What are you not telling me?

What are You not telling me?

Lubomír Tomik

What I don't know are boxing gloves,
glued pieces of glass,

what You're not telling me
are execution squads of ideas,

I wake up to the strict commands of executioners from the panopticon of days,
barking machine gun,
whistling bullets,
falling into a pit,
greasy clay pits,
after rain full of water,

-Splash! -
and it's not Daryl Hannah

-Another splash "and it's not aging Tom Hanks,

Daryl has nothing to do with it,
what I don't know are the feet in the concrete at the docks,
  heavy,
motionless,

my Everything.


Co mi neříkáš.

Lubomír Tomik

To co nevím, jsou boxerské rukavice ,
polepené kusy skla,

to co mi neříkáš
jsou popravčí čety myšlenek,
budím se do přísných povelů katů z panoptika dnů,
štěkání kulometu
hvízdání kulek,
pád do jámy,
mazlavé hlíny jámy,
po dešti plné vody,

-Šplouch !-
a není to Daryl Hannah

-Další šplouch „ a není to stárnoucí Tom Hanks,
Daryl s tím nemá nic společného,

to co nevím jsou nohy v betonu u přístavních hrází,
 těžké,
bez hnutí,

mé Všechno.

Soft words about the end.

Read and recorded for You once in Studio Shaark , behind glass is sound engineer Pavel Hlavica…echoes on end of the poem is his work, thanks.
Words.

Soft words about the end.

Lubomír Tomik

You're hovering over an ice field,
silent scars cut into the body of the snow

  I haven't known you in a long time,
blood drew soft words in the snow
about the end,

suddenly You are everywhere
and the story begins. 

from the ,, Dinner at Minski´s and other poems / 2O16 /