monocronico

We call it a grain of sand,
but it calls itself neither grain nor sand.
It does just fine without a name,
whether general, particular,
permanent, passing,
incorrect or apt.

Our glance, our touch mean nothing to it.
It doesn’t feel itself seen and touched.
and that it fell on the windowsill
is only our experience, not its.
For it, it is no different from falling on anything else
with no assurance that it has finished falling
or that it is falling still.

The window has a wonderful view of a lake,
but the view doesn’t view itself.
It exists in this world,
colorless, shapeless,
soundless, odorless, and painless.

The lake’s floor exists floorlessly,
And its shore exists shorelssly.
Its water feels itself neither wet nor dry
and its waves to themselves are neither singular nor plural.
They splash deaf to their own noise
on pebbles neither large nor small.

And all this beneath a sky by nature skyless
in which the sun sets without setting at all
and hides without hiding behind an unminding cloud.
The wind ruffles it, its only reason being
that it blows

A second passes.
A second second.
A third.
But they’re three seconds only for us.

Time has passed like a courier with urgent news
but that’s just our simile.
The character is invented, his haste is make-believe
his news inhuman.

Wistawa Szymborska

Hold on to nothing, and dance in the air.

I feel my heart begin to swell, it’s getting bigger.
-So is my ego.

The need to destroy, to change, to mutate. 
Creep back into the cave.
“Don’t touch me”, I’ve lost control.

I become the me my conscience loves to hate.
I am a sociopath in my own way.
Feed me drugs and lies and love and sex.
Then tear me apart,
shred by shred.

I am NOT afraid. So break my heart again.

i see you staring
but you’re never understanding
i hear you talking
but you always condescend

you wear your glasses
so they know you’ve got some sense in
but we all laugh about it
when you’re not around

and lately i feel
like i don’t want to be your friend

you’ve got class
you’ve got style
take a bow,
‘cause you know it all

and I feel,
yes I feel,
I don’t want to be your friend