Refuse

I live in

The time

Of ends

Numerous

Clothed,

Half -naked

Nude

Men and women

Doping on

Their wasted

Tampon or condom

Beings

Used , misused

Reused

Their time

Decaying

In

Mind numbs

Of machines

And eyes

Of light

In the

Deserts

That stretch

through lonely

Cubicles

Ill-lit

Lecture halls

And

Glass and steel

Prisons

While music

Cough

Blood

Books Gather

Dust

In the endless

Chatter

Circling

Spiralling like

Liquid moths

In silicon voids.

Smile

It so happens

that I can not be loved

My face

Splits open

swarming with worms

reveals to me

the truth:

I am the black bile

Of time

Refuse of history

Stench of memories

Decaying

Slowly

Beneath your feet

I am

Beyond

Your sleep

And

Yet

I

Smile .

UNSPOKEN

Be silent, don’t speak

for the night wind grows weak

as my feet carry me away

From this night into the day.

In the shadows awaits a song

Like a predator waiting too long

and from it I must hide

and let indecision decide

the fate of my silence , my heart

the nature of my cunning , my art

And a cigarette shall I light

In the dead of the night

To smother all fire, to disperse all smoke

To listen once again to the words she never spoke.

For Suki

There is nothing you can do about it any more. The university is always watching .It matters very little what you are doing ( or undoing) the university , invisible and silent, is watching you.Orwell or Foucault doesn't matter. You have learned about them in the university.And now Can you really turn the powerful instruments ( or weapons) of thought that these luminaries have given you towards the university itself ? of course not.....its a grand stage after all where you can stage all your fantasies of love and rebellion.


Dope, drink and fuck ( you can write poetry or even pretend to play the guitar to get laid) all you want, but there is no getting away from its claws. It has somehow convinced you that all sorts of "serious" thinking requires the legitimation of its ill-lit ( or shall we just say un-enlightened) lecture halls and labyrinthine corridors which are saturated with the rancid smell of power. But the truth is that you have been turned into a bunch of sleepwalkers ( in state of suspended animation or what i call hyper sleep) wandering aimlessly in the twilight near the ramparts of a crumbling mansion ( of God? Knowledge ?)


Thanks to a friend of mine.....I know the truth!!!


life begins neither at 22 nor at 28 ..it begins when thought succeeds in imaging a future beyond the hegemony of the university........

Dark Silence

We tried in every way to cheat silence with words and empty gestures and yet between and around us in colossal waves silence came, flooding our streets, drowning our people, gnawing at our books , only our films could talk like parrots oblivious to eschatology. Love was not an excuse powerful enough to make us speak. We surrendered to silence, to its cold steel fragrance, to its wet fingers, to its infinite black wall.....a metastasis of silence ensued, but now I know how it all began, it began simply when one night waking up in our sleep we forgot to remember each other.

Fever

the words

are teeth

jagged sharp

bone white

like death

they grind

the delicate

hands of night

bleeding songs

of owls

and foxes

she sleeps

in the empty

eyes of streets

in concentric walls

of solitude

whispering stories

of absent eyes

tossing turning

creating

waves

out of stone

knives

outgrown

with plants

that dream

of melancholy

mangrove afternoons

of saline

love.