Večerní čtení ,, A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou.“ Kapitola 15. ….Sladká Bombaj….

Crowley - 1 - mag
Fotografie od Saurabh Parange na

And I held astronaut Peters by the hand.

Lubomír Tomik

Chapter Fifteen.

Now the melody is clear.

Now the melody is clear, it’s the noise of the radio transmission, from somewhere they seemed.
It sounds in the alley leading to the sea. He sits on a bench and immediately gets up. He’s moving on. The waterfront is empty. He was left alone. With a secret he couldn’t tell anyone. It was night and the world was asleep. People may have made love or talked or killed each other, none of them as hopeless as he was at the time. So desperately alone.

-I’m nowhere… –
He stopped and realized he was talking to himself.
-Where am I? If death is like this, it’s nothing nice konec it’s over! The end of the people, the end of the trees, the birds are no longer flying in the air… –
He looks up with teary eyes and tears as he hears footsteps. Human steps. A veiled figure approaches him.
He’s going to meet her.
Then he looks her in the face.
-I’ve seen you before!
-It’s possible… -There was no answer with the quiet waterfront.
-Your face is familiar to me from somewhere! – and then it occurs to him and his eyes widen into the void of that moment.
The character speaks: -Weird! How did you know I was Sherlock Holmes?-

He runs, letting out screams of terror and horror, of hopeless despair, nothing else.
Holmes watched his wild jet, his lips curling with the hatred with which he shouted-Don’t worry friend, we still have a long life ahead of us, the two of us… –
I tapped Holmes on the shoulder, and as he turned, I erased his face with Imaginary Shotgun, from this world. The body slid to the ground and splashes of blood covered the cobblestones. Almost, I almost didn’t make it. He almost got the poor man. After all, it was on the other side of the globe, and the space jump device didn’t have all the flies caught yet.
I looked around.

Oh, Mumbai, sweet Mumbai. It was empty everywhere.

One single live guy, well, well, I heard him through the distance, but what was valid when I arrived late anyway. He went crazy, I saw it in his eyes, when I found him huddled in a corner of the house two hours later, I couldn’t do anything else.
I turned on the tap and aimed it back.
… You go into the depths of a shady alley, a barely audible whisper reaches your ear. You wonder where it may be. The whisper is repeated, now you can recognize the words:

-We are sending an extraordinary message, we are sending an extraordinary message…. Citizens of the Earth! Citizens of the Earth! A message for all who survived! The TV studio is speaking to you! We’re transmitting from section 4718, on the far side of the moon! Citizens of the Earth! Our devices have had wonderful dreams… -!!!!!!!

End of the fifteenth chapter.
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Sedmá hodina odbila,, A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou. Kapitola 13.“

Napsáno více jak před deseti lety, jakákoli podobnost se jmény postavami povoláními příjmeními je čistě náhodná nebo je to klasická synchronicita.

Fotografie od Pixabay na A Edit Novel for You, Chapter Thirteen.

And I held astronaut Peters in my hand.

Lubomír Tomik

Chapter thirteen.

Mr. Marek wakes up.
Mr. Marek wakes up from the terrible catatonia he got stuck in thanks to the scholar Komet.
-Ajta python.-: he says to himself.
And he continues the conversation with the sink.
He grips his knees and looks like an immaterial old man.
Mr. Marek, whom everyone loves.
Darling crowds.

I tilt my head and enter like the sun. I’m disappearing into the picture folder of horror.
Sad images return and flicker between my fingers, and so does Mr. Marek, whom I actually came to kill.
He knows why. And he knows it very well.
I fired the Imaginary Shotgun around me, the only catch being a couple of dead thorns and the shadows of faded galleries.

End of chapter thirteen.


Crowley - 6 - milenci

Čtení v šest hodin odpoledne šest minut šest vteřin…

Fotografie od Yelena Odintsova na

And I held astronaut Peters by the hand.

Lubomír Tomik

Chapter Eleven.

Coach Directions.

Tragedy. It was a tragedy. But he wasn’t quite sure.
Eventually he turned, Coaching Directions.
-How do you want to stop him.-
I shook my head: -We have no hope ….-

He turned and addressed the invisible crowds of his faithful: -We will say goodbye and sail on, brothers, we will find an island large enough and fertile enough to grow bread for us, for us all.-
He had lived in London since time immemorial and believed that there was such a thing as islands.
He was tormented by the thought, counting down the hours and composing positive waste. He didn’t even notice that the two metal plates, whose loved ones and friends were merging into a single huge piece of metal: -I couldn’t help them- something suddenly interrupted the flow of his thoughts.
March, the way when gusts of pressure force individual days, days, days, days, days…
He hasn’t eaten body parts yet.
The lungs didn’t have enough air to eat breakfast, now the waves and discontinuous fragments of impulses brought furniture into the cabin.
-The talk won’t help us now.-
Death, Truth, the roar of thunder, and a time of excruciating inevitability awaited the door.
Enough demagoguery, he said.
-I want to mark seconds and minutes with nitroatom structure.-
Do you want to? – Mr. Marek asked.
-I want it… -He whispered Coaches Directions.
Mr. Marek asked, thinking-Dreams and desires, dreams and desires, plans for the future, cha cha.-
-I’ll work on it, ”Coachman Directions said, walking among his invisible faithful.
The beautiful court lady slept. She breathed slowly. Her renaissance clothes were like onion slices. Just peel them off, but so that you don’t cry!

End of chapter eleven.
Crowley - 9 - poustevnik

…čtení na sobotní odpoledne,,A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou “ : Kapitola deset.

Fotografie od Pierre Blachu00e9 na

Napsáno více jak před deseti lety, jakákoli podobnost se jmény postavami povoláními příjmeními je čistě náhodná nebo je to klasická synchronicita.

Čteno a nahráno ve Studiu Midian.

And I held astronaut Peters by the hand.
Lubomír Tomik
Chapter ten.

In places! To the places for a souvenir photo !!!!

I was lying on the floor next to the bed, the curtain on the window was already fading at dawn, I raised my hand to my eyes, there was no sign of the ring, so it was just a dream?
The bed is empty and made.
Someone tries to open the door from the outside, out of the hallway, and presses the doorknob several times.
-Open Hamilton!-
Hamilton, his eyes wide, shouts: – You get used to it! I did a partial brain transplant and rejuvenated the centers that needed it most.

A casket carried by four men appeared in the doorway. People are pushing behind her. Let’s see Hamilton’s father.
Don Hamilton Balosa and two ministers walk out the side entrance and get ready about a hundred meters from the church. Behind them, a parade ranks quickly. There are wreaths hanging on the car.
Someone announces to Don Hamilton that he can go now.
-It’s burning, he said. -It’s actually burning… yes… you brought something… and probably that’s why you came back alive… –
Distrust will unfold in those in the procession. someone is covered because it is damp. It’s waiting without enthusiasm.
Glowing point of a cigarette.
The fog in the distance covered the lights on the shore.

The photographer builds the camera and shouts: – To the places! Places for a souvenir photo !!! –
And it is at this moment that everyone’s attention is focused on the noise from the distant shore.
Even later, no one could figure out what was part of the dream and what was reality.
On a large ship, Don Hamilton Balosa, his charges and a nun pray. There is a muffled whisper.
One bachelor is vomiting.
-So eat me… you human corpses… -His generous offer, however, is not being fulfilled.

And a narrow trickle of blood ran to meet them from the cluttered pile of metal and bodies. There was a scream, as painful as a scalpel.
Now the blind man of Cantarel put his accordion on his knees, and after a few chords, he began to sing the madrigal for the bride in his strangled voice.
His voice is beginning to rise over all the unreal scenery of smiles and distant wrongs and attacks on the tabernacles of the world, we live in it, it leaves us cold, it shouldn’t. And it’s me and it’s you.
He shuts up.
-,,What are you talking about? „Cried the bride muffled, in tears.-Can’t you see you’re in front of my house?“
She’s crying.
Tears like peas.
Old, puffy and bitter.
Wild kittens lick them off the ground and die during long-term painful bouts.

The waiter in a business cafe sleeps standing. The dog with its tongue out sneaks right along the wall.
-I’d like to know one more thing.-I said after some hesitation.-Where did you get a girl like that?
We sat on the floor, on the floor facing each other, but I heard him on the phone. He me too. the current buzzed, the tape recorder spoke and spoke, he blinked behind the glass, his hands on his knees and said without haste. I will not open.-
And he slid to the ground between the closet and the window.
The moaning suddenly stopped. His tense face relaxed and he opened his eyes.
-Well, we have to wait for the result of the analysis. Only chromatography can tell something, because everything is broken.
-Oh so-I understand. -Her sister succumbs to bouts of insanity, which are very dangerous for the environment.It must be isolated.-
Why did you tell me? – he asked, hovering.
-Because you’re a little tall yourself. Almost at the ceiling. – I smiled.
Then followed the fall and growl of his trachea.
I wiped my knife on my pants and left.

End of chapter ten.
Crowley - 20 - aeon

Poet Video ,,Viditelnost znamenitá“

Crowley - 1 - mag
Bez diskuze.
Napsáno, načteno, natočeno,sestříháno,ozvučeno ve Studiu Midian, zvuk z archivu BBC -konkrétně, 
atmosféra v Pakistánu.
 ,,Atmospheres: Afternoon - Lakeside oasis, mid-afternoon, winter, Kirtha Ra National Park, Pakistan, many frogs,some close-up, also birds, insects and wind in trees" volně dostupné pro neziskové účely.

Excellent visibility.

Lubomír Tomik

faces behind masks,
black not black
on burning red,

faces in autumn,
moaning of leaves,
excellent visibility 

Crowley - 1 - mag


Fotografie od Mariel Carrasco na



Lubomír Tomik

vybíhali ze zákopů, 
vlna za vlnou,

proti palebné síle kulometů Reality neměli šanci,
přesto šli,

duchové v mokvajících kůžích ,
které dříve bývali naživu



Lubomír Tomik

they ran out of the trenches,
wave after wave,

against the firepower of machine guns of Reality did not have a chance,
yet they went

ghosts in wet skin,
who used to live 

Crowley - 2 - veleknezka


Čekala by jsi ,že na konci se budou trhat dva trupy čtyřspřežím Alexandrových koní ?

Lubomír Tomik

zakloním hlavu,
vesměs Kleopatřin obelisk,

necháš mne zblízka číst hieroglyfy Tvého těla
tajná abeceda v kartuších ukrytá

zakloním hlavu
zasypeš mne,
řídíš nakladač,

lžíce plná písků,
kam jedeš ,

všichni tři jsme v Tangeru,
že se někdo vrátí
a to je zlověstné,

čtyřspřeží Alexandrových koní zabralo,
nestačíme se divit,
dva trupy se skoro obejmou a koně,
koně ty zamíří do stepí,
na lanech naše končetiny,
přepestré květiny
lásce obětiny

Lubomír Tomik

I bow my head,
mostly Cleopatra’s obelisk,

you let me read the hieroglyphs of your body up close
secret alphabet hidden in cartouches

I tilt my head
you cover me
drive loader,
a spoon full of sands,

where are you going ,
you have no idea
the three of us are in Tangier,
doesn’t think
that someone will return
and that’s sinister

the quartet of Alexander’s horses took
we can’t help but wonder
the two hulls almost hug and the horses,
the horses go to the steppes,
on the ropes of our limbs,
colorful flowers
love of the sacrifice


Crowley - 21 - vesmir

Excellent visibility.

Fotografie od lilartsy na


Viditelnost znamenitá.

Lubomír Tomik

tváře za maskami,
černé ne černé,
na hořící červené,

tváře za podzimy,
sténání listí,
viditelnost znamenitá


Excellent visibility.

Lubomír Tomik

faces behind masks,
black not black
on burning red,

faces in autumn,
moaning of leaves,
excellent visibility 


Crowley - 9 - poustevnik