panoptic eye memoirs

I'm a self inverted voyour
watching is a perched telescope so high
elevated on a marble pedistal
over te city watches the panoptic eye
the city skyline and all its erections
it's pure jouissance for the metropolitan girl
miss independent
she explores with no protection

I hide and seek
enjoy the view from down below
as skirts flounder and bras are thrown
watch myself indulging in her loins
in some humid studio apartment
I protect her from the skyline and its erections...
with my own

For a moment i'm a city hero
Gotham cant hold a candle to me
i wash away all her insecurities
pooring like rapids of sweat from her skin
her satin sheets have now adopted them
her loins have adopted mine

merely watch myself shine
I commit the ultimate jouissance crime
I blindly cross the perversion line
with no regard for space and time...

fracture the norm
like water into wine
the inverted voyour changes form
my act is holy and devine
but the panoptic eye sees
heated apartment scenes
manufactured therapy
misunderstood climatic dreams
insecurities being dissolved in some emancipating texture of cum
and the self inveterted voyour remaining numb

last winter

The cedar tree thrives in the snow
it beckons for the cold
it gives it life
i watch it grow

I'm concaved somewhere in a cabin,
in the cold
getting old
it's a season like winter
i'm locked inside
shedding skin,
licking old wounds
you know the ones,
with the attached stigma that time would heal?

If it were a riddle and time just is...
I would be Billy Pilgrim
prisoner of the cold
just not a prisoner of war
without a means to battle
or experience with ammunition
i assume my condition

some cocked back trigger wont stop staring at me
it's only penetrating cold led
but for warmth i beckon
and the smoking ammunition will oblige
smoking hot copper barrel,
cold led in my head
Billy Pilgrim's dead

smiling all the way down

you threw your arms around me
held back the parting tears,
gave me that beautiful but hesistant kiss
as usual, clinging on to your fears
you need not be
if you stayed with me

the suitcase perched on the metal bench
like a hobo who grew attached to it
painful, lonely, but comfortable
maybe i was the real hobo
attached to a dark curly-haired amber
destined for a runaway train

the train coming to rush you to the red land
but on one perfectly still night your soul took my hand
so I believed you,
no checking whether the pool was full
blinded by your amber,
I dove in...all candour

the train hitched you, hobo suitcase detached
leaving behind the promises you requested of me
which i still keep,
like an innocent boy parting with his soon to be estranged father
"mum, he'll be back right, i'll write to him everyday"

and I just leaped
the wind in my hear, smiling all the way down
the hypocricy of your intimacy
still, i'm smiling all the way down

velvety friend

if not for you i'd drowned in all those teardrops that haunt me
run off my cheek and dip on my bottom lip

salty taste but bitterly swallowed
capsules for lonliness, flaw-filled medicine
for a lackluster dance,

but you, you saved me my velvety friend
in my self demise you prolonged my dance
soothed my pallate, enriched my thoughts
the quick fix i had always sought

like the "Man" i had become
i boistrously reached for another one
and when you decided to leave me
and take all the fun with you
the lights were no more bright,
His blood i had disavowed and in that divine rejection
i had to swallow another bitter pill
now i reached manhood i'm half the man i used to be

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