Štítek: reading poetry

Flared robes. Rozevláté hábity.

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Sakra, stejně je to pro Tebe, je to silnější než já, nedokáži Ti neříct :

Flared robes.

Lubomír Tomik

Ishtar spoke from the other side:

"He is so hopelessly lost in You that even if he did
he won the stray competition and finished first, would get lost on the way to the box
and never,
he would never taste you again. "

Aphrodite did not whisper, Her lips were a skewed seismograph
on the scale of desire, ajar,
with held breath.

skewed
towards destruction

skewed
                            away from me
and so wave,
wave towards the oasis,

                                             my ragged toxin.
Audio recorded now in the twilight , for You, asi už po milionté.
Photo by ENGY NAGUIB on Pexels.com
Rozevláté hábity.

Lubomír Tomik

Ištar pronesla z druhé strany :

,,Je v Tobě tak beznadějně ztracený, že i kdyby
v soutěži zatoulaných vyhrál a skončil první, cestou na bednu by zabloudil
a nikdy,
nikdy  Tě už neochutnal."

Afrodita nešeptala, Její rty byly vychýlený seismograf 
na stupnici touhy, pootevřené,
se zadrženým dechem.

vychýlený 
směrem ke zkáze

vychýlený
                           směrem ode mne
a tedy mávni,
mávni směrem k oáze,

                                            můj rozevlátý toxine.

Sound collage. Zvuková koláž.

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9.5.21,Uherský Ostroh.



Lyrics:


Group.


Lubomír Tomik


The group hallucination took place
fox vaccination,
the cars suddenly had wheels instead
cheesecakes cheesecake cheesecake cakes  from Moravská Nová Ves

The group prayer took place
salt vaccination with pepper,
the cars suddenly had instead of rear-view mirrors
faces of drivers and on their necks
smiled mirrors from ancient India

The group love took place
vaccination of beautiful breasts of smiles and butts,
cars suddenly had hearts instead of engines
one of them was just going on
petrol steam of sheikh sons from Dubai in the elevator,

whether you don't care, whether you want to or not, or you don't care,
and if you stop me like that at any time, stop driving,
get out and please let
ignition keys,
otherwise the engine will not start again. 





Skupinová.


Lubomír Tomik


Skupinová halucinace proběhla
vakcinace lišek,
automobily měly najednou místo kol
tvarohové koláče koláče koláče z Moravské Nové Vsi

Skupinová modlitba proběhla
vakcinace solí pepřem,
automobily měly najednou místo zpětných zrcátek
tváře řidičů a na jejich krcích
usmívala se zrcadla z dávných Indií

Skupinová láska proběhla
vakcinace nádherných ňader úsměvů a zadků,
automobily měly najednou místo motorů srdce
jedno z nich už jelo jen na
benzínové páry šejkových synů z Dubaie ve výtahu,

ať se třeba nezajímáš , ať chceš nebo ne nebo je Ti to jedno
a když tak mne kdykoli zaraz, ukonči jízdu, 
vystup a nechej prosím,
klíče v zapalování,
jinak pak motor znovu nenaskočí.

Lupiči sýra.

Lubomír Tomik


Ráno všude voním Tebou.

proč ostatní 
a na irský čedar a sýr s lanýži
a s divočáky ohrnujícími nos
nad obědem z myšlenek 
a zuřivě se vrhli na mé holeně,
podrazí mi nohy stáhnou mne do prázdna do miliónů jiných věcí než Tebe,
jsi ve stínu hvězd jádrem všeho,

ve stínu hvězd jsi
a rozmarýn a hořký baldachýn nebo ticha perutýn
přinesla jsi mi bolest a já Ti za ni zapomněl poděkovat,

musím : -Děkuji –

milovat Tě je práce na plný úvazek,
hlas nad propastí bez ozvěny,
pokládám pořád dokola hlavu katovi na špalek a
 doufám že jednoho dne zaspí,
jednoho dne mine,
jednoho dne zavrávorá a spadne dozadu
pod náporem strašné váhy
klasického  obouručního zachmuřeného meče.

Lupiči  za sebou zanechali
rozkutálené bochníky sýra,
jako rozjásané chrámové vozy,  neřízené střely.









Cheese robbers.

Lubomír Tomik

In the morning, I smell You everywhere on my body.

why others
and Irish cheddar and truffle cheese
and with wild boars covering their noses
over lunch of thoughts

and they threw themselves on my shins furiously,
my feet tripping me they pull me into space into millions of things other than You,
you are in the shadow of the stars the core of everything,
you are in the shadow of the stars
and rosemary and bitter canopy or silence lionfish

you brought me pain and I forgot to thank you for it,
I have to: -Thank you -

to love you is a full time job,
a voice over the abyss without an echo,
I keep putting the head of the executioner around on a log and
  I hope 
one day he sleeps
one day it passes,
one day he staggers and falls backwards
under the onslaught of terrible weight
classic executioner's two-handed grim sword.

The robbers left behind
rolled loaves of cheese,
like cheering temple of India cars, unguided missiles.

Midas.

dne Publikoval Midian PoetNapsat komentář 
Tohle je článek číslo 3666 a nemůže být jinak než naše číslo a tedy jen pro Tebe, ať už to budeš číst a poslouchat či nikoli


Midas.
Lubomír Tomik

Jak to, že si ráno všechno pamatuješ,
když něžně upadáme do malé smrti každý den,

k čemu jsou kulisy,kamera a herecké výkony,
parnoramatické záběry ve vysokém ….kdyby jsi tady byla serval bych s Tebe šaty a 
zasypal Tě něžností,

Midas v linii zlata jako v téhle přímce bytí vedoucí k Tobě Tobě Tobě,
místo zlata se vše proměnilo v Tebe,
vše,
čeho jsem se myšlenkou jen dotknul.
Read and recorded in Staré Město, Today for You,now.
This is article number 3666 and it cannot be other than our number and therefore only for You, whether You read and listen to it or not


Midas.
Lubomír Tomik

How come You remember everything in the morning,
when we gently fall into little death every day,

what are the scenery, camera and acting performances for,
parnoramatic shots in high…. if You were here I'd rip your clothes off  and
 filled you with tenderness,

Midas in the line of gold as in this line of being leading to You You,
instead of gold, everything has changed in You,
all,
what I just touched on the thought.

Reading ,,Torn from shooting stars.“

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Here, right before two hours, 6.5.21 in Uherské Hradiště.
Torn from shooting stars.

Lubomír Tomik

In the river of the gentle night sky 
You took a bath

neither woman, nor man,

ghost,
wandering in dreams


In the river of the gentle night sky ,
You took a bath

I handed you a  towel of the deep sleep,
it was all torn,
from shooting stars.

Žhnoucí maso Evy…servírované na dva způsoby.

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Yvette Mimieux
Words : L.T , Improvised by D.O. and J.M , in DARKov, 20.4.21 …what happened at time 00:40 was … pure MAGIC 
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...

Read and recorded my poem ,,Žhnoucí maso Evy “ for You here :
The glowing flesh of Eve.
/For You/

Lubomír Tomik

During the mouth opening ritual
you put Eve's meat in me,
the glowing flesh of Eve.

After the monster you sat down and tamed the traces remained in the snow,
you still parked inside,
Scarlet woman with eyes of time,
from the past still staring at me,
wide open,
according to the old magical tradition, I see myself in my counterpart.

I see YOU.

Alchemists walked in
Red robes
Symbol, the wind howling around the banner

Past
Hunger
Intimacy
Lavender
Of fire
Silent ,the words of the order in Artemis
Odysseus in Antarctica
Pour bees fly by the ferry before the flood
Hell ports
Isis of the Wheel
Calendar
Androgyn,

the goal was Everything,
tasted good,
hot meat of Eve.
…behind the church in Orlová

Put him in a shallow grave.

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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

Stufio, ruler of the side streets.

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River Dunaj in Vienna
Stufio, 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.
Soung engineer Pavel Hlavica in Studio Shaark

Soft words about the end.

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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 /

A child from behind the oven.

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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 .
Changeling – Wikipedia

Švédský kopec , Stonava. / Video /

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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.

Humpback whale skeleton.

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Kostra keporkaka.

Read and recorded in Hospital UH 20.3.21

Humpback whale skeleton.

Lubomír Tomik



Moon craters are pushed through the vertebrae,
wonderful appetizers,

holiday in the web You,

You.
Reading on this place.
Night movers / 2019/
Bird in the morning now in Karviná.

If You only knew. Kdyby jsi věděla.

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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

Celkem o nic nešlo. It was nothing at all.

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THE tower in Uherské Hradiště Uherské Hradiště – Wikipedie (wikipedia.org)
Read and Recorded once in Studio Shaark For You , my love.
It was nothing at all.

Lubomír Tomik 

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./

3:46. Djákninn, 20:45.

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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 /

Today is Lucie, December 13th. / Not, i know, in this poem, yes./

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Fourth from left is my daughter, Klára. Photographed 13.12.2019.

Read and recorded once in Studio Shaark For You, my Fate.

Today is Lucie, December 13th.

Lubomír Tomik


today is the feast of Lucy and whoever rises on a chair will see his future
Today is Lucie and she balances stretching out looking out
eyebrows small cute plush pieces of each other
right hand obscuring the sun looking out for your future and
did you see me standing in that chair?
was i anyone else
someone else?

Svátek svaté Lucie – Wikipedie (wikipedia.org)

Studio Shaark
From the ,,Dinner at Minski´s and other poems / 2016 /

Next, please.

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Written, recorded, photographed, loaded and recorded on April 3, 2011 on Masaryk Square in Karviná, for You.

Lyrics in english :

next ,please.


lubomír tomik


breakfaSt nagasaki ages in time, may i ask for a dance ?

Odin waits for the eye to sLip into the pit of the face,
head.

eVe without adam,

                                  thE stray shrapnel.


three grandmothers sitting together by a cave,
sitting at
plucking the feathers of archeopteryx,


galleons moored at the mouths of tropical rivers.

Where is my heart? exclaimed Tikitak.

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Where is my heart? exclaimed Tikitak. / For You / Read 8.4.21 at the Social House in Old DARKov Spa.

Where is my heart? exclaimed Tikitak.

Lubomir Tomik

- Where's my heart? - cried Tikitak,
some hands pushed him onto the catwalk,
Psyche sat in the front row,
primarily
and other models shook and tumbled,
hungry peeking,
but he stood
with his head down.

- Where's my heart? - cried Tikitak,
she turned the key in the ignition,
the engine rumbled,
someone always turning the key in the ignition,
Tikitak clung to the rear bumper with his fingernail,
the car was picking up speed,
he held on
it was about everything
until the gears spilled from his chest along the way, like unused returned coins,
the car disappeared into the distance.

-… -heart? -said the dying Tikitak,
outstretched hand dropped to the ground,
extinguished
and his heart
lay in the back seat of the car,
with which you set out to meet the dawn,
overflowing cup of life.

Tick Tock.
 Gears.
Tick Tock.
 Didn't fit in.
Tick…
Mr. Tikitak.

Smrt knih in DARKov, čtení II.

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Smrt knih.
Written yesterday, read and recorded today, interesting situations when reading in front of the Social House ..., one of several versions, maybe you will like at least one of them. But you know.            / For You / Read 8.4.21 at the Social House in Old DARKov Spa.


Death of books.

Lubomír Tomik

In the case of library fires,
plagues,
conquistadors in unlubricated armor,

enchantingly
You smell a lotus
You are

you won't burn my olfactory cells
you will not cure my sorrow
you shall not put oil in the seams of my armor

You enchanting with a lotus,
You are.

I learned to understand.

The death of books is one thing
we know very well
that the only virus
                          are WORDS

they warm
heals
they tear meat from bones.

In the case of library fires,
plagues,,
conquistadors in unlubricated armor,

You smell enchantingly with a lotus, 


YOU ARE.

In the shadows. / In the L-610 /

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In the shadows. Read and recorded 19.1.21 in KovoSteel Staré Město kovosteel.cz Inside the exposed non-functional aircraft L-610
In the shadows.

In the shadows.



Napsal, pro Tebe, Lubomír Tomik



She took another wet bloody patch of meat,
she rubbed it on both sides with a mixture of pain, desire and confusion,
sea urchins, porcupine needles,
packs craving the smell of prey,
reach into the heart, whisper:

Rusty wolf,
very beautiful
gateway for the defeated,
swaying censer,
photo trigger of my eyes.

Give up darling, tribute to poetics,
because what keeps us alive than our fantasies crumbling to pieces
outlines of reality:

Nothing,
than beauty
nothing but pain
tummy of the thumb passing through the sharpened edge of the razor.

Now,
coast,
coast of mind in flames,
every thought of you is a viking raider waving an ax,
tasting with a ladle from the cauldron of Macbeth’s witches,
a glass of wine from the walled cellars,
love of verses,
thousands of scents of Arabia.




PS LT: In the shadow it is called because a girl who rubs a mixture of thistle and other herbs pieces of raw meat, while depicting a trap for a pack of wolves, stands on the edge of the forest, in the shadow. Even in the shadow of thoughts, trying to separate reality from fantasy, but everything merges into one.
PS LT II: I try to write here in English as well, because I still believe in the possibility that you can take a brief look ,YOU … and because of that I will do my best if it happens.

Večeře u Minského. Dinner at Minski´s.

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Dinner at Minski´s. Read and recorded once for You, in Studio Shaark 

Dinner at Minski´s.

Lubomír Tomik

She put her hand under the table on my thigh, 
still looking in front of her, talking to someone opposite,
I didn't know him.
the burnt meat of an Ethiopian tiger on plates,
 we both observe ourselves in the attitude of Aphrodite,

We watch the sweet asses are presented to the golden rain
I will use seven or eight tablespoons
servants bring on polished trays swallowing in Italian.

She put her hand under the top floor narrowing it down,
 it was a penguin's claw slowly sliding it inside,
 a salivating search inside the chest pressed against the lungs

She ran over the ribs, the grooves of her spine
it vibrated between a fan of air bubbles
there was nothing

suddenly, buch buch buch
not mine came up in the sky,
emerged from a hole in the moon from the veins of blood spewing blood,

stripes of earth in shades of steamed sweater
the clay grave is an indifferent time around
it just fails,

pieces of green flag torn in the morning
walled together in a narrow dream of exorcising the devil

Minski is coming.

Opens his mouth bites pieces of torso ,
asks what it is time ?

impersonal connection caress leaning against the metal wall of the toilet

YOU
EATING ME.

She withdrew her soaked hand I opened my mouth
let everything be scanned,

that real sorrow deep down when it then rushes to the surface tears you to pieces,
feast of worms in the endless footsteps of the goddess of war,
the squeal of little pigs somewhere in the distance
under the sky obsessed with the farting of thunder.

And she covered my eyes with the same palm,
I was just another run
for dinner at Minski´s.








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

Čtení pro Tebe , v jiném státě, V.

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V lázeňském parku v DARKově.
Na druhé straně hranic.
Read and recorded in Poland, for You. From the collections of poems ,,Night movers “ (2019)

Imagine.

Lubomír Tomik

Imagine a person with a mustache like Willam Shakespeare and the face of Satan,

someone moved in next door,
next to the apartment

in the morning you can smell the acid growing through the wall,

someone moved in next door,
next to the apartment,

I hear rats in the morning,
biting through the body.

Pár metrů za hranicí. Krátce poté, co jsem přečetl báseň ,, Představ si “ , když jsem šel do Polska, auto tam nestálo. Když jsem se vracel…drobné náhody přece.

Čtení pro Tebe, v jiném státě IV.

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  • DARKov park.
  • Border stone of the Czech Republic – Poland…and ,,Night movers“
  • Like Jehovah without end…. Yes, Mr. Ginsberg, yes.
  • Other side of the road.
  • Somewhere in time …somewhere in Poland…somewhere in the forest ..for You.
  • And on the road back…DARKov park.
Carfax Abbey Carfax Abbey | Horror Film Wiki | Fandom
Read and recorded For You, from collections of my poems ,,Night Movers“ / 2019 /
Joseph Merrick. Joseph Merrick – Wikipedia
Disappeared time.

Lubomír Tomik

Joseph Merrick peered into the backyard of the alleys at dusk,
 saw a man in a top hat
and tracks in Carfax,

similar to pudding kisses, laid wonderfully quietly,
laid completely  silence, 
stunningly laid on a teak,
as a tapeworm of ideas,
eating whispering.

Merrick disappeared.
Like this.

/ followed by an elegant snapping of the fingers /......

Čtení pro Tebe, v jiném státě III.

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  • Vhodný název pro ulici….Jarní.
  • Směr PL. Do Ráje ještě ne, jedině s Tebou.
  • And there…
  • Its the poem next to Phillips Recorder.
Read and recorded for You, in forest in Poland. Short poem from ,,Night movers “ / colections of poems ,2019 /

A meeting at midnight.

Lubomír Tomik

At a meeting at midnight,
resting moss,

inhales
touches of
Your feet.

Čtení pro Tebe, v jiném státě.

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  • Otevřená cyklostezka Česká republika – Polsko.
  • Hranice.
  • …čtení pro Tebe ,v jiném státě, v Polsku.
Turnip. From the collections of poem ,,Noční stěhováci. “ / 2019 /
Turnip.

Lubomír Tomik

I sent You two hundred years old,
Byron's romantic letter,

maybe I should have stabbed myself in the heart with a knife,

send pieces of the body with a crushed carriage,

with the driver  cracking  whip,

in an envelope with two detectives on  lips.


ADDRESS: 

YOU,
        Deep Lakes.

Article in Motion -seven

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Zámek Fryštát, Karviná 3.4.21.
Další prosím. Next please. Read and recorded for You at Castle Fryštát yesterday at this door.

Next Please.


Lubomír Tomik


breakfaSt nagasaki ages in time, may i ask for a dance ?

Odin waits for the eye to sLip into the pit of the face,
head.

eVe without adam,

                                  thE stray shrapnel.


three grandmothers sitting together by a cave,
sitting at
plucking the feathers of archeopteryx,


galleons moored at the mouths of tropical rivers.








Další , prosím.


Lubomír Tomik


Snídající nagasaki stárne v čase, smím prosit ?

Odin vyčkává až oko vkLouzne do důlku,
Vědoucí.

Eva bez adama,
ten zbloudilý šrapnel.

tři báby sedí spolu u jeskyně,
sedí při
škubání peří archeopteryxe,

galeony, kotvící v ústích tropických řek.










…pokračování…. ještě jinou formou. 

SOLVE appears…suddenly in czech…in english.      Words are virus, not just shit Covid.
Next, please. Další , prosím. Read and recorded by the fountain on the square in Karviná, 3.4.21, for You, right on the picture.

Next, please. Článek za pochodu II.,

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Toto je článek za pochodu, druhá část, kdo ví co bude na konci …je 13.51.

Část II,.

Stejně jako slunce mizelo …

…na zámku Fryštát , Karviná…..během chvíle, aprílové počasí…

…kroupy a sníh.

A za rohem zámku někdo ukřižoval Krista,
znovu,

neměl dnes už dávno,
neměl už ležet v hrobu ?
Socha Ježíše ležícího v hrobě od Gregoria Fernándeze v klášteře sv. Jáchyma a sv. Anny ve Valladolidu
  • První zastávka, čtení , nahrávání ,za zvuků kašny.
  • Druhá zastávka u zámeckých dveří , mezi sochami Ondráše a Juráše, čtení , nahrávání, za sněžení a krup.
…pokračování….pro Tebe, děkuji…jinou formou.

Láska. Love.

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Pro Tebe….a děkuji za dnešní lekci.

Láska.
/ Pro ...  však víš. /

Lubomír Tomik

Láska je barva kterou jsi nalila do černobílého filmu,
znachověla jsi úsměv Bely Lugosiho  šarlatem a
                                                           obalila Nocí jeho pelerínu,
žlutí bílá bělma vlků,
rudá srdce položená do sněhu,

celý svět,
ruka uvnitř hrdla,
třepotání myšlenek, 
filmových rekvizit kdysi černobílého filmu,

uvnitř krku,
spěchem žen, 
hledíš do odlíčené tváře bestie,
 každý den,
zavřené oči milenek,
stírání rosy.

Béla si přitáhne plášť ke karmínovému úsměvu,
rozpoutá šavlový , 
rozpoutá
šavlový tanec očí.








Láska.   Napsáno dnes, čteno a nahráno právě teď, 13.15, v pokoji Rehabilitačního Ústavu DARKov. Dnes jsem dostal lekci, nakládačku od Marciana. 
Nahrávka el.kytary je má, jen tak, z první, minulý rok ve St.Městě.





Love.
/ For ... You know. /

Lubomír Tomik

Love is the color you poured into a black and white film,
you marked Bely Lugosi's smile with scarlet and
                                                                            covered his cape with the Night,
yellow white white wolves,
red heart laid in the snow,

the whole world,
hand inside the throat,
flutter of thoughts,
 props of a once black-and-white film,

inside the neck
women's rush,
you look into the beautified face of the beast,
 daily,
closed eyes of mistresses,
wiping dew.

Béla pulls her cloak to a crimson smile,
unleashes a saber,
unleashes
saber dance of eyes.


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
In the distance a lamp on the shore.

						

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In the distance a lamp on the shore.





V dálce lampa na pobřeží.    

  Napsal Lubomír Tomik .

28.11.2020 , ve svém ateliéru čte Lenka Karhanová / pseud. Magdalena Verneová /










https://www.lenkakarhanova.cz/










In the distance a lamp on the shore.





Written by Lubomír Tomik.





11/28/2020, Lenka Karhanová  / pseud. Magdalena Verneová / reads in Her studio.




















In the distance a lamp on the shore.
/ old navy /


Lubomír Tomik


In the distance a lamp on the shore

johoho

in the distance the lamp is lit.

johoho

through the fog through the heavy rain

johoho

in the distance the lamp is lit.



So rudder twist, old bro

johoho

rudder twist, you're here for it!



When you hear it crackling,

when you hear the curse,

all of us

johoho

all of us

johoho

not here for a long time,

johoho.


















…from the my collections of poem  ,,Dinner at Minski´s “  / 2016 /


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
ALFA.      / Video /

						

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Pro Tebe.

Napsáno 1.4.21 ráno v DARKově. Čteno, nahráno a natočeno ve stejný den u Karvinského moře, nafoceno dnes ve Starých Lázních DARKov.

Sestříháno , zvukově upraveno, dokončeno v DARKově 1.4.21 a …není Aprílem.

Lyrics and complete story behind this video:

https://midianpoet.com/2021/04/01/alfa/


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
The sweetest of You.   To nejsladší z Tebe.

						

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Read and Recorded once in Studio Shaark  FOR YOU.















The sweetest of You.



Lubomítr Tomik


Someone raided the patisserie!

/ BANG BANG /

Desserts run out and people crouch,
under glass hatches
on porcelain trays,

not eating on the plates next to it
unfinished coffee
pierced with forks,


someone raided the patisserie
is that You,

the sweetheart rolls under the oncoming car,
a little further on the ground icing from the pinwheel,
the lady was adamant,

someone raided the patisserie,
he fired five shots into the cream cake
and when  left

 whistled softly under the beard,

/ whistle   whistle /

which he didn't even have.





from ,, The dinner at Minski´s and other poems  / 2016 /


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
The compass needle points North.

						

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The compass needle points North.

/ For Jaskiers /

Lubomír Tomik

The compass needle points North, 
to a place,
to something you can't understand,
no country can hold so much horror,

compass needle points north,
to the place
to something, what sucks the faith out of everything from everyone,
 to something that does not make sense,

compass needle points North,
direction Babí Jar,

Babí jar.










Babi Yar – Wikipedia           Two words …. a password in Wikipedia … but it’s not, it must not be forgotten.





The compass needle points North.   Read and recorded under the bridge, under the remains of Hitler’s highway in the Czech Republic. When I wrote this, I was in Ukraine, as the crow flies about 100 km from Babí Jar.     





Zástřizly, Czech republic. Remains of Hitler’s highway. This year, 2O21. As the dead fell apart in the ground, the concrete torso still stood , after all this years,  a reminder of the pain.


			
					

	




			
				


			
				


			

		

			
Pochodně hoří a zbrojnoši táhnou katapult zad.

						

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Torches are burning and gunmen are pulling the catapult back.


Lubomír Tomik


The torches are burning and the cave continues,
You press your hand against her wall,
in thousands of years, someone will put their modern palm on and feel nothing,

dry double strips of skin
ten fingers wide and almost two meters long,

the torches are burning and the creature is climbing the vertebrae inside,
from the stomach through the heart to her head
where it explodes

torches burning
the other world opens the soul shatters
to all other universes
torches burning
gunmen pull the catapult back.

The walls stretch
as far as the eye can see.

Squeezed pear juice
it drips down from the kitchen counter and that's how it ends.

and like this,
it ends.










Pochodně hoří a zbrojnoši táhnou katapult zad.    Čteno a nahráno ve Studio Shaark pro Tebe, má lásko.










ze sbírky ,,Večeře u Minského a další básně / 2016 /







			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Barriers at the crossing will fall.

						

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Spadnou závory na přejezdu.















Barriers at the crossing will fall.

Lubomír Tomik

the barriers will fall at the crossing,
the moon just shines through the clouds,
cold as a whore's breath

the barriers fall
it's snowing and it's like out of some
stupid Swedish detectives,

the barriers will fall at the crossing
I close my eyes
I feel a stream of air from the ghost of an almost sperm,
 snow breaking through a locomotive,
it's like slow motion in honey,

i
n

h
o
n
e
y


honey





,,Spadnou závory na přejezdu.“   Read and recorded in Studio Shaark once For You ,my Everything.





…ze sbírky Večeře u Minského a jiné básně / 2016 /


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Zkoumání fosilních ryb.

						

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Exploration of fossil fish.  Read and recorded For You, girl , once in Studio Shaark










From the collections of poems ,,Dinner at Minski´s / 2016 /





..and for You :















Exploration of fossil fish.


Lubomír Tomik



Fingers run over stone grooves and protrusions,

he dives in 

and sticks out of the sky in some other world,


under the reflections of those suns.




Under the reflections of other suns.




















Was recorded under shadow of fingers sound engineering Pavel….I’m looking at the day , when I died, before two years,…
and now He agreed with  new visit … this time to a recording studio , not in the darkness of the grave, THE grave, my grave.       In the may, twenty five, yes.


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Under His gray wings.

						

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Under His gray wings.

Lubomír Tomik

Empty dance hall,
was a new dimension of the heart,
under His gray wings,

With a reflection of flickering lights,
 hanging nearby,
waiting for smiles, caresses and touches,
under His gray wings,


floating nights on muddy cobwebs,
elegantly,
like a swarm of circling manta rays,
and your arms,
under His gray wings,


Your eyes Your eyes Your eyes

lighthouses on the coast of desire

Your eyes Your eyes Your eyes

when it is extinguished in the hall,
 they come to life and light up,
under His gray wings.





Under His gray wings.        Written , take a picture, read and recorded For You in DARKov, Karviná, today,my love. It is For You.




















Pod Jeho šedými křídly.

Lubomír Tomik

Prázdný taneční sál,
byl nová dimenze srdce,
pod Jeho šedými křídly,

S odleskem mihotavých světel ,zavěšených opodál,
čekajících na úsměvy, pohlazení a doteky,
pod Jeho šedými křídly,


plovoucí nocí na blanitých pavučinách,
elegantně,
jako rej kroužících mant,
a Tvá náruč,
pod Jeho šedými křídly,

Tvé oči Tvé oči Tvé oči

majáky na pobřeží touhy

Tvé oči Tvé oči Tvé oči

až se v sále zhasne, ožijí a rozzáří se ,
pod Jeho šedými křídly.











			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
I want a kííííííss on the heart.

						

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Read and recorded for You once in Studio Shaark my love.





I want a kííííííss on the heart.


Lubomír Tomik

I want a kííííííss on the heart,
I want him now !

said the transparent Napoleon
and suddenly,
suddenly  flowed down my back in the shower
feeling,

as if someone had suddenly
 began to read this poem

the words appeared
the towers opened fire

I want a kííííííss on the heart!
I want him now!

said the transparent Napoleon
and cat,
that beautiful girl,

 she slipped under a floor full of lubricant.















from the collections of poem ,,Večeře u Minského  / 2016 /





Obraz ,, Kočka Šklíba “  autor Luděk Kouřil.





Open Your Mind.







			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
He was rolling in something and it was like …

						

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Read and recorded For You in  Studio Shaark from ,,Večeře u Minského a další básně “  / 2016 /





He was rolling in something and it was like ...

Lubomír Tomik

It was rolling in something and it was like
if
lama
emerged
from my bathtub
full of foam

lesbian fantasy

and joy came
joy has come

she held my hands
she held my hands

she squeezed them for me
squeezed

and crush the bone

splashes of blood were everywhere

the lights in them shine

like beautiful Libyan desert glass.












			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
End of all words.

						

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Read and recorded right here, in this shelter, in the winter, in the snow, but for You.










End of all words.   Read and recorded For You , 29.1.21 on the frozen Lake of Balaton, Nový Hrozenkov. just while before I saw You with wet hair after showering.





End of all words.

Lubomír Tomik

And for all those centuries,
crowds of oysters risk hugging  mouths
 and burst in,
silky curled lips beams
and barely resistant to The Wild Hunt of the Ghost of Love.

Soon,

hit me,

 squeeze my heart and
               launch a cannonade of words,

                                                   Beauty.










…from the forthcoming collection of poems Map of the Continent of Your Heart, for which the foreword was written by Pavla Jonsson from the band Zuby Nehty and for which Alan Moore approved the use of one of his sentences. 

The one and only Alan Moore.   The dreams come true.         

 All this , For You.


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Moon baby.

						

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Read and recorded For You 19.1.21 ,in exhibit L-610 in the company KovoSteel, Staré Město. From the upcoming collection of poems Map of the Continent of Your Heart, For You my girl.





Moon baby.

Lubomír Tomik.

You step on the right foot, you get up
and goVERnments are falling,

You look in the mirror and the prime ministers are shaking their heads
gunpowder from ancient mistress powder puffs,

A touch of BEAUTY brightens the planet,
months collide and dust
from their rains it will coVER you from head to heel,

to the heel,
BEAUTY
You took the upper hand, i feel.







			
					

	




			
				


			
				


			

		

			
Jehňátko.                                  Lamb.

						

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Lamb.   Jehňátko.





Nafoceno, nakresleno a vytvořeno v Nemocnici UH , Oddělení Rehabilitace, na němž jsem hospitalizován, 20.3.21.
Krátká báseň ,,Jehňátko“ z mé sbírky ,,Noční stěhováci “ /2019/  Čteno a nahráno pro Tebe, kousek od onoho domku v džungli za strašlivého větru.






Pro Tebe.





Photographed, drawn and created in the UH Hospital, Department of Rehabilitation, where I was hospitalized, 20.3.21.
Short poem „Lamb“ from my collection „Night Movers“ / 2019 / Read and recorded for You, not far from that house in the jungle in the terrible wind.






For You.





/ The English text will be added after the premiere of the video, the surprise should not be revealed in advance./


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
My dear, Severin.   / For You. /

						

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My dear, Severin.       Read and recorded in Studio Shaark   once, for You, My Beautiful Girl.










My dear, Severin.  / For You /

Lubomír Tomik


Big beautiful poison spitting cobra
hanging over their heads and
the tips of nine-tailed cats peek from behind a beautiful ass
Wanda von Dunajew.

She nodded to the right hand,
we creep up to Her.

Rub our palms on the ground,
 dig the fibers of carpets into the veins,
 tear off the bellies of the fingers,
sharp nails
for the final succumb.

My dear, Severin
saddle your mare,
tie an obsidian knife to her hoof.

Open my chest,
let the HEART breathe freely,

        through a flood of scarlet.



















From ,, Večeře u Minského “ a další básně / 2016 /










It’s not what it looks like, I just love You every pore of my body, I’m not a masochist … It’s just a strong feeling for You that I still feel …like I’m standing on the shore and You are  the ocean and every thought of You is one wave and I go into the waves, over and over and drown.





When anyone will like the poem, please leave a word in the comments, let’s try to make a poem around the world, ANY ONE WORD, thank you, brothers and sisters, we are all equal, we are all the same…just fantasy in US want out, that’s why we write, we create … because of love, because of LOVE.


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
On the assembly line.

						

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Read and recorded For You in Studio Shaark…once…                                                     Because that’s what I need .                                                                       Install such a new heart, from the moment I met You.





Na montážní lince.  /2016/










On the assembly line.


Lubomír Tomik


A guy was standing on the assembly line,


the body arrived three times an hour , 

hung 

on 

hooks,

stuck

 in

 the

 collarbones.


Stopped in front of him,

He was doing something there,
hands thrown in the chest,

 seemed to be no problem
to mount a brand new heart.

No problem at all.





She is real girl…beatifull… drawn here…by me with a pencil.


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Soft words about the end.

						

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She drawn by me with a pencil.















     Soft words about the end.             Read and recorded For You in Studio Shaark once.





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 so long,
blood drew soft words in the snow
at the end.


Suddenly You're everywhere ... and the story begins.












From the ,, Dinner at Minski´s“   /2016/


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Between the ringing of the snooze alarm.

						

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…we howled together in some city,
the shadows of the mustafs flickered through the alleys immersed in darkness…





Read and recorded for You, totally For You, in Studio Shaark















Between the ringing of the snooze alarm.

Lubomír Tomik

We howled together in some city,
the shadows of the mustafs flickered through the alleys immersed in darkness
and lights in office cubicles,
into which the city was divided,
 threw flashing flashes from the monitors.

We entered a spacious square
and then ,
just before in this reality
the alarm rang,
suddenly a very ugly person appeared
one eye was completely bent to the side
and she laughed
until she grabbed her belly.

You opened your eyes. 
It's high time to get up.


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
All those good old brothers shamans.

						

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All those good old brothers shamans.        Read and recorded in Studio Shaark , for You and and no one else. For You.





All those good old brothers shamans.


Lubomír Tomik

In the moonlight on the lonely pastures of the world surrounded by endless forest,
sits in a circle around the fire,
they sit down and each of them takes  bowl,
in the urine stream of that other man in the following,
everything is hidden.

All the good old brothers shamans ,
kiss
that terrible beauty in a red dress with white  dots and
orange peel,
is suddenly gone,

completely gone

G O N E.







			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Někdo to byl.         It was someone.

						

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Read and recorded For You in Studio Shaark










It was someone.

Lubomír Tomik

It was someone,
someone did it,
he didn't even laugh,
when his bones was
                                counted.

Count his bones,
all his bones,
run your fingers along the edges of the vertebrae,
SKIN up,
                                 beautifully tightens.


It was someone,
someone did it,
he didn't even laugh,
when his bones was
                                 counted.





from ,, Večeře u Minského “  /2016/


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Passport to Magonia.

						

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Studio Shaark










Agobard of Lyon.





Read and recorded in Studio Shaark, Bzenec ..once for You.





I'm going to have to get a passport to Magonia.


Lubomír Tomik


Don't forget:

-Get a passport to Magonia

-Spank
     archbishop
        Agobard's ass

-Look around
          along the square in Lyon,

 just before that,

                          before they stone me.












from the ,, Dinner at Minski´s“ /2016/





and Magonia (mythology) – Wikipedia


			
					

	




			
				


			
				


			

		

			
Ezra.

						

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Read and recorded once for you in Studio Shaark










Ezra.





Ezra is angry.

Lubomír Tomik

Ezra pulled me over the head again
.
It was morning, I got up and everything hurt and now!
Ezra!

...and
all that talk of heartless poetry
,

it is not enough to support the palace of fantasy
bread shoes charming charming demimondena Death?



from ,,Večeře u Minského" /2016/








			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Epitaph of the Gravedigger’s spade.               Epitaf hrobníkova rýče.

						

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Epitaph of the Gravedigger’s spade.   Read and recorded once -in other reality- For You in Studio Shaark





Epitaph of the Gravedigger's spade. 

Here's a spade and I,
 we are One

Here the worm does not cry 
and only bites 

Let the orchard be ,
where it will be obvious 

Here the crosses of the gravedigger grow







Ze sbírky ,,Večeře u Minského …-2016/





Im home from hospital alive….no wood leg, yeah, surgery succeeded, the patient died..and woke up again, teď už Ti rozumím, trvalo mi to dva roky a milion tun bolesti, rozumím.





Thank You All, Sisters and Brothers!


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
It is irrelevant in the sink under the mirror.

						

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Irelevantní.





from the ,,Dinner at Minskí s “ / 2016 /





It is irrelevant in the sink under the mirror.             Read and recorded for You in Studio Shaark





It is irrelevant in the sink under the mirror.
/For my love/

Lubomir Tomik

 In the sink under the mirror,
 pieces of bloodied skin, age from the face

 I sank into the pilot's seat,
 cabin dazzled by white light

 ossified ossified ossified

 soul burned on a trunk,
 animals at least once an hour
 they fall into the river,
 time is irrelevant

 Irrelevant.
 Everything is irrelevant.

 The bite of the inner worm.
 Irrelevant.









			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Her smoke. Její dým.

						

				dne  Publikoval Midian Poetkomentáře 2			

					


		

			

Read and recorded in Studio Shaark for You.










Her smoke.

Lubomír Tomik

 Under the squeak of the moon bitten by a serrating dog,
 in the haze cracks in the clouds,
 She blew Her smoke into me,

 Your smoke.

 My lungs gasified with You,
 every pore of my burnt throat
 he shouted after You,

 I always wanted it.
 I always wanted YOU.









From ,, Dinner at Minski´s  / 2016/


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Přichází Marty Feldman.                                 Marty Feldman is coming.

						

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IN GOD WE TRUST, Marty Feldman, 1980, (c) Universal





Read and recorded in Studio Shaark For You, my love.










Marty Feldman is coming.

Lubomír Tomik

 Marty Feldman with a hand of fame goes to the parking lot of my childhood
 wearing a terrible priestly cassock,
 palms covered with whipped thunder.

 You told me,
 that when there were storms
 you hold someone you love,
 lightning strikes you.





Marty Feldman from "Young Frankenstein". | Marty feldman, Young  frankenstein, Frankenstein





from the ,,Dinner at Minski´s “ / 2016/


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Let’s taste it. Ochutnáme to.

						

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Read and recorded in Studio Shaark   for You , Goddess.





Let's taste it.
/For You /

Lubomír Tomik

 the old seasons are disappearing
 rusty gears of time
 bends in the wind

 it wasn't yesterday
 not tomorrow
the old seasons are disappearing

 I'll wrap you in a shroud
 from faded rose petals

 I sewed them together
 pieces of intestines
 a bone of ribs

 not tomorrow
 not yesterday
 one heartbeat

 the old seasons are disappearing.

 You.





Ze sbírky  ,,Večeře u Minského a jiné básně “  / 2016 /


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
A teď je ten pravý čas na …..Hotel for insects.

						

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From the ,, Dinner at Minski´s “    /2016/










Read and recorded for you my truly love in Studio Shaark





Kvůli použití zvukových efektů prosím doporučuji poslech ve sluchátkách. Due to the use of sound effects, I recommend listening in headphones. A zavřít oči, prosím, vážně…díky and close your eyes,seriously, thanks.





Hotel for insects.

Lubomír Tomik

 I cut       sawdust      boards all over the ground,
 making at the hotel for insects,
 nailing nails avoided thumb injuries,
 blood splashed only kimono

 the back wall was covered with canvas
 used reeds bamboo drilled wood pie
 bag of pine cones all at the hotel for insects

 I sipped from steaming tea with honey and plum brandy,
 it's hardly spring I thought- What the hell am I attracting to a beetle?-

     Colorado beetle of the setting sun?     Meadow horse sadness ?

 I just smiled.










….and this is him, Hotel for insects from poem, right now, after five years …. the same as me …. destroyed, scrapped … still standing … like me …. and what if some bastard hit me with a car in may 2019? What if the government and the authorities took away my money, ID cards, and from tomorrow also the opportunity to be with you in february 2021? Once….  i believe. Once.


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Queue in the supermarket.    Fronta v supermarketu.

						

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Fronta v supermarketu stock fotografie, royalty free Fronta v supermarketu  obrázky | Depositphotos ®





Queue in the supermarket.   Read and recorded for You in 2021 , For You.   I write this in Year 2O16.    Strange.





Queue in the supermarket.

Lubomír Tomik

 the beauty stood there thinking about the people in line in front of her
 there stood a guy thinking about the people in line in front of him
 I was standing there

 I remembered a beauty and a guy telling me what they were doing
 in line at the supermarket

 I remembered it and thought about the people in line in front of me

 On the twentieth day of March, thirteen hundred and forty-five,
 it looked like a sale of plague bacteria.


 Good buy, man.





From  ,, Dinner at Minski´s “  /2016/







			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
The saddest poem of all.

						

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 The saddest poem of all.                     Read and recorded in Studio Shaark for You, my love.





The saddest poem of all.

Lubomir Tomik

 Cute druids fall from the trees,
 when swans take off above the river
 they flutter their wings.

Butts sing in the quiet bays of adolescence,
 ejaculation on wooden piers
 and moaning in the tents,
 the humidity of the saturday nights,
 the taste of the mouth alternating in the evening,

 I stood with a bottle of wine in front of the stage,
 the band was terrible and someone grabbed my shoulder,

 I turned , She suddenly kissing me,
 in the hall I had in my hand Her tongue and breast in mouth,
 outside we leaned against a tree,
 she took off my pants and said after a week: - So, we will continue ? -


 I can't remember Her face.
 





from the Dinner at Minski   /2016/


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Where everything, was the other way around. Tam, kde vše bylo naopak.

						

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I really recommend listening in headphones.










Read and recorded FOR YOU in Studio Shaark, my love.





Where everything was the other way around.
Lubomír Tomik

 In the embrace of Steel Dan,
 strangled with your underwear ,                             perhaps red,
 before the eyes the specter of Mephistopheles     , perhaps tousled by hell,

 Faust's spirit
 raises the veil of smoke

 Faust's house
 will serve my joke

 Faust's breath
 where sulfur tastes

 Faust's spirit
 The universe

 In the embrace of Steel Dan,
 strangled by a red bra,
 in fainting,
 the ghost of Mephistopheles before his eyes,

 the tousled hell hopping
 leaves hoof prints,

 somewhere in Dublin.
 Stephen,
                      somewhere in Dublin.













from the ,, Dinner at Minski´ s“   / 2016 /


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
For all poets…everywhere in the strange, vivid dream in this world now.

						

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V dálce lampa na pobřeží.         In the distance a lamp on the shore.





Články - Spectrasol.cz





In the distance a lamp on the shore.
 / old navy /
Lubomír Tomik
/ old navy/

 in the distance a lamp on the shore
 yohoho
 on the distance the lamp is lit.
 yohoho
 through the fog through the heavy rain
 yohoho
 in the distance the lamp is lit.
 so rudder twist, old bro
 yohoho
 rudder twist, you're here for it!

 when you hear it crackling
 when you hear the curse
 all of us
 yohoho
 all of us
 yohoho
 not for a long time
 yohoho





                                                          Read and recorded in Studio Shaark  For You.





In the distance a lamp on the shore.












			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
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


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Mokrý písek. Wet sand.

						

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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)


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
All the SCENTS of the world.                                                                 Všechny ,,vuně“ světa.

						

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Read and recorded in Studio Shaark





All the SCENTS of the world.

Lubomir Tomik

 The headline in the news reads:
 -All the SCENTS of the world-  ...

 You can imagine the SCENT as beautiful fairies
 on a meadow in the middle of a dense
 coniferous forest,
 in the moonlight he runs there
 they jump from feet to feet
 and
 it looks,
 that they are nice .....bitches 

- Ha! And Gotcha!-

 Smile.

















from the  ,,Dinner at Minski´s /2016/


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
The sullen man.      Ten zasmušilý chlapík.

						

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The sullen man.      Read and recorded For You in   Studio Shaark










The sullen man.

Lubomír Tomik


 Before he lay down under the sign No. 😯
 called some Reynolds
 the soul was winking and was almost on the edge
 before he lay down under the sign No. 😯






For You ….definitely For You… all this….For You.   Edgar Allan Poe - Wikiwand


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
A je TO tady, pomyslel si.     And here IT is, he thought.

						

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And here it is, he thought.             Read and recorded for You, in Studio Shaark





And here it is, he thought.

Lubomír Tomik

 And here it is he thought,
 it was like a whiplash,
 creaking skin,
 blinding light,

 the bow passes over the remnants of the silhouettes of the pig casings

 Her hips curl,
 she tasted all that,
 young heart,

 young with a gnaw of darkness.

 And here it is he thought,
 it's here and he felt her teeth pierce his flesh.


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Investigation of heart loss.                              Ideální Valentýnský dárek pro Tebe.

						

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Vyšetřování ztráty srdce. čteno a nahráno pro Tebe, 6.1.21 na hradě Malenovice.





Investigation of heart loss.

 Lubomír Tomik

 / for You, written at midnight /

 Soviet intelligence giggles,
 they have casual pirate bambitas at the waist,
 under the unbuttoned corsets,
 in the glow of the gas lamps,
 the plans are forging.

 In the room a wall, made of brick plaster,
 be cruelly sincere to me, 
I want you to hear my words, without napkins:

 You are again and again,
 the one who seduces me,
 i never loved more,
 than You.






Read and recorded right here, in the armory of the castle, with the consent of the wonderful incredible castellan…    

It’s the perfect Valentine’s gift.


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Read and recorded for You in the snow, on the frozen Lake Balaton….Covered in leaves.

						

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Covered in leaves.

 Lubomír Tomik

 Covered in leaves,
 covered with a clever stingray,
 in green leaves,
 sleepy.

 Until the caravans go astray,
 until the sand
 does not stain with blood,
 drops of sea, salt, sweat,

 Your tongue,
 is on their tracks.

 In the fallen leaf,
 her body
 withered,,
 beautified.





Covered in leaves. Read and recorded for You in the snow, on the frozen Lake Balaton in Nový Hrozenkov, 29.1.21










V listí zalitá.

 Lubomír Tomik

 V listí zalitá,
 vychytralou trnuchou přikrytá,
 v zeleném listí,
 ospalá.

 Dokud neodejdou karavany běd,
 dokud se písek,
 nezbarví krví,
 kapky moře, soli, potu,

 Tvůj jazyk,
 je jim na stopách.

V opadaném listí,
 její tělo,
 uschlo,
 zkrásnělo.


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
From Saturday night on the sailboat „Hope“ until now

						

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UP THE BOARD





Lásko , včera … – Midian Poet





 …UP ON BOARD



 Up on board.

 Lubomír Tomik


 Up on board.

 Hope ….let dive flight into the abyss, into the pillow of your arms,
 feathers, the ship sailed out of port,

 Life …dance on the surface of boiling milk foam,
 enthusiasm for not being nailed to the deck with nine-inch nails,
 as if it weren't,

 at night the creaking masts, the naughty sails
 and unbridled steering wheel rotation,

 Hope… stretching under the hernia,
 where instead of snoring villas and alien monsters
 you hug,

 I saw a fortune teller,
 Cassandra, Pythia and Sybil,
 in their free time, the soap bubbles of dreams,
 wishes and desires pierced the needles in their white fingers,
 -Sybila -PLOP, Pythie-PLOP, Kasandra-PLOP, -
 childish antics,
                                                            slices of passion.

 We haven't lost a course,
 only the country disappeared in the distance, 
in the rampage of the virus,
 the writhing of politicians somewhere in the fog,
 disappeared in the reflection on your face,
 in tears.

 Hope … but there is no clinking of glasses in the governor's palace,
 it's the toil of dock workers with muscle braids like ship's ropes,

 it is a lotus flower growing from a muddy bottom that opens above the surface of light to the colors of You,
 it's bouncing on shark heads spinning in an endless circle below the board,
 on which We walk,
 sweet scurvy.

 Hope is brighter than thousands of suns,
 leads me to You.

 The crew escaped on lifeboats,
 We are waiting in the stern cabin,
 huddled together.

 The wind does not end,

 up on board

 set faces in the sun

 up on board

 let the ship's bell ring,

 set faces Hope

 up on board.


 Lets go-
 bolder,
 tougher,
 more abundantly,
 flawlessly,

 just LET'S GO !!!




Written and completed 6.2.21 in the stern cabin, on the ship ,,Hope", under the lighthouse… read 9.2.21, in the Old Town.







			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Beauty.Krása.

						

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Beauty.

 Lubomír Tomik

 And when he wrote to Her at midnight, 
he was a Turkish messenger to a castle, a castle, a castle,
 arrow and steel tip, 

the message roll unfolded like a black rose bud,

 the princess threw herself into the river 
and changed everything with her gaze,
 during which steam boilers exploded the hearts of skyscrapers lounging on a summer lavender meadow,

 i wasn't good enough for You 

... was not.







Beauty. Krása. 
Recorded 6.2.21, on Saturday night, for You, in the cabin at the stern of the sailboat Hope, along the lighthouse, where the windows in the photo is lit. For You … I know I’m not good enough, I know.





Krása.

 Lubomír Tomik

 A když jí o půlnoci psal,
 byl to turecký posel do hradu, hradu , hradu,
 šíp a ocelový hrot.

 Rolička zprávy se rozvinula jako poupě černé růže.

 Princezna se vrhla do řeky
 a změnila všechno svým pohledem,
 při kterém explodovaly parní kotle srdce mrakodrapů lenošících na letní levandulové louce.

 Nebyl jsem pro Tebe dost dobrý…

 nebyl.







			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Všechny Tvé střevíce.

						

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Všechny Tvé střevíce.

 Lubomír Tomik

 Noční šapitó,
 opuštěné a tiché,
 protancuješ v něm všechny své střevíce.




All your shoes.

 Lubomír Tomik

 Night tent,
 abandoned and quiet
 you dance all your shoes in it.








Pro Tebe, právě teď….na lodi Naděje, v kajutě na zádi.





PS: A zvuk na závěr, oznámení …právě mi přišla zpráva, přesně v okamžiku, kdy jsem dočetl. Stává se mi to, skoro pokaždé, že se na diktafon nahraje něco zcela nečekaného.


			
					

	




			
				


			
				


			

		

			
Caliban and Sycorax.

						

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Caliban and Sycorax.










Caliban and Sycorax.





Lubomír Tomik





What did you lock my love, in the drawer of your memory?
Lovely moments, laughter and tenderness,
early cold
and I …





can’t understand,
                    I can’t do that.















From the upcoming collection of poems Map of the Continent of Your Heart, read and recorded on January 19, 21 in KovoSteel Staré Město, www.kovozoo.cz, in the exhibit of the L-610 aircraft, which was only ours, mine and Yours for an hour.










Kalibán a Sycorax.

 Lubomír Tomik

 Co jsi má lásko, zamkla v šuplíku své paměti ?
 Líbezné chvíle, smích i něhu,
 brzký chlad
                        a já …
 pochopit,
                  to nedovedu.





Z chystané sbírky básní Mapa kontinentu Tvého srdce, čte a nahráno 19.1.21 v KovoSteelu Staré Město, www.kovozoo.cz , v exponátu letadla L-610,  které bylo díky vstřícnému přístupu ze strany firmy , na hodinu jen naše, mé a Tvé.


PS: Honey, I'm publishing this article for you at 2 hours 2 minutes 22. seconds  2.2.2021...


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Jejím sestrám.           To Her sisters.

						

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Jejím sestrám.    Čteno a nahráno pro Tebe , u zasněženého a zamrzlého Balatonu v Novém Hrozenkově 29.1.21.                                          To her sisters.      Read and recorded for You, at the snowy and frozen Lake Balaton in Nový Hrozenkov 29.1.21.















Jejím sestrám.

 Lubomír Tomik

 zápach vlečných sítí ze spleti ocelových lan,
 rzí vzpomínek,
 obroušený vlnolam,

 když nádherná vystoupila z přílivu, šaty z mořských řas,
 zanechány, na okrasu Jejím sestrám.


 ze sbírky Veronica a jiné básně / 2018/







To Her sisters

 Lubomír Tomik

 the smell of steel wire rope trawls,
 rust of memories,
 ground breakwater,

 when the beautiful rose from the tide,
 the seaweed dress left,
 to adorn Her sisters.



 from the collection of Veronica and other poems / 2018 /

The State of Mediterranean and Black Sea Fisheries 2018







			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Kostým Tebe. Costume of You.

						

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Čteno pro Tebe 29.1.21 na  Balatonu v Novém Hrozenkově…..Read for you on January 29, 21,  Lake Balaton in Nový Hrozenkov.





Costume of You. Kostým Tebe.





Costume of You.

 Lubomír Tomik

 the spade rang against a rock
 you winced nervously in your sleep
 charred eyes hidden for worse times,

 the spade rumbled against the oak wood
 the caravan of the body got lost in deception
 the spade scraped the remnants of the skin and
 I lie down,

 I lie down under a lonely tree in the fields,
 I'll put it on,
 I'll put on a costume of You.






From the collection of poems Bowl of Fictional Fish / 2016 /






Kostým Tebe.


 Lubomír Tomik

 rýč zazvonil o kámen
 nervózně jsi sebou trhla ve spaní
 ohořelé oči schované na horší časy

 rýč zaduněl o dubové dřevo
 karavana těla zabloudila v mámení
 rýč seškrábnul zbytky kůže a
 ulehnu,

 ulehnu pod osamělý  strom v polích
 navléknu
 navléknu si kostým Tebe.


























			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
Kráčím dny.

						

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Kráčím dny.     Čteno pro Tebe, 29.1.2021, Balaton, Nový Hrozenkov. 










I’m walking for days.






Lubomír Tomik





The night lost its meaning.





I can take off,
i can fall,
facing the ground,






I’ll get up again,
again
again
again
again,





I lost the thread
in the middle of a maze,
The Minotauros begin to whine,
i won’t let him down





I will not let YOU down.





MINOTAUR (Minotauros) - Bull-Headed Man of Greek Mythology





Kráčím dny.

 Lubomír Tomik

 Noc ztratila smysl.

 Můžu vzlétnout 
 můžu padnout ,
 tváří k zemi,
 znovu vstanu,

 znovu
 znovu
 znovu
 znovu,

 ztratil jsem nit,
 uprostřed bludiště,
 Minotauros začíná funět,
 nezklamu ho,

 nezklamu Tě.


			
					

	




			
				


			

		

			
,,Time struck with his hands.“     a poem read in a moving train, yesterday, for You.

						

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Odbíjel rukama čas.          Pro Tebe.










I read on this line Staré Město – Uherské Hradiště from my collection of poems Večeře u Minského / 2016 /










Time struck with his hands.





Lubomír Tomik





„He was looking right in front of him,
he made a soft buzzing sound
and time struck with his hands. „





How I would like to take bus
and he saw you beating  time with your hands.





Whipping sea onions can begin!





Behind the train windows while reading … I took pictures on the way back …










Odbíjel rukama čas.





Lubomír Tomik





,,Díval se přímo před sebe,
vydával tichý bzučivý zvuk
a odbíjel rukama čas.“





Jak rád bych jel tím autobusem
a viděl Tě jak odbíjíš rukama čas.





Mrskání mořskými cibulemi může začít!