Where is my heart? exclaimed Tikitak.

Where is my heart? exclaimed Tikitak. / For You / Read 8.4.21 at the Social House in Old DARKov Spa.

Where is my heart? exclaimed Tikitak.

Lubomir Tomik

- Where's my heart? - cried Tikitak,
some hands pushed him onto the catwalk,
Psyche sat in the front row,
primarily
and other models shook and tumbled,
hungry peeking,
but he stood
with his head down.

- Where's my heart? - cried Tikitak,
she turned the key in the ignition,
the engine rumbled,
someone always turning the key in the ignition,
Tikitak clung to the rear bumper with his fingernail,
the car was picking up speed,
he held on
it was about everything
until the gears spilled from his chest along the way, like unused returned coins,
the car disappeared into the distance.

-… -heart? -said the dying Tikitak,
outstretched hand dropped to the ground,
extinguished
and his heart
lay in the back seat of the car,
with which you set out to meet the dawn,
overflowing cup of life.

Tick Tock.
 Gears.
Tick Tock.
 Didn't fit in.
Tick… 
Mr. Tikitak.

Smrt knih in DARKov, čtení II.

Smrt knih.
Written yesterday, read and recorded today, interesting situations when reading in front of the Social House ..., one of several versions, maybe you will like at least one of them. But you know.            / For You / Read 8.4.21 at the Social House in Old DARKov Spa.

Death of books.

Lubomír Tomik

In the case of library fires,
plagues,
conquistadors in unlubricated armor,

enchantingly
You smell a lotus
You are

you won't burn my olfactory cells
you will not cure my sorrow
you shall not put oil in the seams of my armor

You enchanting with a lotus,
You are.

I learned to understand.

The death of books is one thing
we know very well
that the only virus
                          are WORDS

they warm
heals
they tear meat from bones.

In the case of library fires,
plagues,,
conquistadors in unlubricated armor,

You smell enchantingly with a lotus, 


YOU ARE.

Gallows splinters in DARKov , reading.

Třísky ze šibenice. / Pro Tebe / Čteno 8.4.21 u Společenského domu ve Starých lázních Darkov.

Written yesterday, read today, interesting situations when reading in front of the Social House …, one of several versions, maybe you will like at least one of them. But You know.

Gallows splinters.

Lubomír Tomik

Splinters from the royal gallows in Montfaucon
took a trip beyond the horizon,
the wind lifted them up and carried them over Paris,
it was not yet full of refugees
and we could walk along the Seine together,
uninjured.

Splinters from the royal gallows in Montfaucon
 looked down on the world below,
the wind played with  and carried them in a cruel endless gust
over your house,

where  fell into silence,
like bullets in the chest,
bullets in the chest of the archdukes,
slides,
missing from terrible beauty scopes. 

Gallows splinters/ For You / Read 8.4.21 at the Social House in Staré Darkov Spa.

Gibbet of Montfaucon – Wikipedia

Napsáno včera, čteno dnes, zajímavé situace při čtení před Společenským domem…. , jedna z několika verzí, snad se Ti aspoň jedna z nich bude líbit.Však víš.

Kde mám své srdce ? Where is my heart ?

Wooden man i DARKov.

Kde mám své srdce ?  zvolal Tikitak.

Lubomir Tomik

-Kde mám své srdce ?- zvolal Tikitak,
nějaké ruce ho postrčily na přehlídkové molo,
Psyché seděla v první řadě, 
v první řadě
a ostatní modely se natřásaly a čepýřily  ,
hladové pokukování,
on však stál 
se svěšenou hlavou.

-Kde mám své srdce ?- zvolal Tikitak,
otočila klíčem v zapalování,
motor se rozeřval,
někdo neustále otáčel klíčem v zapalování,
Tikitak se držel zadního nárazníku zuby nehty,
auto nabíralo rychlost,
držel se,
šlo o všechno,
dokud se ozubená kola z jeho hrudi nerozsypala po cestě, jako nepoužité vrácené mince,
vůz zmizel v dálce.

-…-srdce ?- řekl umírající Tikitak,
napřažená ruka klesla k zemi,
vyhasl
a jeho srdce 
leželo na zadním sedadle vozu,
jímž jsi mířila vstříci svítání,
přetékajícímu poháru života.

Tik, tak.
Ozubená kola.
Tik , tak.
Nezapadla , do sebe.
Tik…
Where is my heart? exclaimed Tikitak.

Lubomir Tomik

- Where's my heart? - cried Tikitak,
some hands pushed him onto the catwalk,
Psyche sat in the front row,
primarily
and other models shook and tumbled,
hungry peeking,
but he stood
with his head down.

- Where's my heart? - cried Tikitak,
she turned the key in the ignition,
the engine rumbled,
someone always turning the key in the ignition,
Tikitak clung to the rear bumper with his fingernail,
the car was picking up speed,
he held on
it was about everything
until the gears spilled from his chest along the way, like unused returned coins,
the car disappeared into the distance.

-… -heart? -said the dying Tikitak,
outstretched hand dropped to the ground,
extinguished
and his heart
lay in the back seat of the car,
with which you set out to meet the dawn,
overflowing cup of life.

Tick Tock.
 Gears.
Tick Tock.
 Didn't fit in.
Tick…