JEDEN O PORANKU

I BEZ KAWY

A co
Jeśli Bóg
Nie wtrąca się już w miłość
I od flirtów boli go głowa
Nikomu nie wierzy już na słowa...
I nie przemienia żadnych w ciało
Bo ma dosyć już ciał

A przecież
My oddychamy słowami
Bo bez nich
Jakoś nas mało
Nam tylko pisanie pozostało
I chwała...

Pożądania mamy dość
Bo nie chcemy żeby ktoś
Nam sapał do ucha
Że nas
Zje żywcem
I bez popijania
Że obliże tylko usta
I wiecej chce
I tak nas je i je

Bo czemu by nie
Wieczór w wieczór
Do dziesiatej zero dwie...

Nad ranem tworzenia już nie ma
A zamiast natchnienia
Przychodzi rachunek
Za pożyczanie słów

Jutro
Na oczach nam się zmienia
W wymogi nie do spełnienia
I w dowidzenia
Kolejkcjonowane na kartkach
Z cytatami z mądrych głów

A potem się zaczyna
Kończy się bukiet wina
I kończy się na śnie

I imitowanie

Nocami własnych żon
Pokrywanie
I zgon miłości
Pomiędzy kocami
I dnie jakby nigdy nas nie

Modlitwa jako błaganie
O wstrzymanie kary
I składanie rąk

I już
Nie pamietam na której ścianie
Kreska oznacza klękanie
A na której dotyk

Z kalendarzy potwarzy wyrywane
Kartki
Wyścielają łoża
Zamiast róż
I nie ma miejsca na nic
Spanie
Wstawanie
Trwanie
I już...?

G SONG

OF HIS PLACES YOU DWELL SOMETIMES

I've fallen
Into a sleep
As if my eyelids were to heavy
To deal with reality
They look for something more profound
Searching deep in the Land of Forgotten Things
Lost shapes
And faith that keeps on linger under the nails

And I would swear
That I taste grapes
And I would swear
That I could smell the air that dwells his lungs
Again

I swear that I've been there before
Squashed
Lost
And found somehow
Somewhere

I cried the tears that soaked his eyes
And drunk saliva straight from his mouth
And I would swear
That you've been there
As well...

He'd never left women aside
He let them bask in the purple light
That shone their eyes through
Before they died

They often call him by the name
He lets them speak of what they feel
They cry
And die
And kneel
And kneel

They call him God
He doesn't care
If only you were there
And see...

He'd chosen me
Then sent away
I wore the gown green like the stream
Of thoughts he spells

Projected on the inside
Of his artful scull
Wounded and scarred
He died few times...

And yet he smells music and tales
And yet he senses
Tensed strings of air

And I would swear
I was there once
Poured purple rain
Into my palms
And I would swear
Angels were there
Cheating on God
Paying the worship to us
As we danced to the windows of their eyes

I died few times into his arms
Night after night would come
And moths would fly
And I would die
Dusk after dusk
At last I sunk

He'd chosen me
Then sent away
I came undone
Green gown
Dropped down
Sea of blue blood
He swam
He drank
I died like time...

I called him God
He didn't care
If only you were there
And see...