Myślenie szkodzi na bezmyślność.
Bezmyślność to podstawa błogostanu.
Błogostan to przechowalnia mięsa.
Hole
busy with my day of reckoning
I lost my hand with which I was supposed to wave goodbye to life
dropped it in the corridor more towards the end on the left side of throne of God
next to thoughts too heavy for me to carry on my own into the apartment where there is no room for peace
walls are still-life
barely breath with images of virginity and other curses
it is such a shame not to wield a mortal hand
taken out of destiny pocket
when you need it for the hole
in your head
Dziura
zgubiłem rękę którą miałem pożegnać życie
została w korytarzu do śmierci
przy myślach zbyt ciężkich, abym je wniósł samemu
do mieszkania, w którym nie zachodzi pokój
jego ściana jest martwa
bezwiednie oddycha jeszcze obrazami dziewictwa i przekleństwa
to taka krzywda
nie władać ręką śmiertelną
świeżo wyjętą z kieszeni przeznaczenia
do czegoś innego
niż dziura tutaj
God
life is not a long distance
in space or time
both cruel lies when you think about it
it is a distance in flame
in how intense your words are
how intense your love will become over all of your lives
as you ascend
one by one
into realm of God
seeking shelter from existence on Earth:
difficult place of difficult deaths
and difficult returns
Rats
not one given way
ends in a path
not one given break of a day
gives you anything different but the night in the end
anyway
it is not you man
it is the divine road that is blind
infested with rats
and hope
leading cause of premature death in humans
Labors and lies
the first night goes to the demon
worked hard to get you that woman
her body
affection
and trust
you step aside and let him have her
through senses and eyes
you provide
the second night goes to hell
she is absent and cold
everything familiar but rushed
demon is gone but you are lost
you wish he took over the labors and lies
made time slide into a halt
the third one is the first night
for two
lone
naked
triumphant for a minute humans
as they come
Projections
w oczach jest życie
i w oczach jest śmierć
w oczach jest pies którym jesteś
i kundel którym będziesz
w oczach jest wszystko czego nie widzisz
w oczach jest wszystko
czego nie powiesz
przybłędo
nie pytaj mnie więcej o drogę
do wnętrza iluzji o sobie
***
There is life in the eyes
and there is death in the eyes
In the eyes
is the dog that you are
and mongrel
that you will become
everything you can’t see is in the eyes
everything you won’t say is in the eyes
stray of this plane
don’t you ever ask me for a path
into your projections of yourself
Food
I live on a Snake Island
flat
wet
full of snakes
with flameless candle right above my head
burrows in the ground
and I walk in the shadow of snake’s dream about me
being favorite game and food
thus life became disease
nothing seems to lead
out of it
alas
I cure my fear of them
standing on a highest rock
while watching snakes curse and hiss
their hate of me to silent Moon
the bloody lure above
Roots
I will never be there again
the place I came from
land of origin to everything that is holding me together
it seems time spins between points of no return
with every step and every breath
I push my luck off the cliff
amused to death
as the precipice grows under my feet
wasteland of the past
that silent abyss behind curtain of today
hanging still
deep space of far and away
from everything life meant to bring
to remain precious for ever
Tailless Creation
Whoever programmed humans and keeps programming humans is not their friend. Tails were abandoned during the act of creation to make the nature of relation between humans and their creators less obvious.