Scarlet Beast.

Fotografie od Jirzo_ nez na Pexels.com

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Pro Tebe, vítej u Iskanderovy hrobky, jako hudební doprovod v pozadí hraje instrumentální skladba Waltari ,,Completely alone“ , nejsem majitelem autorských práv, přemýšlel jsem jaká hudba by byla pro slova vhodná a z paměti se vynořila ,,Completely alone“, ano.

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Iskanderova hrobka.

Lubomír Tomik

pokryj slídou všechny pyramidy světa
pokryj slídou ženská těla v roztoku,
Bohyně

postůj v myšlenkách před Iskanderovou hrobkou,
doufáš , 
že je skutečná,

šarlatová šelma


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Iskander's tomb.

Lubomír Tomik

cover all the pyramids of the world with mica
cover the woman's body in solution,
Goddess

stand in front of Iskander's tomb,
you hope
that she is real

scarlet beast

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,,Kolo štěstí " je karta Crowleyho Tarotu , byla na začátku, otočil jsem ji a napsal tato slova a četl je ve Studiu Midian a všechno pro Tebe.
 Zajímavé, docela jsi mne překvapila. 

https://probud.se/tarot1/crowleyho-tarot/velka-arkana/982-crowleyho-tarot-10-kolo-tsti

Jen audio a slovo bez fotografií…protože,

už druhý den nefunguje ono vyhlášené 5G připojení, rychlost závratná není, spíše naopak, nejede vůbec.

Je rok 2022,něco je jak ze špatné sci-fi, na druhou stranu je válka, pandemie, nejsi Ty , jediné vysvětlení možné- stále v komatu, na přístrojích, slyším jen Tvůj hlas a píši a říkám slova ve Studiu Midian ,s přebustrovanou kytarou a hučícím zesilovačem, jen prostě teď myslím na Tebe a –




Zbytkv dřevěného uhlí.

Lubomír Tomik

nepatrné zbytky svitků opálených v rozích,
svinutých do ruliček

okultisté leští světla lamp za svitů černých svící
alchymisté přicházejí o uši ve svitu plynových lamp

ve dvorech ženy a muži,
,,Necítím Tě"

jestli je Ona i ráj
                      je i had v něm

Elektrickou energií
Vymazala mne
Apokalypticky

s úsměvem,
který jsem jí chtěl vrátit jako vždycky,
navždy

v Hádu hada,
kousnul nás oba,
jen Ty to nevíš,
spanilá
na loži z růži




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The remnants of charcoal.

Lubomír Tomik

slight remnants of tanned coils in the corners,
rolled into rolls

occultists polish lamp lights under the lights of black candles
alchemists lose their ears in the glow of gas lamps

in the courts of women and men,
"I don't feel you"

if she is also paradise
                       there is also a serpent in it

Electricity
She deleted me
Apocalyptic

with a smile,
which I wanted to return to her as always,
forever

in the Hades of the Serpent,
he bit us both,
only you don't know
beatiful
on a bed of roses 

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Poet Video pro ženy ,,Kolo Slunce“…

…mají dnes svátek.

Kolo Slunce.

Lubomír Tomik

kolo slunce,
na obloze každý den se valí,
rozmačká nás ,
je to úžasné ,
a zase se vzdálí

znovu do něj vpleten, vpletena,
na Noren vřetena,

sladkým času medem potřena,
medem,
nejsladším


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Wheel of the Sun.

Lubomír Tomik

wheel of the sun,
the sky is rolling every day,
crushes us
it’s amazing ,
and walks away again

entwined in it again, entwined,
on Noren spindles,

smeared with sweet time honey,
honey,
the sweetest

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Karta na publikaci svátečního videa pro všechny ženy, z nichž budu mít smrt je….jistě se to dá vysvětlit, všichni ti ,,Mágové“.

Žlutá temperová barva, bez štětce. Tužka , formát A4.

Čtení ,brnkání, výstřely na pláži ,,A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou“ Kapitola čtyřicet !

Deja Vuuuuuuuuuu v kaaaartě Crowleyho Tarotu ,,Aeon“

Fotografie od Pixabay na Pexels.com

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And I held astronaut Peters in my hand. Chapter 40!

Chapter Forty!

For now, our expedition….

Disappointed noise in a vast universe full of myriad galaxies.
-Still west. Still in that direction. Tata Iwi.-I’ll say.-
William, Bobby and Suzanne nod.
-This is the right time. Illusion doesn’t hurt. It only hurts faith in it.-
William preceded us and, with the feeling of a forgotten little man somewhere downstairs, waves at us and shouts – Hola hou !!!! –
The former flight attendant also faded.

At the dawn of time, the whole world was empty – the first morning the creature wrote what the dawn of the last day would read.
Clouds fly fast, but aliphatic fire hydrocarbons can still be seen in the distance.
The sea rustles from the darkness, the wind rises, the storm approaches, the sand swirls around, in the distance the darkness is interwoven with the forks of lightning, I want to freeze this moment, to keep it in my memory. Lovecraft on the dark Italian coast during a storm.

Bobby bites the hamburger around and catches ketchup and mustard with his tongue, always a fraction of a second before it lands on her tie. But that’s a nimble tongue. He could do things!

Something suddenly gripped me and I was thrown into space-time vortices. I flew through history, rushed through the sky in a staccato of lightning, and civilizations were bleeding below me.
I was here. Faces battered by time, Imaginary Shotgun aimed directly at Mr. Marek, slightly crouched, legs nailed to the ground to catch the recoil of the shot.
-Ha !- said Mr. Marek.
I didn’t expect anything and pulled the trigger lightly.
I missed.
The blonde slid to the ground. She held her left hip with both hands, and the sound that echoed the shot sounded hoarse.
I lost a few seconds looking at the blonde rolling in pain on the ground. I couldn’t do otherwise. Something in her eyes…
Something in them kept me awake.
She denied them to me.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a movement — Mr. Marek running, fleeing, and escaping me again and again — but I forgot about it. For one second, for something in the woman’s eyes.
There was something.
-Kaaa… gaaa.-she got out of her throat. Suddenly I had deja-vu.


I approached her. Carefully.
-Kaaaa -.-she tried to speak again.
A trickle of blood ran down her throat. I leaned over and looked in her eyes for what was coming.
-Kaaa… .is it’s you? / Can a dying person distinguish between poking and howling, I mean capital letters, this is a fantasy, this is not real, is it? / -Kaaaaa-….
-Íííííííí- there was a sound so low in her throat that I had to plug my ears. I dropped my handgun to the ground. She fell quietly into the grass.
The skin on her neck began to stretch. She tensed with unknown force, her veins, capillaries, muscles cracked, her head began to separate from her body.
When she finally rose to the top.

-Kate – Kate !!! – I shouted.
It hovered about two meters above me. I grabbed the Imaginary Shorgun and headed for all the future.
Kate-Kate stood still and grinned.
-Rusts of rust and mittens,- „he said.
I fired, the bullet flew out of the barrel, the cylindrical shape aimed directly at the face of the strangeness.
Suddenly, Kate-Kate’s mouth spread across her face, opened, and the projectile disappeared inside.
Kate-Kate flew in which Mr. Marek was fleeing.
I saw the red. Again.

In her shop, Miss Růžena Rybízová stared at the stove. The observed water does not boil. It lay quietly and dead at the bottom of the pot.
Mr. Marek’s quick steps.
Broken breath.
Atmospherics.


-We are sending an extraordinary message. Citizens of the Earth! We are sending an extraordinary… –
Cracking in the ether.
-… right. Extraordinary dreams have appeared! … .Citizens of the Earth! Citizens of the Earth! Here is….-


I went after him.

End of chapter forty.

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Karta je Aeon .

End of chapter forty.

Karta je Aeon

End of chapter forty a karta je Aeon.

https://probud.se/tarot1/crowleyho-tarot/velka-arkana/1000-crowleyho-tarot-20-aeon

Nahráno ve Studiu Midian. El.kytara, zvuk přílivu přehrávaný ,současně při čtení, z archivu BBC ,konkrétně,, Seawash: Sea Breaking On Shore – Seawash: Sea breaking on shore, close perspective“, některé chyby vznikly při úpravě hlasitosti, čtení, brnkání, nahrávání, překladu, je to ale OPRAVDOVÝ záznam jednoho TEĎ!

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teďteďteďteďteďteďteďteďTEĎ!

Páteční čtení dopisu určeném poručíku Goškevičovi. ,, A za ruku jsem držel astronautku Petersovou“ Kapitola 22.

Fotografie od Burst na Pexels.com

Napsáno více jak před deseti lety, shoda jmen událostí příjmení a skutků je náhodná, nebo je to klasická synchronicita. Také publikace zrovna dopisu poručíkovi Goškevičovi, Rusovi, je náhodná,je to část příběhu, na tento dopis v jiné kapitole následuje odpověď. Jsem PROTI jakékoli válce kdekoli, na Ukrajině zvlášť , Bohdane, držím Ti palce !

Chapter 22.
And I held astronaut Peters by the hand.

Lubomír Tomik

Chapter Twenty-two.

Letter addressed to Lieutenant Osip Goshevich.

January. London.

Dear friend !!!!
I will take advantage of the visit of one of my former maids, who is less blunt than the maids I have now, and I will ask her to deliver these few lines to you.
Please excuse the inconsistency of this letter, its fragmentation and stylistic shortcomings. It's weird, I know, it's the same as my head, I'm so confused about it. Plus, I'm in a bad mood today.
Hardly in any other nation is there as much general beauty as in England. Do not judge the beauty of the English, according to the red-haired gentlemen and ladies who desert from England under the name of captains, engineers, teachers and educators - these are rubbish, a pretty woman does not have to run away from England, beauty is capital.
It is said that English women are distinguished by the size of their feet, I do not know if this is true. It seems to me that this is partly a prejudice, mainly because no other women show off their feet like English women. As they cross the muddy street, they lift their skirts so high that they provide the perfect opportunity to see their feet.
The English women are mostly tall, slender, but a little proud and calm — in the words of many connoisseurs, even cold. Coldly!!!
The color of the eyes and hair is extremely diverse - some are perfect brunettes, but they are also extraordinarily white and have a bright, beautiful blush.
Whenever I see a pretty English woman, it seems to me that I see Captain Kopejkin.

Because I lived as a traveler in hotels, I had few opportunities to observe women closely, except for housewives in inns, saleswomen in shops, and so on. These two maids run around me like two mail horses, repeating murderously to my every word like magpies: -Yes, Sir… .No, Sir… -


But why these words, my dear… where have I sharpened it? What am I describing?
Of course, I saw how callously you rejected my suggestions that my crazy passion put into my previous writings, I heard your confessions that you have secrets in front of me that I am not worthy to know… Fifteen years later I am writing for you and it is a fact , you told me I'd know right now, I'm on fire, I'm on fire, tell me.
You should rejoice and be proud, for the absolute power you have over me, over my will, must fill you with pride. Who you are? What kind of power is that? Who gave it to you? You are not human… no… in my eyes, no! You are the Angel of my Destiny!


Copies and women's blouses have always made me sad.
I always finish writing more tenderly than I should, and you, ungrateful, are abusing my tenderness and doing what you like and not what I want.
Goodbye,
don't be lazy and come see your friend…


Still passionately, the days do not take away from the passion, on the contrary, more and more passionately,

all your…
Your Captain

Post scriptum: The general impression of the appearance of London and its population is strange, two million people live here, London is a center of world trade and guess what is not visible on it?
Life-actually its tumultuous boiling. Trade is seen, but there is no life, otherwise you must conclude that trade is life here, as it really is. Life here… does not strike your eyes.
There is a relative silence, all actions are somehow quiet, serious. Apart from the inevitable noise caused by horses and carriage wheels, almost nothing else can be heard. The city seems to be holding its breath and pounding its pulse as a living being. There is no needless shouting and no need for movement. Everything seems to be budgeted, weighed, and valued, as if voice and facial expressions were paid for just as much as windows and rims on wheels.
Adios and goodbye, yes? Goodbye Goodbye Goodbye. And now remember for a moment that even in your disobedience, Yours too loves You.
Oh, a ton of delights when my mind wanders to You….

End of chapter twenty-two. 
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Karta Crowleyho Tarotu na publikaci  slov, určených ruskému poručíku, ať se všem ruským vojáků líbí nohy kapitána Kopejkina je...


https://probud.se/tarot1/crowleyho-tarot/mince/1046-crowleyho-tarot-mala-arkana-trojka-disk

Poet Video pro Tebe ,,Mokrý písek“

Ze sbírky ,,Večeře u Minského a jiné básně " /2016/ čteno a nahráno na jaře 2016 ve Studiu Shaark , Bzenec http://www.shaark.cz/
Záběry natočil P.L. , chodník před kostelem Sv.Vavřince v Hluku.
lyrics:

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 punishment.

 The water rises higher,
   just keeps everything to himself,
 locks his stash.

 Girl, woman, old woman,
 the curtain is now torn down.

 O,
 the Great Unknown.

Would you be safe,
if I wasn't here .


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Karta Crowleyho Tarotu na publikaci slov už tehdy , v roce 2016, psaných pro Tebe...a pěti letech jsem stále tedy...úžasné....a karta je - Luna.
Crowley - 18 - mesic
https://probud.se/tarot1/crowleyho-tarot/velka-arkana/998-crowleyho-tarot-18-msic

karta karmy, slovo karma znamená „práce, která musí být udělána“.  Svou volbou mohu změnit svou zkušenost.

http://www.shaark.cz/

Poet Video : ,, Střední část dne silný vítr. “ / Pro Tebe a Emelii /

Čteno pro Tebe 21.8.21 v Opavě u hrobu Petra Bezruče, fotografie a video pořízeny P.L. 25.9.21 ve Starém Městě.
Lyrics:
Strong wind in the middle of the day.

/ to Emelia /

Lubomír Tomik

strong wind in the middle of the day,
occasional supplies of drinking water,
women,
women,
women
with mirrored glasses,
flashes in the kaleidoscope,

strong wind in the middle of the day,
everything is for sale,
it does not take place
it does not take place
it does not take place
sale

someone,

someone sent a seller for the right accessories of elegance


You whisper the thousandth first story of Scheherazade.

https://midianpoet.com/2021/08/17/stredni-cast-dne-silny-vitr-pro-emelii/
https://cs.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petr_Bezru%C4%8D

Poet video : Počet budoucích dní.

Napsáno, čteno a natočeno pro Tebe  na Baťově Mrakodrapu ve Zlíně.
Lyrics:

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Number of future days.

Lubomír Tomik

in rose oil You are rather Holy,
than a woman

with You we can always discover something new in this cosmos,
galaxies,
star cluster,
nebula,
glowing
in the shape of the constellation Medusa

number of future stone days,

kiss the saint
all plots,

my favourite,
midnight mail for you years ago,

Lord Byron's love correspondence,

We lived it,
i live it,
You ?

every square millimeter of your skin
is a landing area for the return from just discovered stars,
in the constellation Medusa.

Stone is Stone is Stone.



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Hudba použita z Archivu BBC , zvukové nahrávky pro neziskové účely, zpěv japonských žen z kmene Ainu,  ...kamerunský tanec a šaman při jelením tanci chřestí kostmi.

Jarní bůh.

Fotografie od Yaroslav Shuraev na Pexels.com
Spring god.

Lubomír Tomik

the spring god caught his second breath

spring breath was exposed to the burning radiation of You

the spring god could and wanted to change a little more than just words

the spring god set his own trap

the spring god raised a white fist

the spring god disappeared in the rainforest,
when the wood merged with the sand,
October 12, 1492

the spring god bowed down and left the arena,
spring breath,
cabaret.

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Jarní bůh.

Lubomír Tomik


jarní bůh chytil druhý dech

jarní dech byl vystaven spalující radiaci Tebe

jarní bůh mohl  a chtěl změnit trochu více než jen slova

jarní bůh nastražil vlastní past

jarní bůh pozvednul belostnú päsť

jarní bůh zmizel v pralese,
když se dřevo spojilo s pískem,
12. října 1492,

jarní bůh se uklonil a opustil manéž,
jarní dech,
kabaret.