DJ Galactic.

Fotografie od 7inchs na


DJ Galactic.

Lubomír Tomik

mlhoviny Labutě
DJ Galactic

pomalu se rozpouštějící mračna prachu sluncí zhášených hvězd životů slov výkřiků výkřiků výkřiků
v tichu
v tichu

když se obejmeme,
naše hrudní koše se otevřou

srdce jsem si už dávno s někým vyměnil,
někde ho zapomněl,

nekonečná pole hořících plastů,
DJ Galactic
v mlhovinách labutě,

nasáklá vodou.


DJ Galactic.

Lubomír Tomik

Swans Nebula
DJ Galactic

slowly dissolving clouds of dust suns quenched stars lives words screams screams screams
in silence
in silence

when we hug
our chest will open

I exchanged hearts with someone a long time ago,
forgot it somewhere

endless fields of burning plastics,
DJ Galactic
in swan nebulae,

soaked in water.


,,Není čeho se bát.

Prostě čtení se Smrtí. ,,A za ruku jsem držel astronatku Petersovou“. Kapitola 39.

Fotografie od Mehmet Turgut Kirkgoz na

Čteno a nahráno ve Studiu Midian. Napsáno před více jak před deseti lety, jakákoliv shoda se ,,skutečnými“ jmény místy cokoli je pouze náhodná, pokud to není synchronicita.

Chapter 39 – Hombres que rison.
And I held astronaut Peters by the hand.

Lubomír Tomik

Chapter thirty-nine.

Men who love

Decide to leave. Will to go into seclusion and wait in peace for God.
Wouldn't you do it?

Men who love. They follow us all the way to central London, where Miss Rybízová sells her dreams. Isn't everything just a dream after all? In someone's dream?

They are on our heels, I feel them drooling, fighting over the places in front, their fingers rummaging in Gordian all-encompassing smiles.
- You faces, "says Mr. Marek.

He stops the carriage and jumps out of the trestle. He smiled.
The blonde got out of the carriage. She smiled too.
Maybe everything will turn out well.

Maybe not.

Ruins, weeds and corpses eaten by rats.
Mr. Marek slaps the blonde in the ass. A hand crossing the air with a soft rustling sound hits the flesh of her buttocks, oh her buttocks, where she forms a whole wave of shaking fat.

-Everything , I loved doing it all. I'm addicted to it. I'm just thinking about the blinding light behind my eyes, nothing else. On the sharp needles of pain when biting.On the feeling at the end of the tongue.-
-They're just poorly lit porn movies, "he says.
-Art is to irritate the viewer, to snatch thoughts of everything from him, to do it with the feeling of satisfaction from participating, to tell him: -Look here I am and I do this, here is a world in which there are no borders, we are captured in those moments forever, there is no it's not even a desire, it's a slicing of meat, it's flies crawling on the greenish pork loaf at the market in Lithuania, it makes you feel like you rent a body in the future, you use it and teleport it back. The darkest desires behind closed doors, each alone and their eyes looking up at you, waiting for you to go. What else can be done to entertain the audience. It's not this way?-

The smell of evil wafted around them so much that it was almost palpable.
- We have to move on, "said Mr. Marek.

Did the blonde suddenly blush, remember something, or see into the future?
And just at the moment when her face was covered with blush, I appeared.
And I'm telling you, I saw in red.

End of chapter thirty-ninth. 
Trumfová karta Crowleyho Tarotu na publikaci těchto slov je ...dnes podruhé.
Ještě jednou -karet je 78, plus Dva Mágové...a podruhé dnes  Smrt.
Něco skončilo.

Ale také ...z výkladu:
,, Smrt neznamená vaši doslovnou smrt. Naopak v tomto roce prožijete smrt jako symbol svého starého ,já“. Zaniknou přitom určité typy vztahů (v tomto růstu roce se může objevit rozvod), uzavřou se určité tvůrčí projekty nebo skončí pracovní závazky. Současně vás naplní touha vstoupit do nových vztahů, začít s novými projekty a s budováním nové kariéry. Tím budete chtít vyjádřit své nově objevené aspekty."
Co článek s touto fotografií, před pár dny,v němž píši o pohřbu sama sebe ? Platí to ?

Poet Video ,,Část“

Modrý chlápek na cestách, v Praze. Nahráno ve Studiu Midian. Otlučený plechový kufr plný vzpomínek.

lyrics :


Lubomír Tomik

čast mne,
se Ti teď,
v minulosti  budoucnosti dívá do očí


část času
zahalená v mlze
stalo se 
stalo se 
stalo se
děje se
děje se 
děje se
stane se
stane se
stane se


Lubomír Tomik

part of me
are you now
 looks into  your  eyes of the past and the future


part of the time
shrouded in fog
it is happening
it is happening
it is happening

Karta Crowleyho Tarotu na publikaci Poet Videa je ,, Smrt." 
Ano. Něco skončilo.

Čtení v únorovém dopoledni….,,A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou “ Kapitola 37.

Čteno a nahráno ve Studiu Midian. Zvuk v pozadí , Archiv BBC, volně dostupné pro neziskové projekty, přesněji- Period Battle – Eleventh Century Battle, large army fighting with swords & axes.

Fotografie od Pixabay na
Kapitola 37.


And I held astronaut Peters by the hand.

Lubomír Tomik

Chapter thirty-seven.

Beautiful court lady and Helene Blehárová.

When I came out of the bathroom, I was surprised to find that Miss Blehar had packed a tailcoat and other things for the trip.
Since she seemed to have taken her mind by hand, I tried to indicate to her with a friendly pat that I had already forgiven her.

Me: -Nobody can pack as nicely as you, Miss Blehar.
Miss Blehar: - So? -
Me: - Old man! -

I was very angry that she did not answer. The last expression was not, of course, the happiest, but Miss Blehár could be so terribly annoyed that she would froth the blood to the Holy Spirit himself.
There is necessarily a drop of bile at the bottom of each cup.

We committed a deadly sin with an unnamed nun several times, confessed to torture, and had to walk the naked streets of London, stoned and loyal believers stoned us and spat at us full of sincere ugliness, and before we released souls at the border, we confessed to all other horrible shame and people screamed and cried.
That was before.
Bodies covered with colorful scales of newspapers and magazines, rainbow curtains of tropical rain fall on London.
Reflection drowns out the sound of melodic gong.
Emergency signal. Mexican smog.

They pounce on each other and it's all over in a minute.
I'll throw myself into everything.
We have an Indian summer here.

The beautiful court lady inhales the lukewarm night air and observes the sky, the stars composing the constellations, the Southern Cross, the Centaur, the triangle and the Altar a little to the right. His evening despondency slowly dissipates in the majesty of the universe, which at one point has come within his fingers, throws a lasso, and pulls the moon to himself.
In the last fire of the evening sun, everything grows to heroic proportions. The mountains are higher and more majestic, the forests denser and more mysterious.
About twenty miles to the northwest, the last gas-filled garages exploded.
He drinks liters of black coffee.
She walks around him, strokes him and sniffs at him, digging her fingernail into him. He turns and swaps. - Think of something nice Sullivan. Think of me, for example. -
The choke figs run in long spirals, long and noble.
Sullivan is stunned by the smell of her body, he thinks of her seeing her yesterday with a milk jug, he can feel the laminar flow of sterile air, his lips move, and he says something in a hoarse voice.
Silence is annoying and sticky. 

Everything always ends in silence.

End of chapter thirty-seven

Karta Crowleyho Tarotu na publikaci je.... ,,Chtíč"

The Raft of the Medusa.

Ztroskotání Medůzy.

Lubomír Tomik

Medůza šla ke dnu
a nebylo do zpěvu

Medůza šla ke dnu 
a nebylo veselo

Medůza šla ke dnu
a za dny oceánu

kost kosti kosti kosti kosti
ohlodané rybami lidmi,

maso za všelijakými zuby
Medůza šla ke dnu 

lidé a přežití
nekonečný příběh

zatni zuby,
než si je někdo vezme!


The raft of Medusa.

Lubomír Tomik

The Medusa went to the bottom
and there was no singing

The Medusa went to the bottom
and it was not merry

The Medusa went to the bottom
and in the days of the ocean

bone bone to bone bone bone 
 eaten by humans,fish

meat behind all kinds of teeth
The Medusa went to the bottom

people and survival
endless story

 so clenc your teeth,
before anyone take them! 



Karta Crowleyho Tarotu na publikaci smutných, kanibalských slov je….. jsou Dva Poháry, z nichž se jednou napijeme.