Sobotní Poet Čtení : Tygr. William Blake…

Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies,
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand, dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp!

When the stars threw down their spears
And water’d heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?


Hudba v pozadí Immortal ,,Antartica" Nejsem majitelem autorských práv, nikdy nevím co se stane.


Lubomír Tomik

psychological support,
psychological addiction,

psychic steam from cauldrons rising to the sky
mingling with Kerberus' plume of sulfur from his nostrils

thoughts of you
you shine and you have no fire
you burn and have no light

you drum in the sky in the form of the fallen stars,
to the sky
to the sky

ancient fires
ancient sulphur

the dam is death, good

in the end every dam will fall
granite, concrete,
rubble in gorges

psychic carnivals,
a wax bath is recommended by nine out of ten angels before flight,
but where is the bathroom in the Labyrinth, that's another question for the body,

Your silky body,
lights into the Night.