Monday, September 29, 2003

"Respect me"

Heated steel the night-star we stare at
Weather changing attitude every night
Do you still stand the changing of the times?

"I was a king and now you whip my face
I am a twenty six thousand years old
you mess up with my name, my face and history
What can I do?

I light up all your torches,
way back then
and put out mine
what did I get for pay back?

How could I ever explain?
What you cannot explain?
Why should I explain?
Only to be known as a crazy old man?

I am the light of the Earth
I taught you how to walk,
I taught you how to talk,
I taught you how to think
I taught you how to cook and eat
I made you human from monkeys

Now you whip my face
you make me cry,
you steal my identity
you still my writings
you shit in my temples
make movies out of my slaughters
give glory to the murderers

What can I do?"


Intense feelings of revenge and hatred
to eastern and western fake civilizations
No man can stand up and shout "Respect me"
None other deserves it more than him...

Sunday, September 28, 2003

Seize...

Flying fluid objects
Irish drunken street lovers
a mirror on a garbage can
insanity knocks once more on the window

Reaching out to embrace
whatever may come.
Reaching out to disgrace
what you have become.

Finding out the power
to masturbate with the spiral
swinging on the circle of spires
finding out the power

However it may come
embracing must be done
whenever it may come
sense of tranquility, funeral

Seize the day
seize the night
seize life
seize death

I feel it move through my hair
I feel it move across my skin
I feel it move beneath my eyes
Make us go where no one lives

Die and let death defeat
Kill again, once again
savage bestiary monks to rule the world
Fuck your religion, follow me
Fuck your world, you all are mine at will
"Hey Mr. Death, Fuck you"

Saturday, September 27, 2003

A Foreign Guitarplayer

Cold memories from the future
a noir filled with anger and deliverance
pitiful foul god of revenge
I pay for crimes of a past life
or perhaps a future death

"Break the circle
everyone wants to play
everyone's gotta play
everyone needs my sensitive guitar"
the beggar screamed with his drunken voice

Petrified listeners
asking a cigar
throwing dimes just for fun
"Food, a drink, god I need a drink
god opposes those who hate themselves
I know it is fit
I know it fits
My body fits in your grave"

Beggar of the ancient times
Celtic poems written in the dark
cold staring eyes, black haze
dawn will come to find you frozen
lying down under the bench

Same old song
"This song, is for you"
he said to the young boy
A tear escaped my eye prison

Friday, September 19, 2003

Call a doctor...

Everything seems so beautiful
walls painted light blue
sun reflecting on the mirror
rainbow colors from a prism

Smiles and laughter
giggles and games
children playing
parents watching
filled with pride

Harmony
and white clouds
spreading around the horizon
women dancing
men playing and running
music
ecstatic freedom
a smooth breeze
reminds a difference
and everything
seems as a part
of a self denying bliss


But then you wake up
and all you see
is the same
nicotine yellow ceiling
and all you hear
is the distant sound
of the alarm signal
getting louder
until you set
it off...

Where did all the promises go?
Where is the glory we await?
Where is the land they promised us?
Where is the garden?

Am I blind and cannot see?
Am I deaf and cannot hear?
Am I souless and cannot feel?
Am I lifeless and do no live?

Suddently
this feeling of
a long forgotten despair
seems so amusing
it begins with an aching feeling
advances to something more elusive
stops to move, and just looks in your eyes
spits fire on your naked soul and burns every happy thought

and it all
ends
with
a faint
pain
in your
fragile
heart

Somebody...
...Call a doctor...

...A few forgotten faint minutes follow...

Your eyes close
and the mind sinks
into a new nightmare
a dark room
a chair
a faint light
being motionless
staring at the light's source
trying to understand
who are the masters
who are those who choose
whose's life you are living?

We are supposed to be kings and queens...
better the life of a slave
then the life of a nothing
And...
when your troubled mind
grows tired of questioning
you surrender to something
you swore never to return to
and again you hear
laughter and songs
and again you see
happy and smiling faces
grinning with pride and satisfaction
children giggling and playing
flowers and trees that bloom
you just stand there
forgetting where you were
a minute ago
trying to enjoy it
but still
you know not how to smile
you feel not like smiling
you have grown immune
to dreams and nightmares
and you know
that this
is just another
escape dream...

You wake up
in a hospital
surrounded by people that
are paid to care and to smile
that are paid to offer you comfort
"Will I die today nurse?"
but you're voice sounds distant
mixed within a buzzing sound
a sound familiar to the whisper of silence
a whisper that makes sense no more

and you understand

they have lobotomised you
and filled your life with lies
they have deceived you
and you forgot how to
separate the truth from the lie
it all seems the same old lie
it all seems unreal and fake

just paying the price
of a once proud immortality
you stand numb on a surgery bed
trying to understand
why the answer to an attack
is to always holding everything inside
desperately trying to escape
but still afraid to
'cause if you do
they will hit you
as they have done in the past
and you understand again
you are just another
frightened child
that wanted to play a grown up

And as the senses
give in to the ether
and everything tends to be forgotten
as in fainting slowly but still instantly
two small tears escape from their prison
racing between them
which will reach the bottom first
that's what we all are
not men, not women
but god's own
fucking tears...