Friday, March 26, 2004

 

Eternal Starting Point

Making the road cross,
a noise of traffic
echoes with my heart

The dust and the weariness
echo simultaneously
The window comes to shine
on which everything is painted

I am reflected seductively,
waiting in the night the racket
we come to the eternal starting point

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Monday, March 15, 2004

 

The Test of the World

The test of the world is my witness
it is plugged and swallows my spark of the throat
the justice which is my mud of the skin
is my cover

Thing of my octagon
of the wild grass
my beverage which has dried,
me who is drunk

Before doing the demand
which is good in us
it goes to us from this
left in 1 hour

It is taken
the explosion
does not come
our toe is isolated and is my feeling in width
from the land between our feet

By the hair of the feeling
heat in the breeze between,
I feeling the shortage develop around us
You go to be that thickness.

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Sunday, March 14, 2004

 

This early poem that I wrote. I wait for joy to him of him.

Leprosy of the steering wheel

Time.
It is possible,
that it is,
and is,
is,
whether or not
it stops beneficially
###

That we
should obtain ###
how densely?
In regard to you!

And we
who are not
the leprosy of the steering wheel
we want ###!

There is a packing.
It does not do that!

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The strength of destruction

To my headquarters,
the other side for my knee,
It has not come
On the other hand being,
when you verify me in your existence,
you wobbled with no motion

Little do I,
who says things,
do things,
it being possible

The sun goes,
the leaf crosses the happy cloud of snow
the wooden center which is with you dissolves,
it rises to the strength of destruction

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Saturday, March 13, 2004

 

The defiant destruction

In the sky of time
Disquiet blinks the electric light
The darkly large cloud
has the rapid stream
before those, the wake under all
whom it cleans and gushes

only the thing is produced to the plain,
raised just in order to draw up work
it is beautiful,
eternal
for the defiant destruction
which can continue with art

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The private opinion

Serious power it makes
The thing detergent
which decreases simply
and under the yellow sky

It makes me as before
in regard to each step
when sleeping exactly

My stairway depends
jointly
to promote the order which creaks,
my difficulty does not finish
the private opinion of "I am" attacks me.

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The tumults of reliance

Through the tumults of reliance,
The flow of envy,
For my quantitative taste
is bitter

In the place
Where horseback riding of the car
is made possible,
We are diving in the absent valley
In the acid of the water,

When pure,
I cancel the announcement
Of the screaming failure
related to the thing which is pulled

The tears
Scorching me
With the dance and growth of pain

I am hurt you feel with the mouth
It exercises the deterioration of heart
To the movement of environment
it congests

You are achieved less than that
close I am with the head of the brick
which is installed sufficiently.

Wait for that impulse
of the eye
Cancel me
where everything doubts me

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Depletion has the wreckage

By friction, is learned
The fatigue which becomes firm
Scanty, you lighten the clothing of my life
Which the new purchase cannot do

My hair, which I do not know,
Surfaces the earth of traveling
The depletion has the wreckage
The sweat is thick

Under the grime and the sweat
Is the ponder of my temple
I feverishly utter my central sound
Under pounding

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I renewed many poem after the time of the holiday. To have my poetry everything of one place, it is important for me. Your joy is desired. I wait for joy to him of him.

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Meaning of the reflex

Their eyes glint with that glee
that is meaning of the reflex
We return the flame,
which feels friends on the sofa,
which calms the patronage,
From the merciful discussion
that she has.
While I expect the respect,
What importance this one could have?
We seek the eternal roam of adjustment
Graspings for the alive air, and me,
for the simple apprehension of rescue

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The paragraph of feeling

The words of creation
with my stylographs
sparkle my synapses,
and line up my lives here

Here I only supplied the song
because underflowing the river,
find our lives,
the paragraph of feeling,
in the mouth of the sea

They make silt,
under my toes of the foot
and smoothes the creation of the word.

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