Waiting 

A forlorn man

Lay desecreated

Head against heart

His humble hands

Torn from crucifixes

He bowed heads

Tucked in bodies

Until he forgot

Would he not see

Would never do

But once he had

Once he knew

Once upon a time

 

He looked at white walls

Reddened and sinister

His body raised its head

Suckling won

And mandibles

Became glossolalia

Until Jesus came

And spoke

A hesitant absolution

 

He woke

Bent by the past

moved by its allure

waiting once again

for a mirrored age

Absence 

Love is foresight

It is innocence

It is longsuffering

It is portentous

Live is desire

Lingering still

Fast and pray

Fortuitous

 

Like a man in a garden

Declaring experience

Lately sorrow

Has become murder

Like a two in a garden

A whispered betrayal

A silent disavowal

 

The tree silently sleeps

Its innocence is uncertain

Wither it lies

Whether it goes

Opera

Act one

I once sang to god

To this tormentors will

I cried to all the nights

As if they were the last

Act two

I lay the wreath

And felt the wood

I craved the life

Without my hands

And never didn’t did

 

La donna è mobile
Qual piuma al vento,
Muta d'accento — e di pensiero.

Tonight is never tomorrow

 

How are the haphazard

Finally to end and die

Are they to stem

The tide of artificial love

Drink the death

And sorrow not

Risk is finally

Death and finally not

Tonight is never tomorrow

 

Lost again  

When I think that I have lost already

That my sentiment face

Is one among the many

If I seize a day

An hour will come

When all will seize me

Like past torments

That ring again

The necromance

As solidly I build

The way it is destroy

And like a Christ who dies

I sing in surrendering voice

Oh god forsake me please

For I am unforgiven

And soon as in dreams

Of foraging future

I am born again

Unto furtive ways

And leap unknowingly

Into the vortex

This one

I see it now

It is the future

It is the past

It is the me

Of a thousand year

Once upon a breath   

I sit at your side

My death anon

Instead you browse

And leaven me

Like god and man

Upon a tree

I leave as listless

As I come

And breathe

And breathe

About the day

My life it will

Upon this come

That I will sigh

And sigh again

And breathe

Oh breath

and breathe

Sincere or insincere

Until the word

Had slain me

I was no more

Than a son

Until then

I was a son

Of a bitch

Then I ran into

The arms

That kept me

That ransacked me

That emasculated

My sin from its mooring

Now I am but

An immaculate sufferer

A blackened moor

Beside an imbecile mirror

I am unwilling

To bend before god

Or the evils

Of the second self

 

Being John Malkovich 

Inside this man

Is another

Tested and free

Their name

Since they are one

Their faces not

Are but the mirrored horror

Of the future

 

Hope can be so tangible

Sometimes

Time sum

As tangible as a promise

Of jove

Or not

For to see one

Is to seethe

one

 

 

Mirror 

 

We pose

One inside

One not

And agree

To disagree

Here are no icons

No substitutes

No meanings

Here are but

This odd man

Man odd thus

 

Soon we will leave

One to another world

The other to the same

But for now we agree

And hint at us

With eye to eve

And flesh to glass

 

I exist in you

And not in me

If I live you die

And in your death

Is my life

 

Look away now

For I am not of you

Look away for I am not