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Defragmentation
... day in day out each and every minute i mean second
we indeed contemplate the good and the evil
which always brings us right to the very beginning
to switching on a Television
followed by a branching out and further contemplation
as we carry on gathering mosaic motley stones
for yet another attempt
to de-fragment
May be May
my name may be may
may is a poem lost
that we all so desperately strive to rediscover
and search for in the least plausible places
where only may may ever be allowed
only because it – may indicate a will to liaison the present mission
that is why an officer may have acquired identity of a may
and green snowballing suddenly crystallised into a clear picture
that hides a true spectre of the net – it, may
may is a name of a magician, an oracle
a secret formula classified in the dossiers of a ministry of hocus-pocus may be?
or what continues is nothing but a mirroring system?
well, it may
it may be that inter day span makes some breaking news of transformation
as all delayed stories turn out to be stories lacking a definite point
as the temporal turnes into eternal
and may into dismay
may grows in all seasons of every year
may is a tree and wind and rain and the sun moon siblings
and it may be of an ancient semitic tribe that may have bore the name of may
which may no longer be possible
to atriculate
may may be a Mr. Somebody but may as well may be Mr. Nobody
may may be me
may may be my name may be
(the one who dictated me this poem may know the answers)
To See
abstract images suddenly coming out
of the point where sight and touch have conflued
winter verses cannot help sweating in the summer heat
but what happens with an autumn love?
in the unfolding colours of the spring
is a vital thing
alike coming to senses with where and knowing why is what
aphilosopher‘s stone or:
an adjusted capital of a Ionic column
to see images in the lanes of wheat in the snow fields
tracks of some visitors and skiers
in every glass full of scotch on rocks
to see images
and know what is and what is not
(The fist time I saw a live fox
was at the age of 26, in Cappadokia)
neither god nor a badger have yet materialised my way
and only one museum remains where axes intersect
Selected Radio Waves
I can hear your voice
voice spelled in waves
I can´t see you
I can´t touch you
just the voice
unclear hissed aenesthetic
voice lost
in the waves of voices
in structures of sound fields
ungraspable imperceptible unfanthomable
despite the message
just the voice voice voice...
I can hear your voice
voice spelled in waves
I can´t see you
I can´t touch you
just the voice...
occasionally pop...
unclear hissed aenesthetic
voice lost
in the waves of voices
in structures of sound fields
ungraspable imperceptible unfanthomable
despite the message
just the voice voice voice
and occasionally, from time to time pop
Program Is Program
program is program
all the time it has been lying right before our eyes
oh until we figured out
that program is program
and
apparently
did not leave any info on its origin
on its goals & opuses
why and chiefly what for all this variety
all of the universe in every single module
why the hell did install it here?
the intricacy, zig-zaging in the loops of history?
it feels like playing a game of blindfolding with us
in the gardens of genetic structures
the role of speed of our machines and cryptography
let me repeat: program is program
and interpretation does not have to seem any more complex
due to reading Dino Barney by a child
that has been dormant in us for ages
it will just say:
program is program
apparently
saying nothing of its end.
This is not a TV series
much
perhaps all too much of dynamism
is there in my interior
in my blood
leaking through the pores of my skin
outside
affected by Ebola virus
the appearance – resurrection
that´s what I keep saying:
this is not a TV series
this is not a TV series
not at all, in fact
from punk to establishment
The spirit of satellite
I am
the spirit of satellite
(something of an angel)
I whisper whisper:
open discover my poetry quietly
you academics of the 22ndcentury
I am
the spirit of satellite
dont wanna harm you
I only wait for a reading
of heroic tales of the ancient media combats
I am
the spirit of satellite
empower your neurochip
together we´ll count down
our remembrances of the past
Translated by Martin Solotruk
