agonia armenian v3 |
Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission | Contact | Participate | ||||
Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special | ||||||
|
||||||
agonia Recommended Reading
■ Õ“Õ¸Ö€Õ± Õ°Õ¡ÕµÕ¥Ö€Õ§Õ¶Õ«
Romanian Spell-Checker Contact |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-11-25 | [This text should be read in english] | Submited by Ionescu Bogdan
Moment of inner freedom
when the mind is opened and the infinite universe revealed & the soul is left to wander dazed & confus'd searching here & there for teachers & friends. Moment of Freedom as the prisoner blinks in the sun like a mole from his hole a child's 1st trip away from home That moment of Freedom LAmerica Cold treatment of our empress LAmerica The Transient Universe LAmerica Instant communion and communication lamerica emeralds in glass lamerica searchlights at twi-light lamerica stoned streets in the pale dawn lamerica robed in exile lamerica swift beat of a proud heart lamerica eyes like twenty lamerica swift dream lamerica frozen heart lamerica soldiers doom lamerica clouds & struggles lamerica Nighthawk doomed from the start lamerica "That's how I met her, lamerica lonely and frozen lamerica & sullen, yes lamerica right from the start" Then stop. Go. The wilderness between. Go round the march. he enters stage: Blood boots. Killer storm. Fool's gold. God in a heaven. Where is she? Have you seen her? Has anyone seen this girl? snap shot (projected) She's my sister. Ladies & gentlemen: please attend carefully to these words & events It's your last chance, our last hope. In this womb or tomb, we're free of the swarming streets. The black fever which rages is safely out those doors My friends & I come from Far Arden w/ dances, & new music Everywhere followers accrue to our procession. Tales of Kings, gods, warriors and lovers dangled like jewels for your careless pleasure I'm Me! Can you dig it. My meat is real. My hands--how they move balanced like lithe demons My hair--so twined and writhing The skin of my face--pinch the cheeks My flaming sword tongue spraying verbal fire-flys I'm real. I'm human But I'm not an ordinary man No No No What are you doing here? What do you want? Is it music? We can play music. But you want more. You want something & someone new. Am I right? Of course I am. You want ecstasy Desire & dreams. Things not exactly what they seem. I lead you this way, he pulls that way. I'm not singing to an imaginary girl. I'm talking to you, my self. Let's recreate the world. The palace of conception is burning. Look. See it burn. Bask in the warm hot coals. You're too young to be old You don't need to be told You want to see things as they are. You know exactly what I do Everything I am a guide to the Labyrinth Monarch of the protean towers on this cool stone patio above the iron mist sunk in its own waste breathing its own breath
|
||||||||
Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. | |||||||||
Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Privacy and publication policy