Carmina Juvenalia

For the great gig of Emperor Nero

[adorebus]

September's haikus

Goodbye

Leaving by August

take the white kitten with you -

I will remember.

Kiku no sekku 

(Chrysantemum festival) 

Chrysanthemum blooms -

take care of your happiness

with a cotton ball.

Jugoya

(the harvest moon) 

Night of the full moon

let's drink sake and talk like wind -

portrait of a lady.

Momijigari

(hunt for red leaves) 

We walk together -

along the road turned red

from dyeing maple trees. 

[adorebus]

Goodbye grandfather

You can't learn too well to lay down and die,

no one asks to learn dark things left aside.

Yet snowflakes too soon lent from the grim sky

fall at me, weave their crystal arms like died.

Though have divided the needs for strict life

as famine as fame, family as dear friends

- indeed he rests now in a small room rife

with little to have known and lesser to wends;

my mother's father like all son of men

Has dwelled back at the sapling of youth,

thus grown what was just black mud back again

an old oak tree of twisted lies untruth.

While my soggy preach will not meet you up there,

I will trust heaven has thy golden stare.

[adorebus]

To all broken men and women out there

Shall not fear imps that stand abrupt in light,

the fake lamps' glimpse which does not burn like sun,

those people which stand by hand till dawn breaks bright.

Because softly my gloomy hour leaves at sight

and better days will have chance at shine, one

shall not fear imps that stand abrupt in light.

Although I'm not allowed to know your fight

there's sign that pain at last will be undone:

those people which stand by hand till dawn breaks bright.

Brave men, long time by, have buried the Knight

while other statues may have grown, my son

shall not fear imps that stand abrupt in light.

With good in hearts many will come to know fright

but for we met the very lands, we won't shun

those people which stand by hand till dawn breaks bright;

and here we are now dancing to this night,

pure light be lit when once again we've won.

Shall not fear imps that stand abrupt in light

those people which stand by hand till dawn breaks bright.

[adorebus]

A collection of small tanka poems exchanged by secret lovers

#1

Check the dormouse's lair

there's a pillow in room

plenty for two of us

even stars get trough the night

and cherry trees get trough spring.

#2

Made the walk yesterday

parfume of incense and tea

ain't used to it

the bird defies the chaindoor

and I must bring a peony too.

#3

Cold gets me to sleep

days got colder by long time

ain't sleepy at all

the old fox has returned

a strange looking umbrella.

#4

Out of my window

pink falling leaves on grass

the rain pouring fast

in the middle of the stairs

lost the summers yet to come.

[adorebus]

Haikus for the thoughtful

#1

Anemones bloom

grass has followed the cold winds.

Swallows have to leave.

#2

Moon's closer than ever

I can reach her with bare hands.

Cicadas cry.

#3

Up the sacred hill

all I can see I can't touch,

thy sagging eyelids.

#4

Blizzard in my coffe:

I wasn't alone this morning

with stars over me.

#5

By living out of writing

you won't ever read

in solitude - love!

#6

The cloud blows afar.

Too bad that I'm a free bee

my flower is there.

[adorebus]

Shadenfreude

The Jew, look forth, he slipped on the floor:

the fair joy's dark, touches my inner strings

and purest words they fluently speak german gore

together they bath evil and twisted art.

I feel I could do bad no less than tart

drinks, razor sharp proverbs and made up drama

-of course I don't, I will not take any part

in it - oh, you feel it kinda soothing, yes?

At times you try hard and maybe you'll impress

but when troubles strike, people talk and you regret

still, find them on Rue Shadenfreude, where distress

calls are always on your back ready to ruin.

- there're days in year we most are genuine

and least to be human that's not big deal,

during elections when it is to shin

a tree, and you are to be fooled little more.

The Jew, look forth, he slipped on the floor:

the fair joy's dark, touches my inner strings

and purest words they fluently speak german gore

together they bath evil and twisted art. 

[adorebus]

Picture of yourself at night, while heading back to home and thinking of your imaginary penthouse suit in the 80''.

At one

the clock 

strikes dark 

the howling night 

ought to buy 

water bottles 

slurpees 

and fresh mints;

driving forth 

nor I am lone

nor alright. 

A breeze moves

me

as lights 

have grown afar, 

lights and neons

blazing

like a fat old star. 

Pale people 

paler be the day 

inhabit the streets 

while 

the living 

longs 

to those rich Chads

awoke

to play cards. 

I used to store 

as days 

as postcards, 

an old 

future too

which could 

never get 

past. 

But now 

I feel so

insecure 

at trusting 

dreams 

no one 

should ever had. 

Better 

to have known

rather 

than living

for seasons

I can't have:

one of

this nights

dawn cracks twice

for lights 

sold 

at free price. 

[adorebus]

Tea-volution devolution

Oh, I drink lots of tea

while animals not

at all

Im a free animal

though

some kind

of joy

is measured

in tears

and years

consumed by tea

so did Boston know

until I left with thee

charade

doing it

again

I'm ready to sail

away

but I'm not ready

to leave

I cast a stack

in the dark sea

isn't it a drink

we drank today

expect

to escape

but proclaims

I won't

the silver mile

drives suspects

mother

and lover

when

I found

someone living

he was not

my father.

[adorebus]

A package leaflet for Drugs

One is two

And two is three,

Ophelia

and Zimmerman

approximately

sit at the table

with time being

the fourteenth sable

night of Nisan.

The gods of death

love to eat apples:

carnivals

of grim, far bloomings,

and misfortune.

The cake is Miss Bethune,

and wisdom water Lethe,

I learn to be

born while I am dying:

wash me Kirye.

I the chicken,

loose the quicken

awaking,

meets the maker

the eclipsed sun

or skilled baker.

A day for captain's

tower

and trumpets to

sound

the crowned Rose of

passion and jealousy:

a post-modern

crucifixion.

Sending postcards

from heaven

traveling

back to my back

on the seventh.

When they stop,

I must be atop

and unpack

that I said not

I dreamed before.

[adorebus]

To Willy Monteiro Duarte

You wear white like a robe in the sky

eyes wide open like a curtain for you.

The sun is green, the grass is blue,

but the earth ground feels so light.

I can't feel what it means - on your own

being surrounded and still to be alone.

How does it feel? To withdraw a fight

without home? To drop dead in the night.

People called - we are not used to it

but there's more than we can admit

for every man that dies with contrite

face, the role of the living we recite.

Dreams that you desired make you live

out of good purpose, you fugitive!

And though you will outlive the fright,

too young too old adult, you shine bright.

You wear white like a robe in the sky

eyes wide open like a curtain for you.

The sun is green, the grass is blue,

but the earth ground feels so light.

[adorebus]

Rumor has it

Rumor has it that you have no place to go

you may check on this though, you outlaw.

Though people will talk a lot and suddenly forget

where the rumor had they get, the wind blows

but still they can't remember: and so they venture like Crusoe

with really no place where to go.

The men have vanished from our land

and from sand they grew into monsters,

and from friends they became accusers, but still

you may check on this you outlaw.

But you don't fear them, you wear no shoes

yet there is no need now for amuse, there's nothing

that was concealed to be disclosed, commanding us

with really no place where to go.

You may check on this though, you outlaw;

rumor has it that you're 'lone, heard that not a long time ago

when an apple falls on the ground, It's not an apple anymore.

[adorebus]

Goezia

Trough the radiant sun you came a little late

my God I want to know if you will ever come.

Many will claim my head and my name, some

they'll call the cheese, and people will be fooled;

again, as thorns and roses get under my thumb

and records spin endlessly, they will wage war.

Trough the radiant sun you came a little late

my God I want to know if you will ever come.

No one is like this freak! No one can fight it anymore!

Whispering is strictly prohibited, but shouting:

it shall be thousand years for sure the voice galore,

yet the people search a calm voice, that of a stranger.

Trough the radiant sun you came a little late

my God I want to know if you will ever come.

Then I'll put the son of aliens in great danger

and I will have them praying at my red magic lily;

stars and Entropy they won't be a game changer,

and my heart on fire will have peace, making you bait.

Trough the radiant sun you came a little late

my God I want to know if you will ever come,

with a kiss I shall damn you with all my undying hate

weaving knots before you, my lord you will succumb.

[adorebus]

The light is on

Have you seen the ruins? Not a single stone

shall be left upon another that won't be torn down:

but we're gonna find it, yes the light is on

for those I love, I knock them and check them.

All the things I fought for are on a mayhem

looking for the feeling that moved me long ago

then I find myself struggling with hard phlegm

so either was I an oak tree, or just a weak trunk.

Yes, the weight of memories falls by a great clunk,

but not a pleasant sound, what a crazy fool I was.

Nothing will reach for me, nor the hand that sunk

me truly, nor the light I pledged myself to hold dear.

I now embrace it fully, though I once stood in fear:

that is my destiny, to finally lose my precius voice

and to silently sigh for my unwilling tear

to slip aside and break free from the sorrow I grown.

Have you seen the ruins? Not a single stone

shall be left upon another that won't be torn down:

but we're gonna find it, yes the light is on

for those I love, I knock them and check them.

[adorebus]

It just works

He could already tell, that nothing - it lasts forever

because everything reserves to be free at last, friend

it just works, his father used to tell - whatever

it just works son, you could tell this was the end.

Don't try, my man Hank he said, hey send

me a postcard when birds, they stop singing

I said, there's more to what we may comprehend

anyway I don't buy your words, your truth lies;

don't buy, my man Martin said, man's demise

is to buy dreams on sale, but that's my name

I still search onto today: to me it dies

several sundays on a month, on a very long year.

Don't preach, my man Fred he said, drink beer

don't be an half-sick doomer, let misfortune

have another name for some time, Mr chevalier

sand comes down from the sky, no water whatsoever

He could already tell, that nothing - it lasts forever

because everything reserves to be free at last, friend

it just works, his father used to tell - whatever

it just works son, you could tell this was the end.

[adorebus]

Dear Deer

Tax-men and sinners approached to listen to him

and in the forest they said he mets with sinners:

he talks and eats with them in a place so dim

that there may be as well squirrels and trees.

He comes a foreign deer, yet he agrees

to hide between the bay hales and calm breeze:

what did surprise them, they were corn fields

where he found home, and took it with ease.

What's he doing here? To all nonbelievers

he comes a foreign deer, who heals grievers,

he heals this witch-things from their despair

he said he could see trough their fevers

and make them forget this neverending pain.

He comes a foreign deer, onto his true domain

he says to never trust your eyes in the morning

at dusk and night, thus they can't explain

what they shall see: the deer's hymn.

Tax-men and sinners approached to listen to him

and in the forest they said he mets with sinners:

he talks and eats with them in a place so dim

that there may be as well squirrels and trees.

[adorebus]

John gaslighter

Who is you, where are you, stupid bae?

Your cooking tastes good because I'm alive,

though it seems you constanstly betray

yourself and I appreciate that you still strive.

Yes, and he was no good at doing good

He has been a man long before adulthood:

his father said pussies ain't made for this world,

and so Johnny boy he thought I ain't any deadwood

I shall never cry for myself, only for savior Jesus Christ.

Yes, and he grew a burl out of him, he grew a burl

He went to high school and found a pretty girl,

whispering he said why don't we breed a bride?

He then took her some place and grabbed her curl

insisting they made love, while they made another son.

Yes, and he made a children out of evil, an evil child

He used to be cruel, he moved lamps so they seemed wild

and shortly after, when the baby began to cry,

he used to look over and over he used to smile

like he only could knew better, things were astray.

Who is you, where are you, stupid bae?

Your cooking tastes good because I'm alive,

though it seems you constanstly betray

yourself and I appreciate that you still strive.

[adorebus]

Peace is a warm gun

Who shot the peace gun?

Shoot shoot, barış sıcak bir silahtır.

— where's my pillow, oh sweet pillow hide my gun.

They say she gave a shot to the revolution;

now she sleeps on her pillow, holding the gun.

Shoot, shoot, peace is a warm gun!

— I won't share my pillow, I won't share my bowl

— and you won't take my food: I don't want your freedom.

She cried for those people to let them out of coal

mines; and Engin Çeber, he died by several hits at dome.

Shoot, shoot, peace is a warm gun!

Who shot the peace gun? Who shot the peace gun?

— accidents, they can happen you know?

Timtik she shot the peace gun, peace is a warm gun.

Just remember that they asked to join EU sometime ago:

— those broken men and corpses, soon to be undone

Peace is a warm gun; peace is a warm gun

peace is to conform, my son. Just conform my son!