I Count on an Unspecified Number of Diapers
I Count on an Unspecified Number of Diapers
I count on an unspecified number of diapers of those who ask themselves WHY,
of some who still share something with hope like an invisible thread floating in the void,
of stuck doors refusing the handle that could open the universe toward the light,
of vision as in the forever-deforested barren forest where trees are ghosts of clouds.
An almighty king of another kingdom I shall be, with a simple crown upon my head like a branch,
hanging toward my neck a goiter the size of Adam's apple pulsing in colors of emerald green,
in the depths of souls with grace to lure me the woman Eve, nimble and bodily,
of the winter I once imagined in a dream with autumn leaves that fall so soft.
The autumn leaves always do the same striptease, undressing in fine golden flames,
hoping this way to escape the dark thoughts that walk barefoot through my head always,
of life's vortex I am now the reference point like a north pole attracting all the storms,
until another pole down south will freeze my feelings and their heavy frost.
A reverberating torment for my heart of diamond to weep its mourning tears two by two,
with my sadist's blood so blue and despotic flowing through veins like cold mercury,
of eyelids moments now and then absent on the empty stage of the dream forever inert,
projected to anchor to my gaze a masterful flight pinning the infinite and the endless that grows.
As far as possible from an unpredictable stoic future I count on the unspecified diapers that float,
held back for those who ask themselves WHY like an echo reflecting in the cosmic void,
of some who still share something with hope like a thin thread of invisible gold that comes,
of stuck doors refusing the handle of vision as in the psychedelic barren forest that grows.
Almighty king of another kingdom I shall be, the crown upon my head a simple branch hanging toward the neck,
the goiter the size of Adam's apple pulsing in emerald in the depths of souls with divine grace,
the woman Eve nimble and bodily of the winter imagined in a dream with autumn leaves that fall,
always doing the same striptease hoping to escape the dark thoughts in my head that come.
Of life's vortex I am the reference point like a north pole attracting all the heavy green storms,
until another pole down south will freeze my feelings with the controversial frost that comes,
a reverberating torment for my heart of diamond the mourning tears with the blue despotic blood always,
of eyelids moments absent on the empty stage of the dream to anchor to my gaze the gentle flight that grows.
Pinning the sum of the infinite to the endless far from the stoic future that always awaits me,
I count on the unspecified diapers of those who ask WHY in the cold and empty cosmic void,
hope like an invisible golden thread the stuck doors refusing the handle of the barren vision,
king of another kingdom crown branch goiter apple in the depths of souls with grace that gently grows.
The woman Eve nimble of the winter imagined in a dream the autumn leaves do their striptease always gently,
the dark thoughts walk barefoot through my head life's vortex the magnetic north-pole reference that attracts,
another pole down south freezes feelings a reverberating torment for my heart of diamond that weeps heavy,
the mourning tears the blue blood of eyelids moments absent on the empty stage that moves.
To anchor to my gaze a masterful flight pinning the total sum of the infinite to the endless far,
from the stoic future I count on the unspecified diapers that float in the cold and empty cosmic void,
the question WHY hope golden thread stuck doors psychedelic barren vision that grows,
king kingdom crown branch goiter apple souls Eve winter leaves striptease that come and go.
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