liyo, 13 grudnia 2011
excuse me mr.,
before you leave
let me tell you something
that i think, you must know
that again, you blew it
you fire starter
you suicide bomber
ripping yourself apart
eating your tongue
and sipping your newspaper brew
spitting out,
i thought you have nothing
but only pure intentions
nothing but disarrayed constellations
of damp towels, of yellow arm band
buffed and swelling muscles
click!
in a snap
a shot
you stepped back
an empty space
between crooked shadows
a lifeline
a cocktail of pathos
sleeping,
drowning,
fleeting,
so after all these waiting
now tell me,
are you coming back?
liyo, 12 grudnia 2011
total darkness
just whispers
(00: 01)
lights on
a naked body
lying on its full anatomy
(00: 20)
lungs, expanding
an arduous breathing
on full white
pale and gloomy
no, let it have a tinge of glow
aurora borealis, in norther hemisphere
sadly, breathlessly beautiful
ghastly, monstrous
a sense of emptiness
yet, not hollow, vacuous
a floating mass
within the vast universe
(3: 33)
lifting the shoulders now
being pulled by an external force
like whale, being harpooned
dragged away from the ocean
thug!
a foot being stamped
thug! thug! thug!
a withering crouch
hand swaying, like a broken branch
a pendulum
swinging back and forth
an infinite motion
then slowly
fingers crawl into its mouth
whispering
whispering
the secret of decay
liyo, 12 grudnia 2011
a quick glance
terracotta body
moving
swirling into a fountain
depart
disengage from knowing
white blood cells
quietly tiptoeing into lost thoughts
meandering amongst lost souls
empty bottles of beers
tinkling beside
the glass of water from a teetotaler
empty your mouth
said she:
try to have a taste of smoked salmon
empty your mouth said he:
drink the cup of my blood
layers of layers of dust
mind disembodied
a midnight dance
liyo, 12 grudnia 2011
why is it
it's better not to take pictures?
do you choose
to remember them instead?
in your mind
carved within the caverns
of your brain,
you keep it.
and you'll always find it
in your head
clinging
like stalactites
it would penetrate
much deeper
probably
more often
than not
rather than a snap
a shot
nothing
but a
blot
liyo, 9 grudnia 2011
it was like sipping your daily cup of tea by the shore
one early morning
when everything seems to be so pure
toes underneath the sands
sleeping with empty shells
of which
dreams are forgotten
yet its hollowness brings
a myriad of tales
tales of longing
of whispers of secret adoration
lingering
swimming
never fading
an empty cup,
a revelation
of momentum of snippets
yellowing pages of bygone days
clawing into
the dark corners of reverie.
liyo, 9 grudnia 2011
sedentary leaks, sedentary squeaks
languid and disheveled
what have happened to you my little dear?
What are the things that come up to your head?
poison, broken promises, threesome, hands that smelt of burnt cigarette
pistols, candy wrappers, left over table wine, voltage, an unpaid bill
paper bag, neurons, winged cloud, murmurs, licking bodies, lip gloss
blood stained tub, dancing shemales, antibiotics, and Scottish widows
imaginary phone calls, changing numbers, asking details, age, sex, and location.
a room for two, fresh juice and needles,
eyebugs and bullets.
lackluster eyes,
what are they piercing at?
immobile,
yet you’ve seen yourself passing by
different times and different dimensions.
for you, the world is just a paper cup
raise it and it will be filled.
but how many times will it remain empty?
still waiting and fading away
liyo, 9 grudnia 2011
when you're smack dab in the middle of it,
you don't have a clue.
you may feel you've been referring to its roots:
entangled,
but have the urge to hold fast,
to appear, closely
to move vertically
never dare to be pulled out
submerged in awareness of existence and confusion
wrapped mystery inside an enigma
The highest emotional state you can feel
as a human being
or at least, a living organism
to be completely intrigued;
lose all your wits and be half crazy
thinking of love and hate as parallels.
frustration and infatuation as parallels.
the core beauty in its force; served as a
delicacy and destruction.
embracing contradiction as noble
falling into a pit
hesitating,
yet anticipating
-the-follow-the-dots puzzle,
where a seemingly random,
accidental spread of points
turns out to have a definite pattern.
psychic bonds
a connection
a sort of mania
stressed in anxiety exerted in emotional conflict
a level of heightened spirituality,
or human understanding
to push it forward
It's painful,
painfully sweet,
ˈ sækə rɪ n
riddled for a collective outlet
a universal Consciousness
sliding into a
single trunk
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