Superman
 

    I made a wish today.
    Perhaps even before.
    I am not certain,
    Not anymore.
    When my soul longs for something
    Weather desire was heart-bottom truth
    Or just another illusion had happened
    To me…
    Just like you did.
    Yes, a lot like you.

    I fly.
    In agony, unable to touch the ground
    With my feet over my shadow,
    Reaching closed sky.
    Lighter than air.
    So disgustingly light I hardly can bear.
    Drawing silhouettes on the stones of asphalt
    That merely resemble of myself
    Once, when I’d in the peek of my might
    On one way street paved with the light
    Left clear traces, left deep scars
    Some other people once must have followed
    From deep dirt of mud to shiny throne
    Where now? – I ask.
    Will I be able once more to go on?
    
    I read some of incredible rhymes
    Could not help it, but not to ask:
    Why are we proud of all those things
    That we were ashamed of once in the past?
    Am I proud?
    Where my pride comes from?
    I’d know if moment could forever last.
    Now every thought that boils in my mind
    Disappears in a lightning moment
    Turns into vapor
    Pollutes the air
    Around us,
    Inside ourselves.
    “My mind is the darkest dungeon of all.”-
    Do you remember words of long lost poet?
    The omen reaching through hollow dreams
    Speaks of a meaning and of my means.
    Truth and destiny hidden in one place.
    I feel it, as sweat in fear
    Runs down my face.

    I sleepwalked again last night.
    Not only walked, but in my polymorphism
    Melt down with the wall, while my feet
    Sunk in soft surface, towards the bottom
    Of cold concrete.
    Rain fell over my heart.

    I traveled to you through my dreams and words
    Felt brave, reborn all over again
    But I stopped abruptly the moment I felt
    Icy knife reaching from your breath.
    Oh, God,
    Why couldn’t I ever say that I loved you
    In past life and before
    The God himself
    Once
    Before Noah sailed his way
    Through awful, rotten
    God's swamps.

    Occasionally
    I regret, but most of times
    I’m thankful to myself for the way I travel
    On this road of self, and those magic moments
    When we are alone: Just me,
    I and you, in crack of the mind
    When headless creature of inspiration
    Dances in the mud of heart
    Finally is born
    Then starts to run
    Jumping around
    Like a madman,
    Growing each second feeding on dirt
    That boils and spreads from air around.
    Until it finally overgrows
    And painfully thorn
    Explodes
    With ear piercing howling
    Squirting face with blood.
    While seconds are ticking away.
    One moment was born
    But previous died
    Then another one right after it.
    Making a graveyard of pointless moments
    Reaching eternity, reaching so far.
    Still unable to reach,
    To touch
    The grave in front of it.
    Another verse found its way out
    Another scar,
    In eternity.
    In emptiness.

    I thought about creation
    And lack of originality in our lives.
    To me, every
    Madman is original
    Insane man-big or a small one
    Misunderstood, every one-originality master
    Although we never gave him a credit.
    A thought-Not a bit.
    But originality quietly hides itself
    Untouchable,
    Non-existent
    For us, who take it away from others.
    Celebrating it as our own.
    Celebrating it as misunderstood.
    Unique and hidden
    From hungry world.

    Run away!
    Hide your self away, my friend.
    With all this lightness I’ll try to break
    Principles and laws you have learned so far
    And perhaps at the end,
    When you least expect it
    I’ll fire up the will inside you to change
    To live and to die
    And be born again.
    All in one moment-
    Just like did I.

    I, I, I, I !
    That’s all my ears have heard today
    Marching over a gloomy graves
    Of those who have fallen for silly ideals
    Of those who will never hear silent pray
    From their dearest ones, their closest ones.
    An old woman with eyes hanging to the ground
    Mourning for someone of her own kind
    Asked me, twisting her furious face:
    Is this still not enough for you???
    Pause.
    Quiet.
    Isn’t it?
    I wanted to scream,
    To rip sky with voice and all world to be
    One sword of screams:
    Woman! People!!!
    You, who have sold your own dreams
    Replaced them with someone’s foolish ideals
    Wouldn’t you rather trade place with me?
    So instead of all your bitter sorrows
    Glorious happiness of my heart to be.
    Would you celebrate or cry out in rage
    For all curses I have brought down with me
    While soul after soul is mercilessly cut
    And under my feet, in dirt, it bleeds.

    You must be thinking-It’s so easy for a man
    Still haven’t seen the most
    Terrifying scene.
    Have you?
    My face-that pale, cold stone
    When peace streams down through my open veins
    So peaceful-
    Non existing,
    Like a pulse of a dead man you’re crying for
    And then, not only that I just hear.
    In magic of glorious moment I feel:
    I! I! I! I!
    It’s too insufficient for me!
    Yes!
    So limited and so insufficient.
    The beast is roaring in rage from inside
    While I look at you all with eyes of a child
    Innocently,
    And ready for crime.

    Thoughts-they are the greatest treasure of all
    For those sophisticated enough to use them.
    And are even a greater punishment
    For those who can only soak their mind
    In idea that says: ”I don’t know how”.
    I try to stay calm
    Aware of surroundings
    Try not to blow up in front of ignorance sight.
    I look for,
    I’m finding…
    But can’t seem to keep for long time
    Thought.
    A friend that comes the best in pair with silence
    Like a guest, with morning coffee and grayness
    Of cigarette smoke.
    With every new day
    And new beginning
    I continue
    Like we all continue
    Our new beginning
    Tying it onto
    Our unfinished,
    Never ending
    Ends.

    Oh just how bitterly I want to cry!
    Each tear will wash out from my stained soul pain.
    Endlessly I would cheat people, lie-
    My foe as well as the brother of mine.
    End up the curse of my knowledge-
    That Crime.
    But devil doesn’t want to allow.
    Devil or some silly
    Miniature god.

            Ddrove 2001