Wandering the streets of Providence.

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Bloumání v ulicích Providence.

In THIS house.
Wandering the streets of Providence. Read and recorded FOR YOU, my love.

Crystal Defanti

Wandering the streets of Providence.

Lubomír Tomik

 From a soaked ditch flooded with blood and mustard
 Mrs. Defanti's body crawls on her back,
 It slid through the mud and
 men in uniform were leaking vitreous,
 The whites of whites whipped in a riot of vibrators.

 The first star in the sky in a moment
 I look into your eyes
 To those crematorium fires,

 The darkening blue of the sky pushes light beyond the horizon,
 Behind The Horizon Behind The Horizon Behind The Horizon compresses it until the moment of the coming Night,

 The red disk intersects with the silhouettes
 the last few remaining TV antennas,

 All palms pierced by Mrs. Defanti's heels
 You throw them behind your head and
 our hands come together
 bone intertwines with bone.

 United blood vessels fused with hearts,
 Night is coming in Arco cafe,
 Guests are poured cold coffee with a wink,
 Waving the wings of ravens with that eternal croaking : NEVERMORE

 Greasy black feathers soaked in rain with razor blades
 in which you don't dance much

Mrs. Defantio is coming
 with an umbrella made of soapy male faces,
 the twists of the beard with foam fall on the faded lino
 with the sound of trampled candies at the foot of the gallows tree
 where the noose is long empty.

 Wandering the streets of Providence.
 All that someone else's skin
 they suddenly ride down.

 The period of FLESH is coming.
From the Dinner at Minski´s

Mezitím ve stejném Studiu Shaark .

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Nahrával jsem ve stejném Studio Shaark jako Root. Albert Hoffman řekl : ,,Realita je nepředstavitelná bez nějakého subjektu, který ji zažívá.“ Dobrá…jsem tedy já ten ,,subjekt “ ?

Nebo jsi to TY ? A já tvořím Tvou realitu ?

Děje se tohle všechno ?

Jsi skutečná ?

Jsi.

Dlouhé léto před koncem světa.

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Long summer before the end of the world.

Long summer before the end of the world. Read and recorded for You in Studio Shaark
Long summer before the end of the world.

Lubomír Tomik


 
When I ran my hands over the greasy clay of You,
 wrapped in a drying peel of mud,
 burned from within with your own breath,

 long summer before the end of the world
 we just hugged,

 there was no time for anything more.

 There was no time
 was not
 time

Mokrý písek. Wet sand.

dne Publikoval Midian Poet1 komentář 
Wet sand.

Lubomír Tomik

 Put a noose of your hand with a dagger in your fist in the hole in the wet sand,

 And add something else there,
 something of Your soul.

 The water rises higher,
  just leave everything to yourself,
 locks his stash.

 Girl, Woman, Old woman
 The curtain is now torn down.

 O,
  the Great Unknown.

 You'd be safe if I wasn't here.
Wet sand. Read and recorded for You in Studio Shaark
Macbeth Witches by Roman Polanski /1971 /
Dinner at Minski´s by me. /2016 /

Two morning poems for You.

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Read and recorded in Studio Shaark
Long Margaret.

Lubomír Tomik

- according to folklore about the heart eater / biting is ONLY sound /-


 Oh, Long Margaret, I'm here
 Oh, here I am

 I have not yet entered this world
 and you want me now

 Oh, Long Margaret
 Oh, here I am

 I still can't see my mother's face
 and rot in your stomach all the time

 O Long Margaret
 Oh, here I am

 another heart was missing
 and the work is done!
Eat the saliva of the witch .

 Eat at the saliva of the witch 
 and the heart will not grow again

 the grimacing beast withdraws
 the needle is waving its wand

,,vjechtica"
 opens the chest

 it will pull out your heart and crush it in its teeth
 dust from it then falls on her neck, on her shoulders
 on her arms, on her beautiful breasts
 in her lipstick smile

 the teeth will turn into knives beforehand
 eat the saliva of the witch
 and heart
               again GROW.
The Loooooong Margaret
Eat the saliva of the witch.
Lunar Beauty Witch Bitch Liquid Lipstick – Glam Raider

Když se dostaneš na konec scény. When you get to the end of the scene.

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Read nad recorded for You in Studio Shaark
When you get to the end of the scene.
When you get to the end of the scene.

Lubomír Tomik

 when you get to the end of the scene
 the celluloid melts
 pours over the edge of the table
 flows down on you
 I draw shapes with my eyes on him
 pupil prints
 in the area just below the ribs
  in which electric shocks burst dry

 the other woman suddenly looks me in the eye
 in my hand Your breast in a cloud of fragrant smoke

 WE are at the end of the scene.

Postavit na kávu a čekat. Stand for coffee and wait.

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Stand for coffee and wait. Postavit na kávu a čekat. Read and recorded for You, my darling in Studio Shaark
Stand for coffee and wait.

Lubomír Tomik

 murderous creaking of worms in furniture,
 clinking triangles into men in fractions,
 choirs down the streets,
 a river of souls flowing around a quiet door
 sometimes it freezes
 sometimes it is dry
 and only sometimes,

 rare,

  comes out of the trough and sweeps everything in front of .

 Stand for coffee and wait.





from  ,,Dinner at Minski´s  and other poems“  /2016/


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Our old enemy.      Náš starý nepřítel.

						

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Our old enemy.   Read and recorded for You, my Love, in  Studio Shaark










,,Our old enemy, the SATAN !!!“ -said priest at Sunday Mass.
I noticed and cut my ears.





I thought:
-Oh dear,, we’re in the middle of a soul conflict!!!





from ,,Dinner at Minski´s and other poems.“  /2016/





Vidle - Satan - Ptákoviny Smíchov







			
					

	




			
				


			
				


			
				


			

		

			
On the gun carriage of phantoms E.P.              Na lafetě přízraků E.P.

						

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On the gun carriage E.P.                                         Read and recorded for You in Studio Shaark





On the gun carriage E.P.
/for You/

Lubomír Tomik

 On a carriage of ghosts of running water glued to the red tail lights of death,
  E.P. leaves and I wander through Venice,
 the gondolas collide,
 they shatter easily like couples in love in the early evening,

  just like that,
 it would be said.
 just like that



/and E.P. is ...of course....                                                                                              ...Ezra. /                Ezra Pound z pohledu odložené dcery | Hospodářské noviny (iHNed.cz)


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Pro Tebe : I can’t survive NOW.     Nedokáži přežít TEĎ.

						

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Nedokáži přežít TEĎ.

 Lubomír Tomik


 Nedokáži přežít TEĎ bez Tebe,

 čas je  gumička ve Tvých vlasech ,
 natahuje se a smršťuje,

 čas je Tvůj úsměv, 
 natahuje se a smršťuje,

 čas je smrt vedle v nemocničním pokoji při docela dobrém obědě,
 najednou zmatek a shon,

 několik týdnů  jsem se nehnul z pokoje, 
max na na invalidním vozíku , záchod a potají do sprchy,
 po nehodě jsem znal jen jeden ostrov,
 na něm Ty a pokoj s vyhlídkou na život,

 po jídle  se natáhnout a otočit na druhý bok, 
 zavřít oči a díval se do Tvých,
 vše ostatní …nereálné,
 nedůležité….nějaká smrt při docela dobrém obědě,
 ve vedlejším pokoji,

 jen nedokáži přežít teď,
 bez Tebe.








I can't survive NOW.

 Lubomír Tomik

 I can't survive NOW without you,

 time is a rubber band in Your hair,
  it stretches and contracts,

 time is Your smile
  it stretches and contracts,

time is death next door in the hospital room at a pretty good lunch,
  suddenly confusion and hustle,

I didn't move out of the room for a few weeks,
 only on a wheelchair, toilet and secretly in the shower,
  after the accident I only knew one island,
  on it You and a room with a view to life,

 after the meal I reached out and turned to the other side,
   close eyes and looked at yours,

  everything else was… unrealistic,
  not recommended… .some death at a pretty good lunch,
  in the next room,

 just can't survive NOW
  without YOU.