Visited my account in 2019 and im cringing

cringe overload but still fun

[eaclesparaadoxa]

xviii.

how far do you travell with your eyes closed?

every third day of the week, me and my cat are dead to the world.

we placidly travell impossibly far; with long-forgotten passwords we penetrate into the enigmatic parallel worlds, where man has never set foot in.

you are welcome to join us three days from now.

(bring an extra pillow with you)

[eaclesparaadoxa]

x.

do you accept my invitation to play one pick-up sticks game above that blazing fire - where start will at the same time be an end?

i release the bundle; - it’s your turn - then it’s mine, but the emperor’s already burning; only ashes remain.

with love, destiny

[eaclesparaadoxa]

sun, we've turned our backs on you despite your brilliant daily passages.

.

we hunted for the ripe decay, periodically, naively,

with innocence in our eyes.

the lilac nectar began to drip from the fruits of our mighty tree of life.

. .

now they ardently

rott

among weeds & velvety vermin & rancid bones

of those who were searching, but kneeled under the weight of the unrecognizable                                                                                            & blindness,

& of those who were wandering, but got lost at the end

.

their crosses were left in the bushes at the side of the road.

[eaclesparaadoxa]

a vapour rises from horse's nostrils.

it dissipates in the crisp winter morning as swiftly as trees relinquished their tattered golden blankets to the wind, as the dainty sunlight in december, and as a honey candle that burned away while the world was sleeping.

then i forgot the language of clocks and life willingly presented itself as the purest form of fluency.

[eaclesparaadoxa]

you got lost in Giorgio de Chirico's Metaphysical city & the sterile wind will soon take away the last petals of your beloved red rose.

a flock of wild geese is flying south across the indifferent blues above, and you hope you have the power to look into the darkness, to taste the cold again,

but you're so naked, the winter is near,

& the lullabies of cicadas

forgotten.

[eaclesparaadoxa]

two lingering stones -of the past & the future- strike together.

it creates you, human consciousness but not really lol

you’re but a fleeting spark, that just

is,

is,

is

a bright spot of the present in the thick dark unattainability of the time in which there's no "you"

anymore or yet.

[eaclesparaadoxa]

in colours that sing and poems that love you back i'm slowly dissolving melancholy of autumnal moribund sunlight.

//

while crisp leaves are dancing, i would sing you in colours and you would be my poet on a monochrome background.

[eaclesparaadoxa]

the mountains are nearly asleep;

buried in tired leaves, they're humming a howling lullaby of wind.

.

the background is quiet;

spruce tops pierce the hearts of thick clouds but they're doomed to silence.

[eaclesparaadoxa]

through the sun-soaked golden dunes beyond the world's eyes

you walk towards the end still empty-handed,

beseeching for water but not salty pearls.

one day your roots will move away that cyclopean stone, one day your mind will be a greenhouse amid decaying wooden bones.

[eaclesparaadoxa]

harmony derails and becomes noise:

a guardian converted into a prosecutor,

an unyielding hound.

[eaclesparaadoxa]

thought-ends, lacerated, dilapidated ,

pink above looks suspicious,

artificial

[eaclesparaadoxa]

mind seeks always and still

the momentum.

body hunts

the zenith - maybe untouchable, but daunting for sure.

you hunt a body with your body, u might just be dieting or u r a serial killer what

[eaclesparaadoxa]

castles are abandoned and butterflies caught.

once pink skies are now the highest blues that seem too deep - sun burns there: placidly, always in a whisper

still too loud;

of tragedy - too often of tragedies.

[eaclesparaadoxa]

bang bang big bang

& the pot without bottom was toppled.

the sky remains

high & we still

in the game.

[eaclesparaadoxa]

a whale swims - i mount it & never come back. imagine./?

ocean becomes home.

[eaclesparaadoxa]

underwater under sun - paradisical;

sunlight is a pale echo, a timid doe.

all parallel to the petrichor.

[eaclesparaadoxa]

oh summer, you adore slowness & rambling dialogues with poignancy, melancholy & solitude.

Great Bear constellation and tired eyes and my heart is a fosill on a pilgrimage.