Pink Pathetic Pink

Pink Pink
Baby happy pink
Rosie cheeks
And puppy love winks
Fair hair woven
A pathetic heart’s stolen
Your back blushing in the fire place
My burden heavy and draconian
“now catapult into outer space”

Warmed by your delicate face
I wish you were warmed
by my pathetic chase.
Thoughts feeding on and clinging to
your every intangible love trace
No! Don’t turn and look
Am I an open book?
Is my heart on my sleeve?
Pathetic enter,
Enter you perverse peeve!
Burden leave!

Old Carsija Skopje

How do they stay so polished?
Millions of them
Friends for centuries
Lying there side by side
revived and living again
Masquerading as a weightless soul’s guide
They breathe from the same pore,
innocent witnesses of love and war
Thick blood, bitter wine, salty tears
Just a bad dream?
Real Balkan fears

A storied fort they hold
Apartments occupied by Ottoman gold
But their occupants suffer of shivery
Their minds are preoccupied
with Yugoslav misery
And now love fractures,
Hope fades and apathy triumphs?

Those granite stones
Braver than I, stronger than thee
Full of life, full of foresight
They know no downfall
They have absorbed all the bitter wine
And this time they masquerade
as love’s sunshine
So chin up little boy
Your Utopia is revived and living again

Empty shoes

In the moment I fell outside of thought
Outside of rationality
And of processing which thought was linked to which emotion
Was it guilt that chained me to the act
Or was it anger that led me to think it was time
For me it was about time
the system in our brain
that leads us to rational thoughts and actions
and separates us from unintelligent species
was replaced by the 'feel'
and the unbounded freedom of instinct
and as the ignition turned off, click

I stepped out,
small splashes for heavy shoes
interrupting the raindrops' natural course,
trajectory
and fateful meeting with the asphalt
the first drop on my thick black hair
it momentarily sticks
then gives up and runs down
subsequently, drops
two, three, and four
two's on my shoulder
balancing and dancing with gravity
it doesn't stick
three is lingering
in the space between my forearm
and bicep
it trickles around to my elbow,
and sprints to my index finger and
gravity wins
it cannot stick
four splashes on my neck
it wants to stick
raising the small hairs on my back
journeying up and down
the bumps of my spine
circling my raised hairs
a cross country trip
abruptly halted then absorbed
by the pig skinned cylinder
of my dagger's handle
then instinct drops
gravity takes over
it sticks
just like the dry blood on my blade

a lovers sand

In between the sheets they lie,
he feels her soft skin
and in the warmth it melts and seeps through his hand
a lovers sand,
a love pulsating, heated sweat
turns the flow of sand into glass,
the glass windows we lock ourselves in
afraid of our perverse natures,
to search for fobidden desire
and crave for intense pleasures and climaxes
so that when she screams she calls me Messiah
"Oh God"
she knows this was worth it
worth the shame game of "i dont fuck on the first date"
"if you really loved me you'd wait"
not realising that love is what we hate
the almighty repressor of lust
the window imprisoning us
which only lust can thrust
thrust, again and again and again
until i am mind fucked pooring sweat.
tear ducts dancing with tears
to hold them or to let them go
the hesitation that i have destroyed
and now on ur left bossom my kiss is embroid
in between the sheets they lie
a heartbeat away from another mindfucked fantasy
for the blasphemy ridden "Messiah"