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Стихи

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Birdie

Whore-mother Earth,
Shelter your children.


Here they lie
Piled up and forgiven,
Buried in oblivion,
Flesh off the bones.

Wet mother Earth
Smiles at the people...
Still-bearing

In the slit wings land,
Dead-bearing
By the fathomless graves.

Reduce them to dust,
Take as much as you can.
This crawler-breeding,
Their skins in urban scabs,
Gets..... Gets.... stung everywhere...

Love us -
They'll pity their souls,
Kill us -
Clothe in sores.

It's time for the birds running
To fall into dead silence,
Strangle freedom in your nets,
In the snakes' nest,
Wondering how to reach the sky,
How to rise from ground,
How to live away from death,
In futile endlessness.

Not to entangle
In an alien stark dream,
A linear cobweb
Attached to a doctrine.

In a life's thin squeak,
At the stake of perception,
A rope on my neck,
Singed feather around,
I dream about a day on earth,
But now I'm a bird on my own.


Entropy
-----------------------------
Avidly watched
By the city
Of regular thoughts
with accusation, pity
And blot,
Of vague dark visions
Of a hazy mind,
Of blackouts and fright,

I picture the world
As a disguise,
A world which is merely
The reason of crisis,
The page wrinkled up
By a bird.

The music out of town,
Rolls of thunder to some,
To me a lyre's sound,
Gently whispering
Luring me away
From the open volume
Of rules and commands,
Makes the eyes bolt
The first word
And fall silent
Choking on thoughts
Non-stop.

Beyond the mist,
Beyond the dark wall
Shimmers the stronghold
Of monastic ideas,
For themselves nonexistent,
Where youth is wine,
Where eld is vinegar.
The city displays its bite,
Loving itself, the pitiful.

The vision and the visions
Have long turned sour.
The city keeps picking
The unearthed
Conception larvae
That it's the only
Terminator
Of the hated
From without,
From the pilfered debris,
In its sleep so profound.


Reflex
----------------------------
A flow of sand empties
The hoary rivers
With no bridges,
Forging fears,
Dragging
Billions of rats and dogs.


Death after death.
Still cannot bite the hand,
Just kiss it and lick it,
Exhausted with the bodies' heat.

Through the female throat
Across the cuts on the skin
Down to the hands
Hail the bitter tears
Shed over the crags
Of distorted bones and sinews.

In fear with melted eyes
Insanely dashing aside
From his own shadow
Someone of them sang.

Twitching and writhing
Strangled in own relics,
They suck strange breast and bones
Out of pity.

Death after death.
They do not quench the thirst
But search for dry drops
In a rain!

Their flesh itches and aches
Hoarsely barking
Through sand and rot,
The barely breathing prayer
Howls feebly in unispasm
For the peace of the soul.

They are the heralds
Of the new age
And the old one,
Chewed by the rustling
Of their fetid plague
Over the flabby breast
Of mother Earth.

Категория: Стихи | Добавил: decay (05.02.2008)
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