Come! let’s build us a tower high

Make it nay of brick or stone

Rise it, rise it high

Rise it of skin and flesh and bone

Make it a stairway to stars

Perfect in its design

Than sacrifice the meaning

And conjure up a lie!

Defy the inert feeling of bliss

Whit words of twisted consciousness

Deny help to those in need

Whit the lie of poverty

Bound the spirit whit mind

Chained to the world of others design

( that will ) Bury you hopes and dreams

Dying is as it seems that gives the meaning to things

Why we fear it so?

Should we be the cursed “tower”

Or a true sight to behold?

(Defying, denying, bounding, chaining, Burying, dying

the foundations of earthly being?)

Why do we fear it so?

And howl from our crumbling forms for shelter

From the unknown.

Seek to justify our existence in equally fleeting matter,

tie our shadows like heavy dark coats

on the minds and bones of but contemporary ghosts .

a parade of dead who do not yet realize or know:

only change is an everlasting principal.

Cascading Visions

My hands remember the touch of matter and the skin liked the sun

My eyes stared loudly at the sight of creation

And feet rushed forward to know its wonders.

Rage love lunacy and tranquillity still etched in my heart

But no longer clings my mind

To its alluring guise.

Am I awake now? What do I do?

Now that mind and heart follow each other, no longer foes.

Shout fills my lungs to the brim

Released out it returned a whisper that faded out in the wind

Into particles it did, blew the world!
Decomposed, like mist for me to taste, the beautiful creation did float
and whit it, my body.

That exact un-moment. That timeless, boundless state
seemingly lengthy enough to be understood, before the power of reason flickered(!) pulling all back together
and whit it, came the awareness of the strains of understanding

Showers of cascading visions poured into my eye

Infinite dimensions seen

Past, present and future alike all possible, all real

Faced whit disintegration closed

For now I just will

Salute its ghost.

from now, just will.


Pointless intensive focus produced a malignant avalanching pattern of thought.

Growing bigger whit every breath I wanted once to become its slave

Taken for a ride like a pebble in a land slide

Devouring grinding scraping the inside of my mind

And they are just thoughts!

Millions of them force-fed and compressed now form a white noise

( a soundtrack to my daily life )

To all these thoughts I have fallen to be a victim and a host

Often have I peered at the approaching chasm of tormented dead black stem of existence painted so

I could say I was not wrong

Painted so

I could say I was not wrong

Revolting senseless disruptive of the harmony of my subtle bodies

Just thoughts!

Millions of them force-fed and compressed once formed a white noise

avalanching pattern of thought

Graced by error

A moment when singularity caught a glimpse of a final void

Awestruck, unable to grasp the concept of all

A concept of evolution: finding the perfect reasons to continue on.

Falling increasingly smaller, diminished by the realization of its size.

Feeling a growing fear, lack of importance, confused by the constant and the processes

By its own lack of vision rendered blind.

Sickly driven to find its meaning tramples all living

For the picture of eternity still lingering, sheds a blinding light.

Dissecting, analyzing: new tools of mind

Soothing, meaningful these powers are

Dimensions of wisdom as pieces amount

New insights destroy compositions of past

Stumbling on its own creation, these unyielding footsteps trample the fine fabric

Breathing frantic, unable to stop the bleeding

Of this monstrous whole mow collapsing.

Humbled alas noticed its falling from grace a burden self inflicted

A circle now completed. Cleansed from error.

Destined to be repeated in eternity

Have I conspired again against I

Have I conspired again against I

so that myself had to be pushed a step back into „who am I ?“

misanthropic slivers of self consciences in a struggle

to claim the golden goose corners in a city hung up on cranial drugs


My worst friend

Amazing, amusing, addictive

What was than, now, is to be and never again; all focused in this second I want to become

clear and sole overlord in this hellish game

The corners invert

And slam into each other

The walls the walls!

I have been here before!

It is what it is but I taught I left it in the once-long-time-ago

Left it un attended (!) and now I’m hunted and stranded in this cubicle of the past.

Must think how was it dissolved and where were the doors

Out from these walls!

dysfunctional subconscious moulds

a sign of a

look smart, look smart

troublesome fool

overburdened by thoughts.

Am I my self lately?

A problem ignored is a problem unsolved

Life’s worth

If someone would try to imagine its end

It would just be the border of its own imagination

Stating nothing about the whole and everything about the present state of its mindset

Sparks, gentle flickers, bundles of electrical pulses and intricate chemical reactions

I am~

Being a being in constant flux bordered by

That imagination had not yet touched.

My effort is worth, but

For every one torn there is infinitely more

In this regression.

Were you the one that questioned?

Were you the one that rose the fist?

Were you the one that wrote as dictated?

As a statement of a higher form

~ a thought embarked as a wave.

All is all!

A thought not worth thinking of, oddly enough

Only one that feels of some worth.

(mouths spew laments when explaining the amount of all)

Perfect sky

As the texsts were made i will read

And words shall eho in the hollow

Non shall move nor hold their breath in awe

Nor shall there be a parade of spectators that came to understand,

Thus i shall begin to read again

Words in ridles meaningfull

Their fragile tension to me yet unknown

May there be a watchfull eye to notice an opening of a crack in the dome

Of a perfect sky

Howl of a persistant wind as i read again

The echos multiply the texsts i do not have to see

The tongue pronounces for the first time unafraid:

I am

Yells herein

Shattering the dome – my dust in the wind

And a sharp sight of a minds-eye

now scrapes the dome of a new perfect sky

and the tongue mutters the words

of a new yet somehow allready known paradime

As the texsts were made i will read

And words shall eho in the hollow

Non shall move nor hold their breath in awe

Nor shall there be a parade of spectators that came to understand,

Thus i shall begin to read again



Shimmering lights

The void grips and drags down

So soft, soft and cold is your bed

join the depths and rest

Surrender your incandescent gaze

As the waves splash over in their roaring voice

Distant sun’s lights refract on their facets

Breed deep in their light and calm

Breed deep and gaze further on

Broken the sun’s rays

Turn into jewels, gems and beads

Their beauty overwhelming as they slowly disappear in the deep

Smile and accept its immeasurable wealth

Smile and accept this immeasurable death

The void grips and drags down

Your tired limbs and by sun’s kisses darkened skin

Many times has the sea caressed you whit her drops

And always would she feed your hungry gut

It seams so appropriate to give something back

The flame in your heart

Sinking upwards

Patterns substitute reality

Blank folders of every day ongoing tragedy

Not thinking, not acting, rotting back to primal in which ego bound emotions struggle.

To lash out to be unseen

To not be to not to be

(still) Choosing this darkness to envelop me in obliviating shroud of darkness

(I am )Sinking.

Deafening silence


Particles blown away, neurons misfire, knees weak, eyes twitch, unnaturally I fuse and stretch

Beyond boundaries and lines

Beyond thoughts and time

Before I thought I was

Beyond thoughts of loss

From darkness abysmal into the light I fall opened expanding becoming real

(remembering that we all are)

Empty unbound all-dimensional being(s)

10 000 times smaller and bigger than

All that was needed

Was to fall

Fall again

Fall again

Fall deeper and forget that down leads up and words are destructive and like to interrupt

That thoughts are small and slow

That the auto pilot can never know beyond its horizons

Stretching not further than its face

Not reaching grace

Not reaching


And so I leave it

I leave it to rot.