Skull top.
Lubomír Tomik
The woman was standing in front of the top of skull,
rising in the fading outgoing sun,
legs were just an idea,
looking up eagerly,
withdrew the rusting loincloth with her hand,
harlot
went to work
in the distance was the sound of sheep in the valley,
nearby,
escaped someone with pursed lips,
faint moaning
of pleasure.
I want You.
Vrcholek lebky.
Lubomír Tomik
Žena stála před vrcholkem lebky,
v slábnoucím odcházejícím slunci stoupala nahoru,
nohy byly už jen myšlenkou,
nedočkavá vzhlédla ,
stáhla rukou rezavějící bederní roušku ,
nevěstka
se dala do práce,
z dálky se údolím rozléhal bekot ovcí,
nablízku ,
někomu unikl rozpraskanými rty zvuk,
slabé sténání
rozkoše.
Chci Tě.
Read and recorded For You once in Studio Shaark i read poem from the ,,Dinner at Minski´s“ /2016/
Put him in a shallow grave.
Lubomír Tomik
put him down
to a shallow grave
dusty dogs feel easy prey
put him down
to a shallow grave
under the sky swept by the painter's brush into red
put ME down
to a shallow grave
První přepis nahrávání 20.4.21, je to …protože na nahrávku stříhám video, slyšel jsem záznam asi milionkrát…přepisuji ho kvůli překladu do angličtiny a :
A desolate, uncultivated paradise.
words: Lubomír T.
read and improvise: Dagmar O. and Jitka M.
recorded 20.4.21 in DARKov
the goal was everything
hot meat of Eve
Eva's hot meat tasted good
desolate uncultivated paradise
the goal was everything
Eva's hot meat tasted good
the goal was everything
desolate uncultivated paradise
hot meat of Eve
the goal was everything
a desolate, uncultivated paradise
the glowing flesh of Eve
did Eva's hot meat taste?
and the goal was everything?
hot meat of Eve!
desolate uncultivated paradise!
and the goal was everything!
Eva's hot meat tasted good
It tasted good.
It tasted good.
It tasted good.
It tasted good.
Eve's hot meat.
Eve's hot meat.
Eva's hot meat tasted good
Eva's hot meat tasted good
Dočteno podruhé…podruhé jsem se ztratil v poli vlčích máků, Alanově vyprávění, Melindiných obrazech…v Tobě, protože jsi zároveň byla se mnou při čtení a tanci očí na každé stránce.
River Dunaj in ViennaStufio, ruler of the side streets. Read and record For You in Studio Shaark From the collections of poems ,,Dinner at Minski´s /2019/
Stufio, ruler of the side streets.
Lubomír Tomik
Shortly after the end of the war
they come from Vienna
three
four
per day
mostly naked and tied to a goat,
hands around the neck
they do not bury them.
They let them go downstream,
like some puffy and pale,
mysterious,
toy boats.
What are You not telling me?
Lubomír Tomik
What I don't know are boxing gloves,
glued pieces of glass,
what You're not telling me
are execution squads of ideas,
I wake up to the strict commands of executioners from the panopticon of days,
barking machine gun,
whistling bullets,
falling into a pit,
greasy clay pits,
after rain full of water,
-Splash! -
and it's not Daryl Hannah
-Another splash "and it's not aging Tom Hanks,
Daryl has nothing to do with it,
what I don't know are the feet in the concrete at the docks,
heavy,
motionless,
my Everything.
Co mi neříkáš.
Lubomír Tomik
To co nevím, jsou boxerské rukavice ,
polepené kusy skla,
to co mi neříkáš
jsou popravčí čety myšlenek,
budím se do přísných povelů katů z panoptika dnů,
štěkání kulometu
hvízdání kulek,
pád do jámy,
mazlavé hlíny jámy,
po dešti plné vody,
-Šplouch !-
a není to Daryl Hannah
-Další šplouch „ a není to stárnoucí Tom Hanks,
Daryl s tím nemá nic společného,
to co nevím jsou nohy v betonu u přístavních hrází,
těžké,
bez hnutí,
mé Všechno.
I experienced something like this firsthand yesterday … … this video approaching reality, close..but not too close … it was live ….. it took my breath away. And…For You. Thanks for experience.
Read and recorded for You once in Studio Shaark , behind glass is sound engineer Pavel Hlavica…echoes on end of the poem is his work, thanks.Words.
Soft words about the end.
Lubomír Tomik
You're hovering over an ice field,
silent scars cut into the body of the snow
I haven't known you in a long time,
blood drew soft words in the snow
about the end,
suddenly You are everywhere
and the story begins.
from the ,, Dinner at Minski´s and other poems / 2O16 /
sorrow.
Lubomír Tomik
sorrow
gallop
sheaves of rain
neatly tied
sorrow
gallop
horse hooves
asked for the journey
She said:
A land without you
copy flight level
waves of Lake Bina,
You are magical, You are direct
perhaps.
-I'm A Grief Bird. - said J.K.,
wrinkles fall to the ground,
took root and fell asleep.
sorrow
gallop
heat for a while,
cursed
sexappeal.
žal.
Lubomír Tomik
žal
cval
snopy deště
úhledně svázal
žal
cval
kopyt koní
na cestu se tázal
Řekla:
-Krajinou bez tebe,
kopírovat letem hladinu,
vlny jezera Bina,-
jsi kouzelná, jsi přímá
snad.
-Jsem Pták Žal. – řekl J.K.
vrásky se sesypaly na zem,
zapustil kořeny a usnul.
žal
cval
žár chvil,
prokletý
sexappeal.
Born of You
Lubomír Tomik
I was born of You,
a wall finally coming from the chest,
when the heart aches
you can't breathe properly
I was born of You,
I swallowed the sun and the moon,
nothing helps
quench the hunger
I was born of You,
send me a piece of your face,
so I can forget.
You.
Read and recorded For You once in Studio Shaark , my love, from collections of poems with You on the front page… THE Name of THE Beauty. Behind the glass is sound engineer Pavel.
The baby from behind the oven.
/according to an old Irish legend /
Lubomír Tomik
The baby from behind the oven,
the baby is not mine
the baby from behind the oven,
teeth of appreciation
which Devil exchanged you for me,
which Goblin took the handle
and a little elf behind the furnace,
didn't even dare with fear .
Shades of Iodine.
Lubomír Tomik
I will write You
merging in shades of Iodine
I will write You
smoldering after a fire
I will write you
in the serpentines of deep lakes
sketched in the colors of the setting sun,
I inhale You,
every
second
every
cell of the
body
You,
a long-lost castle at the bottom of the seas,
where the light does not penetrate.
Odstíny Jódu.
Lubomír Tomik
napíši si Tě,
splývající v odstínech jódu
napíši si Tě,
doutnající po požáru
napíši si Tě,
v serpentýnách jezer hlubokých
načrtnutou barvami zapadajícího slunce,
inhaluji Tě,
každou
vteřinou
každou
buňkou
těla
Tebe,
dávno ztracený zámek na dně moří,
kam světlo nedohlédne.
lví hřívy reality, do nichž se dá ulehnout a spustit
s
e
b
e
v
r
a
ž
e
d
né
stroje siesty.
El funeral de un vikingo, por Frank Dicksee.jpg
The world is unexpected.
Lubomír Tomik
the fluorescent lights will cover you,
tube from the heart of the ceilings
lion manes of reality,
into which it is possible to lie down
and run
k
i
l
l
i
ng
s
u
i
c
i
des
ma
chi
nes
of
siesta
Eve by J.M. Práce na stříhání zvukové stopy ,,Žhnoucího masa Evy“ a v pozadí nechtěná hudba…znovu….a lépe…nejlépe, citlivý mikrofon zachytil i zvuky z povzdálí.
Vodojemy na vrcholcích kopců. Read and recorded 18.4.21 u Kostela Narození Panny Marie v Orlové, pro Tebe.Right here.
Reservoirs on the tops of the hills.
/for You/
Lubomír Tomik
The beards of dark tentacles follow You,
rare moments like flying moths
burn in lamps leading to the tops of hills.
the smell of rainbow
heartbeat
the smell of the rainbow
heartbeat
the smell of the rainbow
heartbeat
the smell of the rainbow
which You will wear today
and in the distance at dusk
then
dancing and singing,
under
reservoirs
on the tops of the hills.
The video uses footage from the remains of the fortress in Stonava, reading on the spot, „In the Turkish Room“ and „3:46, 2O: 45 Djáknin“, two poems from the „Night Movers“ collection and reading in the church tower in Stonava. …for You.
… life with You brings these unexpected … moments.
Lyrics:
Ring Of Gold
Silver, the moon high over pond of water calm and dark
Woe, mist, the breath of the dragon, sweeping down mountain side
All still, the day asleep, the sun rests in nest of the Gods
Afar high adventures await me, I hear my brothers calling
Spring is here and the ice breaks free
The endless sky and open sea
I will sail where the Raven will lead me
Fly on black wings, high and free
I shall return with the wind the day
From high adventures, swelling sail
Autumn red comes to Asa bay
Meet me by the well where the water, crystal clear, flows free
From deep within the great mountain towering to the sky
I will be awaiting you coming down treading the trails of elves
Bare feet, let your hair down like the mist across the pond
In dawn of time, before gods and man
When earth and sky was first divided
A star did fall into river deep
A star of gold into silvery water
While I sail, by this you shall remember me
Wear it, yours forever to keep
TO BIND Us BEYOND THE END OF TIME, to thee I give a ring of gold
Palác Růží.
Lubomír Tomik
Nebojí se pohledu do jícnu sopky,
nebojí se ozvěn vlčího vytí,
bydlí v Paláci Růží
A když ztichneš v chladných ránech,
uslyšíš bloudění bosých nožek
ztichlými galeriemi bez návratu,
bydlí v Paláci Růží
A po Nocích je Ona sama Bohyní Lovu,
A je vláčená životem a všichni ti muži,
rozevlátá dobrodružství na
baldachýnech cimbuří,
bydlí
v Paláci Růží.
Palace of Roses.
Lubomír Tomik
She are not afraid to look into the gullet of the volcano,
not afraid of the echo of a wolf's howl,
She lives in the Palace of the Roses
And when you strain your hearing in the cold mornings,
you will hear the wandering of the bare feet
silent galleries without return,
lives in the Palace of the Roses
And in the Nights, She is the Goddess of Hunting,
And She's dragged with life and all those men
jealous adventures on
battlement canopies,
lives
in the Palace of the Roses.
Skylla a Charybda.
Lubomír Tomik
Úžinou Zkázy,
když jsi v náručí někoho jiného
mezi Skyllou očí
mezi Charybdou rtů
leží nejskvělejší ostrov,
úžinou zkázy
když jsi v náručí někoho jiného,
mezi Skyllou očí
mezi Charybdou rtů,
leží nejkrásnější ostrov
leží nejkrásnější převrácený korálový atol,
na němž pořád dokola troskotám,
když pak ohlodané srdce dosedne na mořské dno,
zvíří bílý písek,
vyplaší hejna klaunů
a za chvíli si nikdo ani nevzpomene,
na míhání a pohyb a kmit ,
za chvílí je vše další předtím
kladivouni líčí na svou kořist
chobotnice zamrzne v okamžiku
a my čekáme,
čekáme
až padne noc,
noc duše,
noc citu,
NOC kouzel,
jsou všichni a všechno jen nahraditelné položky,
v Knize napsané Bohem ?
SLOVA ?
Scylla and Charybda.
Lubomír Tomik
Strait of Doom,
when you are in someone else's arms
between Scylla's eyes
between Charybdis of the lips
lies the most beautiful island,
strait of doom
when you're in someone else's arms
between Scylla's eyes
between Charybdis of the lips,
lies the most beautiful island
lies the most beautiful inverted coral atoll,
on which I keep falling,
when the gnawing heart lands on the seabed,
It stirs up white sand,
scare away flocks of clowns
and in a moment no one will even remember
for flickering and movement and oscillation,
in a moment everything else is before
hammerheads depict on their prey
the octopus freezes in an instant
and we are waiting
we are waiting
when night falls
night of the soul,
night of the feels,
NIGHT spells,
Are All and Everything just replaceable items in the Book written by God?
WORDS?
Jeden z nej zážitků, tady, v DARKově….v téhle jídelně..v téhle, při obědě zaplněné, jídelně hrála Metallica v rádiu…hlasitě. Nothing Else Matters…..asi ano, jen na tom okamžiku tehdy v kině, při promítání Metallica – „Français Pour Une Nuit“.
Nože.
Lubomír Tomik
Tvé oči jsou letící nože ,
točím se vzhůru nohama jako překotný viselec v manéži
a ostří se zabodávají do terčů bez označení – Přímo sem !-
K čemu jsou kulisy,
k čemu jsou pouťové atrakce ,
když ve zmatku a vřavě,
zapomeneme sami na sebe ?
Nože protnou Moebiovu pásku a zmizí,
vidlice blesků se klikatí,
blesk je součástí dalšího blesku,
usíná a vstává,
vstává a usíná,
zrcadlo se prohne dovnitř,
vstává a usíná,
otevře oči ve snu někoho jiného,
vstoupí na jeviště , účastní se představení,
v nichž rozšafné nože nakonec nedoletí,
Tvé oči,
nejostřejší nástroje,
zvící skalpelů,
pohozených v Bouloňském lesíku.
Knives.
Lubomír Tomik
Your eyes are flying knives,
I turn upside down like a hung hangman in the circus arena
and the blades are stabbed into targets without marking - Right here! -
What are the scenery for,
what are the fairground attractions for,
when in confusion and turmoil,
we forget about ourselves?
The knives cut through Moebi's tape and disappear,
lightning fork zigzags,
the flash is part of another flash,
falls asleep and gets up,
gets up and falls asleep
the mirror bends inwards,
gets up and falls asleep
opens eyes in someone else's dream,
enters the stage, participates in the performance,
in which the splitting knives do not reach the end,
Your eyes,
the sharpest tools,
scalpels,
scattered in the Boulognes Forest.
Today I want to dress you in the rainbow. Dnes Tě chci obléknout do duhy.
Vodojemy na vrcholcích kopců.
/Po Tebe/
Lubomír Tomik
Vousy tmavých chapadel jdou po Tobě,
vzácné okamžiky jako poletující můry
planou v lampách vedoucích k vrcholkům kopců.
tlukot srdce
vůně duhy
tlukot srdce
vůně duhy
tlukot srdce
vůně duhy
vůně duhy
jíž si dnes oblékneš
a v dálce za soumraku pak
tance a vzývání,
pod
vodojemy,
na vrcholcích kopců.
Reservoirs on the tops of the hills.
/for You/
Lubomír Tomik
The beards of dark tentacles follow You,
rare moments like flying moths
burn in lamps leading to the tops of hills.
the smell of rainbow
heartbeat
the smell of the rainbow
heartbeat
the smell of the rainbow
heartbeat
the smell of the rainbow
which You will wear today
and in the distance at dusk
then
dancing and singing,
under
reservoirs
on the tops of the hills.
Na zámku Napajedla jsem četl pro Tebe…klidně jsi tam mohla stát jako Anneke…byla jsi tam se mnou.Read and recorded 17.12.20 for You on the Castle Napajedla , v Salonku holandských mistrů, se svolením.
-She said: It's the longest vacation.
Lubomír Tomik
she said it's the longest vacation
what are what they are without You
the longest vacation
she said: "It's the longest vacation."
and so :
promises kept as inaccessible borders
resistant to the catapults of cast souls
black smudges in the sky colored like the UN flag
my feet
are Lincoln's stilts the longest vacation.
Without you.
From the collections of poems ,,Bowl of fancy fish.“ /2017/
Vřískající kočičí cikus. Čteno a nahráno pro Tebe, 29.12.21 v Mikulčicích na Valech.
Screaming cat circus.
Lubomír Tomik
screaming cat circus
sneaks up after sunset,
bony furry cat's backs cast shadows,
all the doors around us,
marked lines of lime.
I’ll ho ld You clo se, in the empti ness of gra ve,
completely beeeeeeeeee aten doomed to eeeeeeeeeee mptiness
WE touch each other in concrete shells, Your voice was silent light,
beautiful,
above the surface of Lake Bina.
Znesvěcení.
Lubomír Tomik
při ti sknu ti k sobě
v prá zdno tě hrobu
na několik padrtíííííííííííííííííííííííííí,
odsouzeni k prááááááááázdno tě,
dotýkáme se v betonových skořepinách jeden druhého,
Tvůj hlas byl tiché světlo,
nádherný,
nad hladinou jezera Bina.
Read, recorded and playing on Belfry for You, 12.1.21 on the hill of Sv. Kliment in Buchlov mountain.
If you only knew.
Lubomír Tomik
If you knew
if you knew
what have I done
what have I done
bit you to the bone,
bit you to the bone
hungrily and greedily,
until it was a mouth
full
of MARROW
Grazing black sphinxes.
Lubomír Tomik
It was light,
the shepherd was restless,
he dreamed of you all night,
rotten canned dreams suddenly came to life with new colors,
come alive with the world, with worldly light,
mysterious weddings spinning like crazy unstoppable carousels,
ebony sphinxes circled the lamb,
soothed him
soothed with their demonic bubbling voices,
before they tore him to pieces,
they were fighting over which one to roar from the roaring lamb
a larger piece of meat,
just like You tore me apart
blood tests,
skin,
guts,
red blood running down the polished ebony,
You're beautiful.
Pasení černých sfing.
Lubomír Tomik
Svítalo,
pastýř byl neklidný,
celou noc se mu zdálo o Tobě,
ztrouchnivělé zakonzervované sny najednou ožily novými barvami,
ožily světem, světlem světským ,
tajuplnými svatbami roztáčejícími se jako bláznivé nezastavitelné kolotoče,
ebenové sfingy kroužily kolem beránka,
konejšily ho,
utišovaly svými démonickými bublavými hlasy,
než ho roztrhaly na kusy,
rvaly se o to která si z bečícího beránka urve
větší kus masa,
stejně jako Ty jsi rozervala mne,
šlehy krve,
kůže,
vnitřností,
rudá krev stékající po naleštěném ebenu,
jsi nádherná.
The boys crept into the back alley and then the gate inside, crawled through a small window high above the stairs, passed through the ground with centuries-old beams covered with dust climbed the wooden ladders covered with tons of dung droppings the inscriptions scratched into the plaster passed sometime in the early twentieth century,
when they got up to the dome of the town hall tower, below them the whole city of their childhood, one of them took a dry pigeon's body and dropped it in the middle of the busy middle street below them.
They then returned home after dark.
It was nothing at all.
/From,, Dinner at Minski" /2016/ Year when story happen was...1986./
Read and recorded for You on a top of Swedish Hill in Stonava, Czech republic, yesterday, 10.4.21 Švédský kopec. – Midian Poet
3:46. Djáknin, 20:45.
Lubomír Tomik
sunflower headlights
it does not bode well
does not foretell anything at all
sunflower headlights
the road ends in the mountains
gray clouds
charged to burst
sunflower headlights
sunflower headlights
sunflowers
Read in recorded in the tower of Church in Stonava, Czech republic. 10.4.21, For You.
3:46. Djáknin, 20:45.
Lubomír Tomik
sunflower headlights
it does not bode well
does not foretell anything at all
sunflower headlights
the road ends in the mountains
gray clouds
charged to burst
sunflower headlights
sunflower headlights
sunflowers
Právě zde, čteno pro Tebe.from ,,Mísa vymyšlených ryb.“ Collections of poems / 2017 /
