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Trance
I saw wild horses running
across deep gorges covered by luscious
grass.
I saw wild horses running
over low trenches of my glorious past,
over the hills and across the valleys
throughout the borings of my revolting
mind.
I sew myself
running with them
shaking my mane
gulping cold air
pounding my hooves
in rigid ground
my mare sweet sweat
when I was done
I'd like to be as strong,
as free
as I have seen
Rested and deemed
whisky on ice
with my closed eyes…
The Beast
I have no idea when
it comes
Usually while others are
sound asleep
And then it suddenly happens
With deafening roar it
jumps
splits my belly
and carefully
very carefully
sorts throughout
bloody fragments covering
the floor.
Then it picks the heart
sighs heavily and lays
down
right next to me
eyes half shot
with my heart between
the paws
it
peacefully watches
my
Agony
Usti Nad Labem
It is a strange sight,
that waitress…
Her face old and repulsive,
Tomato red yet dried up.
Wicked,
Shriveled up
Vile!
And the hair my God!
A pile of hay!
But with a few words and a smile
my sadness
just fades
away.
The Clock
Wine and a cigarette
I watch the old clock -
Round phosphorescent face,
its limbs carving my life
into small chapters
Proud of its precise measurements
ever determined to police my daily
procedures
with its arms wide spread to emphasize
the brutality of every instant passing.
Time is a blind watchmaker drunk on
cheap wine.
Yes, it is the final conspiracy
Fat, round and ugly,
still and always,
relentlessly pressing forward
Long time ago I was determined to
kill it.
Drove a big nail to the wall,
Then performed the execution.
Ever since the hanging
I’ve never had to wind it again.
Some things are better left
alone.
I pull my chair closer to the open window.
Then - sitting down,
like at the banks of the old river,
I watch young lovers walking on water.
Listening to sounds,
Getting a whiff of the street,
Breathing in and out.
These are the times when I sit still
and the clock is the only thing moving. |
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Things
To Pack For A New Journey
The hours of waiting
The hopes never fulfilled
Salty pillow
Your sweet moaning
The beer glass
Take my worries
Your hospital bills
Never back home
Dreams of raising our kids
Dreams of moving on
Endless qualms
Hours of making up
mood swings
Intrusive landlord
Countless boyfriends
So finally I could be free,
lonely worthless drunk again.
My Doctor and I
My doctor and I used to be very close
Every visit I felt appreciated
Over the time we somehow got closer
and more open about
My problems
We would exchange stories and laughs…
He never let me go away empty handed,
either.
It started with little things
like ulcers, hernia or fungus between
my toes.
But as our friendship grew,
he’d throw in some much more precious
gifts
such as hypertension, heart attack,
diabetes
and yes
Liver disease……….
One day he walked in looking
at my chart.
“So, how many did you have yesterday?”
Took me a good minute to realize that
he must have thought
I was an alcoholic!
I told him the truth.
7 shots of slivovitz and 5 beers.
“Alright” he said. “I rest my case.
But you should quit this garbage
before it’s too late.”
And that was the end of our relationship.
That day I had 8 shots of slivovitz,
6 beers
and a bottle of red Zinfandel.
The Light Bearers
I can see them everywhere
They come in singles or very seldom
in groups.
And there is always this thin sliver
of light….
Like an instant momentum of endless
anticipation suspended in time better and greater than any religion or
for that matter anything I know.
Once you get within their range, there
is no escape.
Without a word they’d chew you up
and then spit out what’s left,
You won’t stand a chance.
Your personality along with your well-established
values
Is reduced to feeblish namby-pamby!
They have no mercy, no regards for
reality!
Always speaking of terms, due-dates,
babies and formulas.
Completely ignoring basic facts and
downturns of economics,
They’d smile and glow.
Despite the towering divorce rate
That almost ensures the gloomy years
ahead,
They’d still smile and glow.
They have no right.
No shame.
And yet, like some pagan goddesses
with their hands comfortably resting atop of their big bulging bellies
these pregnant women
Always make me feel so little
So useless,
So insignificant. |
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