Insomnia Satanica

11:19 just flashed at my face
right after 11:11 made itself present
only a few whispers ago
a few incomprehensible utterances that plunged me into the darkness
therefore I am waiting
slowly sinking into the badlands of mind
lamb
paranoid lamb deluded by the assault of nightfall
anticipating projections from omens and gods
nervously
awaiting sudden reset of the only world I cherish and know

tomorrow
on Day of The Sun
soon
I will open my eyes to 1:09
like tormented I did yesterday
and before leaving late for my paranoid cosmos
on Day of the Moon
I will look at the infinity watch
to absorb 9:11
bold sign from the dark side

then awaken
I will see through car plates
adds
house numbers
key chains
over and over again
multi-dimensional predicament announced
pursued by apprehension too loud for comfort

last time it was NDE
this precise
phantom language encrypted in memory lapse
taste of asphalt
pain therapy
undeserved chastisement
of which
each
by now
became invariable custom

Master of Numbers
father
tell me
what is it
of this world
that is going to shift me to another?

what are You trying to imply
will happen to this sickening place
on present Earth I willingly took
so far
survived
its patterns and engagements?

 

 

False World

not a trace of Today will remain left
before Tomorrow
even if Yesterday materialized to desirable effect

everything rubs off on the surface
of subliminal “ As Above”
while birds and ribbons evaporate below
people dissolve into thin air as if I wanted to breathe in
their commitment to blind faith
shield
I left behind on a battlefield

the choice between emotional resonance
or pure logic :
trample over corpses to the promised arrangement
to bring about fetal movements of the false world
approve of promiscuous business of prayers
or
as the gates collide
take a break from conscience
ask the falling sky
why the light went red
high and out of time

 

 

***

Do jutra nie pozostanie z dzisiaj nic
nawet gdyby wczoraj nigdy nie było
wszystko wyciera się o powierzchowność
zanika esencja i jej opakowanie
ludzie rozpływają się w powietrzu
którym niepotrzebnie oddycham
jakbym chciał kupić czas
Chyba potraktuję z buta
niepokalane drzwi do nieba
albo do jakiegoś innego wyuzdanego
świetego burdelu szeptów i gestów
lekarstw na przejściowe uspokienie sumienia