Saturday, March 21, 2015

Awakening -- first published in Ancient Heart, January 2011

The sun trembled of its hot rays
sensitive to the cold, he remained there, doing nothing
he looked at the world in flames
the earth burning
the hell in front of his eyes and the flowers' as impure as the skies
when they ejaculate the psalms of the divine

It is like a flashback:
a brother at his sides
seem to wait patiently
before the scream lay them down.
Marie, you still suffer from these infamies,
Joe shakes you such a long time, so often,
flowers of the fields
the songs put the spell on you
go back to  Consecrated Land,
go back into the blue cave,
the children will show you the way.

In the blue cave
I am lying down on a bed of straw,
I am looking at the vault,
the solidified drawings,
the traces of my depressed ancestors.

The house burns.
The brain explodes.
I don't want to stay here anymore

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