Den: 24.2.2023

Ustali si.

dne Publikoval Midian PoetNapsat komentář

V pozadí hraje Velvet Undreground, nejsem majitelem autorských práv, nečekaná slova , napsaná a čtená, bez přípravy, okamžitá akce, všechno nebo nic.

Ustlali si.

Lubomír Tomik

hejno andělů,
hojno ďáblů,

ustlali si oni
na mostě Rialto

hojno andělů
hejno ďáblů

vypili všechen čas,
snědli zrnka přesýpacích hodin

napili se jedů,
nadýchali zplodin

ano ano ano,
ta chvíle na konci vidličky


........................................


They laid down.

Lubomír Tomik

flock of angels
devils galore

they laid down
on the Rialto Bridge

a multitude of angels
a flock of devils

they drank all the time
they ate the grains of the hourglass

they drank poison
they inhaled the fumes

Yes Yes Yes,
that moment at the end of the fork


............................................................................................................................

Peace by Thomas Poehlmann.

dne Publikoval Midian PoetNapsat komentář

http://www.liberland.org

Peace.

Thomas Poehlmann

Hie is not dead
He lives in us
he was awakened from the
dreams of life
Is is who we are aurrounded by
the specters and shadows of war
Lost in our worries
before morning
like waking from a nightmare
what remains is hope for a light at 
the end of the tunnel
only an illusion or mirage of the
lonely
Rufers in the desert
stone tablet Moses with the
commandment in his hand "Thou
shalt not kill !"
Commandments that can bring us
light when we open our eyes
They are multi-colored rays that
enter us like catherdal windows -
The light of love and respect
that in us the rays of
it gives hope and desire
for peace!
He lives in us
He is not dead!

Vějířem.

dne Publikoval Midian PoetNapsat komentář
Court Lady with a Fanu2014a Cherry-Tree in Bloom by Yashima Gakutei is licensed under CC-CC0 1.0

………………………………………………………………………….

Vějířem .
Lubomír Tomik

vějířem jehliček do očí,
rozevřené karty,
kožené,
nejasné barvy

parkety,
na rty

déšť sytí něžné tlející těla porcelánových hrůz.
...................................................................................

With a fan.
Lubomír Tomik

with a fan of needles in the eyes,
open cards,
leather,
unclear colors

parquet,
on lips

rain feeds the tender rotting bodies of porcelain horrors.
........................................................................................................