Submissions by utenaka
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
those who live, live off the dead. Antonin Artaud
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
3rd Sep 2014 1:03pm
3rd Sep 2014 1:03pm
obscurity is our reward
this poem again not 'designed' to be a love poem.
GoddOddlove, shanti, shanti, shanti!
daily mediatation on peaces of peace
No, it isnt
and even not because 'thankless jobs',
for volunteer labours is priceless thing
it is another blindness
alike
to share lyric to bunch of clevermonkeyman
which seemingly only 'artesians', only 'artists' know how to 'attend',
but not a blueser, twisted inbetween of her gray day and bi-polar conscience of wrecked capitalist mind,
which e'ery one of us polluted immensely..
isnt it a bad levity not to differ whom to...
GoddOddlove, shanti, shanti, shanti!
daily mediatation on peaces of peace
No, it isnt
and even not because 'thankless jobs',
for volunteer labours is priceless thing
it is another blindness
alike
to share lyric to bunch of clevermonkeyman
which seemingly only 'artesians', only 'artists' know how to 'attend',
but not a blueser, twisted inbetween of her gray day and bi-polar conscience of wrecked capitalist mind,
which e'ery one of us polluted immensely..
isnt it a bad levity not to differ whom to...
38 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
3rd Sep 2014 6:01am
3rd Sep 2014 6:01am
errata de dada dois
buddha-ist without nerve, of
buddha-ist without belief, with nihislist of psychotic
belief,
dada nihislist nerve, nerve
buddha-ist belief, with
nerve of psychotic weakling
without belief, dada nerve, nerve
buddha-ist without belief, nerve of psychotic weakling
buddha-ist without belief, with nihislist of psychotic
belief,
dada nihislist nerve, nerve
buddha-ist belief, with
nerve of psychotic weakling
without belief, dada nerve, nerve
buddha-ist without belief, nerve of psychotic weakling
29 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
31st Aug 2014 4:44am
31st Aug 2014 4:44am
Attic of Janus
o vida loca!
how vague i am
to 'conform'
you
who am i to be?
voyeur or participant,
stiff cynic or rigid soldier,
tired nihilist or blissfull buddha-ist,
nonsectarian shaman or impartial commissar
desperate waster or boldly fighting resurrectionist
blind blueser or fairly free from illusions writing hand?
those are quandaries of imaginare twillight.
when darkness is as if the shadow of the light,
and the light - like a reflection of the darkness...
...
how vague i am
to 'conform'
you
who am i to be?
voyeur or participant,
stiff cynic or rigid soldier,
tired nihilist or blissfull buddha-ist,
nonsectarian shaman or impartial commissar
desperate waster or boldly fighting resurrectionist
blind blueser or fairly free from illusions writing hand?
those are quandaries of imaginare twillight.
when darkness is as if the shadow of the light,
and the light - like a reflection of the darkness...
...
48 reads
3 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
31st Aug 2014 4:00am
31st Aug 2014 4:00am
in most gentle memory of Marina Tsvetaeva*
carry love on the frail ice surface- up in skies
sang saucy songs for those incomplete lovies wallowing on fatigue of your bones
bleed plain dedications to imaginative lover who would be able to love you like you used to love-to the limits..
even if urge to love to the limits is urge to death, as wisely coined one of the most odious man of all times and folks
you little dancer on the tightrope, lunatic of two dark moon, yer bits were not the fruits of your imagination, but glowing pulse self., pulse of yer...
sang saucy songs for those incomplete lovies wallowing on fatigue of your bones
bleed plain dedications to imaginative lover who would be able to love you like you used to love-to the limits..
even if urge to love to the limits is urge to death, as wisely coined one of the most odious man of all times and folks
you little dancer on the tightrope, lunatic of two dark moon, yer bits were not the fruits of your imagination, but glowing pulse self., pulse of yer...
48 reads
4 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
24th Aug 2014 6:03am
24th Aug 2014 6:03am
stolen moments
in the autumn park, mids of the town
i went to watch trees..
there was one, bent and vandalized,with the splits of beerbottles stringed on twigs, the tree lay over ground but still lived..
so i went though alley to to revisit this tree to see wether it not cared by some gardener,
who usually work in such landscapes as park...
moisty air of grayish day wasnt obvisiously inviting for many visitors
why park looked almost like abandoned district..
or may be i felt like that after i sow them?
they, were three persons, most perhaps...
i went to watch trees..
there was one, bent and vandalized,with the splits of beerbottles stringed on twigs, the tree lay over ground but still lived..
so i went though alley to to revisit this tree to see wether it not cared by some gardener,
who usually work in such landscapes as park...
moisty air of grayish day wasnt obvisiously inviting for many visitors
why park looked almost like abandoned district..
or may be i felt like that after i sow them?
they, were three persons, most perhaps...
38 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
21st Aug 2014 4:01am
21st Aug 2014 4:01am
shaky worts
shaky worts cross the bridges of next and next sophism
shaky worts stumble on flat paves
shaky words descend in gloomy canals of the town where they drift restless
shaky worts stitch laces, torned in splits by razorblade of distruction-nerve
shaky worts deride themself..
shaky words consist throurougly of needs but sometimes of wants
shaky worts want reflect frogs in pond, dragonfly larva with a permanent presence of mossy skull of that pariah, the plainly fool..
jes, shaky worts lean on crutches they dont lift their wordts knees to move...
shaky worts stumble on flat paves
shaky words descend in gloomy canals of the town where they drift restless
shaky worts stitch laces, torned in splits by razorblade of distruction-nerve
shaky worts deride themself..
shaky words consist throurougly of needs but sometimes of wants
shaky worts want reflect frogs in pond, dragonfly larva with a permanent presence of mossy skull of that pariah, the plainly fool..
jes, shaky worts lean on crutches they dont lift their wordts knees to move...
36 reads
UPBEAT POEM
Published
19th Aug 2014 11:31pm
19th Aug 2014 11:31pm
dada is still alive!?
somebody loves me -i'm wonderful...
song, by Ella Fitzgerald
where winds carried you
where you angled an Eel
where the nymphs loved you
where you threw anchors
how many roads strided you
How many skies you flied by
Little as grain of sand
i dreamt to discover you
long index of time
now you and me sit on shore
you making simple lunch
take out your flute
and will play untill dawn rise
in azur haze of morning
we fall...
song, by Ella Fitzgerald
where winds carried you
where you angled an Eel
where the nymphs loved you
where you threw anchors
how many roads strided you
How many skies you flied by
Little as grain of sand
i dreamt to discover you
long index of time
now you and me sit on shore
you making simple lunch
take out your flute
and will play untill dawn rise
in azur haze of morning
we fall...
48 reads
8 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
19th Aug 2014 11:14pm
19th Aug 2014 11:14pm
letter, which isnt echo from c**t but one fairly little outbreack of 'emotional illiteracy'
you, 'missus' are a big fake. i wrote you in 2009 even not because of abysses of propaganda and pornography on both sides of my narrow road, but because i had fragile hope you would unite me with my beloved...
but you even didnt learn to ask uninvited sojouner: "how can i help you?"
where then your unknown and unwanted dada-man, let me kiss his nose, with Nada and othere whores..if you disliked i wanted lick your teeth after reading your newest story..if of such 'illiteracy of emotions' you feel dizzy to vomiting!
i say you where is him, you dont have...
but you even didnt learn to ask uninvited sojouner: "how can i help you?"
where then your unknown and unwanted dada-man, let me kiss his nose, with Nada and othere whores..if you disliked i wanted lick your teeth after reading your newest story..if of such 'illiteracy of emotions' you feel dizzy to vomiting!
i say you where is him, you dont have...
39 reads
2 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
11th Aug 2014 8:34am
11th Aug 2014 8:34am
skizo-impromptu #49b
skizo-impromptu #49b
herald, fade
fireman, freeze
attendant, die
suricate, fly
*****
шизо импромту #49b
глашатай, отвядай
пожарник, замерзай
санитар,умри ...
herald, fade
fireman, freeze
attendant, die
suricate, fly
*****
шизо импромту #49b
глашатай, отвядай
пожарник, замерзай
санитар,умри ...
45 reads
1 Comment
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
11th Aug 2014 8:09am
11th Aug 2014 8:09am
untitled
I must live in my lantern
Trimming subliminal flicker
Virginal to the bellows
Of Experience
mina loy
night, dissolving in labyrinth of scattering wandering
catacombs of unborn psalms reverberating
valiant mind doesnt know any mercy
three words flux in zooming whirl
...
Trimming subliminal flicker
Virginal to the bellows
Of Experience
mina loy
night, dissolving in labyrinth of scattering wandering
catacombs of unborn psalms reverberating
valiant mind doesnt know any mercy
three words flux in zooming whirl
...
41 reads
3 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
5th Aug 2014 7:00pm
5th Aug 2014 7:00pm
this is zero
ever confused farwells
chains of l'esprit d'escaliers
innuendos, leading in distortion
saturation of own experience
overlapping with lack of cultural knowledge
with lack of political knowledge
with lack of historian knowledge
all the dullness of competitive geist of so much coveted vis-a-vis
makes holes in my head
filling with chimera of capitalist reality, so omnipresent
between punks, artists or renegades.
it's odd, twisted and sick
for disdaining dualism of west has managed to venom
everybody of us.. ...
chains of l'esprit d'escaliers
innuendos, leading in distortion
saturation of own experience
overlapping with lack of cultural knowledge
with lack of political knowledge
with lack of historian knowledge
all the dullness of competitive geist of so much coveted vis-a-vis
makes holes in my head
filling with chimera of capitalist reality, so omnipresent
between punks, artists or renegades.
it's odd, twisted and sick
for disdaining dualism of west has managed to venom
everybody of us.. ...
53 reads
UPBEAT POEM
Published
30th Jul 2014 7:30pm
30th Jul 2014 7:30pm
Once you was my drug.
You was the drug i used to abuse myself
You caused the rocks in my pipe to glowed hot with passion
You was the purple haze of heavenly scent I wished enshroud myself with and inhale
You was the crack i wished to hit
You was the smack i wished to feel coursing through my body
My heartbeat quickened faster than amphetamine
I felt giddy, like a drunk around you
You was my ecstasy to be swallowed at the love in
On the day you gave me verdict
of the end of our calls and letters-exchange
I was suffocating of your imperishable injustice
I wanted...
You caused the rocks in my pipe to glowed hot with passion
You was the purple haze of heavenly scent I wished enshroud myself with and inhale
You was the crack i wished to hit
You was the smack i wished to feel coursing through my body
My heartbeat quickened faster than amphetamine
I felt giddy, like a drunk around you
You was my ecstasy to be swallowed at the love in
On the day you gave me verdict
of the end of our calls and letters-exchange
I was suffocating of your imperishable injustice
I wanted...
84 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by utenaka