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Channel: Nihilistic Poetry » reality
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matters of why

I once had a rock whose dream bordered on nuclei mountain under incisive noise; the mechanism of logic all tender and imprecise - the causal tornado of action reward and dissatisfaction – the rock...

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irresolute heroes

The heroes, or the emission. happiness and earthquake the sound soars blindly behind curtains of my perception there are pieces that I have forgotten about myself like the blackened scar of shell...

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sketches of quintessential

if some fundamental level of reality the blurry steps of the passage of time limbs moving, solitary breath dying streams of flesh darkness with short explosions of light everything is metamorphosis...

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the pretension of analgesia

I observe myself moving rather consistently and sensibly riding my bike in accordance to god-knows-what prospect going up steps dandily sipping tea effortlessly simultaneously throbbing anguish a howl...

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of the living

Of the living clod of reality, the bladed streams of circumstance, in the incinerated rush of experience; miracle of memories, the enigmatic ordeal of existing - postponed, quietly repressed in the...

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the process

The axis of third world haircuts the bland greed of vodka drinkers the pale skin of the lonely heart the tomato sun of the market the prison noise of the taxi-bus the Cyrillic insistence of the...

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of becoming

The possession of my self in the refraction lonely something sees as I the trembling skin of bright tomato and someone desires to lay bare on its surface light like reflection of a lamp the map of...

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arch

It was not yet summer when the light dissolved absolutely over my tongue I had to return to the past as if digging a ruthless hole in my skin my veins my bones my sky will the black worm eat consume...

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simulacra

I have never tasted the world. With skin, I cannot live as a man in a city simulation. Before it rains the landscape sober despite action. I did not walk across the surface of awareness . Pure angst...

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language as crust

really believing two of the greatest musical quivers boundlessly I burst quite sick into history with how many heads always holding symphony, art otherwise despair consider one literary thing, make it...

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