The happiest man on earth

I want just for now to say that I’m sorry

Because I often do exaggerate

I know I require too much

And sometimes I forgot we’re different persons with different ways of understanding the world

I can’t flush it away

It’s like some illness.

And only in the gardens of stone

We would be all right

I only stop being that nugget

because

 I love you

Three very limited words

And they’re the

the size of the world

I kept the scene

A close up

You

You and the roof

A tiny little roof

A starlight sky

Our hands tide up

And kisses

Tongues, and sweat and tears

And blood

I already told you

I want you to be the happiest man in the world

And I want to be the happiest babe on earth

But there are essentials

And I need to know that we all are

In here

At the best place on earth

Same place

Anywhere

On the moon

We have to

Work some dots

I don’t want you to say

That you don’t love me

That you won’t give me this world and the other

I dry my tears

And I clean yours

it is not fair

damages me

And faith doesn’t like it

me neither

You need to have it all and know

How to prepare it in the best way possible

I know I’m very though

I am

But very little things were made from softness

I don’t need you around all the time

But I need to know that in a way or another you are

around

so I don’t forget the kisses

and the blood and the sweat

this has been so fresh with love

I need to be the best pearl

To rock your world

To flow your song

Like they say

But at the end it turns to be

some kind of implicitly truth

Otherwise it’s not worth it

And I don’t want no madness no

I don’t want you to be cruel

The world is so filled with cruelty

To you to be out there filling it more

Until it is stuck with grief

I always choose the best words

And I put them the best way possible

I’m very though

If you wanna leave

You know you can

God knows everybody can leave

But someone will have to learn how to live without you

How is it, I sometimes wonder,

To be the happiest man on earth

To be that, the man of my life.

the fishes

I’ve got a pond

And no clothes

My lover ripped them off of me

I yell, and nail and squeeze

I get in

I wash my feet

And the water is not cold

It’s kindly warm

and

There’s a steam

Grabbing my limbs

it

appears like fingers

 Love fingers

I immerse

A door left open

He’s missing too

Nobody says two without tools

I bathe

And he washes

In the pond of warm honey

I sight him

He sights me too

But too doesn’t come

Without this much of a due

We are electric lovers

And we are mad

We have fights

And then we run

Into the pod

And as we bathe we look

For reasons to don’t drown

ourselves in

the

fishes say we are smart

and

 that it’s

all about smartness

but

We kept alive all these years

Without drowning

And using this simple method

Of washing and noting

That we are everything except smart

We don’t drown

But we burn

The sun’s baking

And I tell the fishes relationships are not about smartness 

ultra-animal-violet

Under the uv light

We

tire up clothes

slash meat

flesh

we break

some bones

and roar

and howl

gloomily like the wolfs

cry

tears and snot

we spit

and mess it all

with saliva

but our teeths

get sharp

and angry

factious

eyes get deranged

a single slice

of lucidity

before hot temperature

to increase

blood to boil

simmer

we simply sit down.

I sit down, he

Turns the lights on.

It’s another world

We get to another world

As quickly as the switch

We keek each others

We band to our bodies

And meal

We make love

Something as rude

and raw

as making love

when you attain

a part of the world

or a shadow of a room

illuminated by some specific lightning

on smelly grey sheets

with few particles

of night light

hardly watchable

and a background sound

of interspersed moans

compiled

with minds

capable of everything

and as the night go by

the wolfs howl

and we make love

and moan

and you get hard

and I get wet

and there’s a special light glimming on the ceiling

and you call that something

ultra

animal

violet

A strange man

There was this man

Who lived all of his life

Surrounded by things and people

And he was always sited in a chair

That had two gold large armrests

And a little wood support for his feet

He was a noiseless man all right

He did no harm

He had only kindness,

 richness

A beautiful accent, two ladies

A giant house and

A quite normal reasoning

One day he realized

That things could be more

Useful if you meant them not

To be perpetuated by sense

So he started living life without logic

And he would choose everything backwards

Like his teeth

Your supposed to brush them three times a day

He would do it eleven times

and they got white

but so white that they started to disappear

so he bought chewing gum

and he attack it there

he started to read books

and words

from their end to their beginning

and he achieved a new significance in life

he knew another worlds

and the earth and magnitude

didn’t meant anything

were too…

pour…

he breathed air through his penis

and it was like he didn’t had lungs

or didn’t need them at all

he listened to sounds

with a gramophone

and he could not speak

but he laugh loud

like a sensual girl

he had a strange snicker

and he would seem

so serious

and sad

that the cats would feed him

with jam and cheese

and little pieces of broccolis

he could bark too

but he couldn’t meow

and he had a shadow

and his shadow

seemed to follow him

everywhere

and she speaked

and talked

and was fozzy

but handsome

an handsome shadow

with a great masculine voice

and bright eyes

and no animal hums

and lungs that breathe

and ears that hear

he used his shadow

because

he thought he needed the normality

that raged her

and he never had money

he didn’t need money

He pooped stars

And he would pay things with them

So people could have more dreams

And less

Pain.

He knew everything about pain

All about

Live

And that dreams

Make everyone pretty much alive

He tried to sleep very much

Hours and hours

So he would dream

And so on live

He didn’t take drugs

But he would sell them

And he said that he sold

Ideas and

Everyone bought them

And so he stole people’s dreams

With ideas

He never felt hungry

Or get sick

Or had the need to make love

Or have sex

But one day

He had a fight with his soul

She said that she spent years serving him

Which he didn’t valued

He didn’t care

So the man got very angry

Very nervous

And he hit the floor

With his fist

So hard that he broke it

And in the middle of the floor

A blood river grew

And he could see hearts bumping there

And the fishes

Were so alive

That he cried everytime he looked at them

That river didn’t know what dead was

He bought every words in the world

And he poured them in the river

And more fishes raised

And the sea got sublime

And so he started to live by the sea

He told the fishes stories

And they listened to them

With those spread little eyes

Sometimes

those fishes cried

and he cleaned their tears with love

but soon he felt lonely

and he created another mind

of his own

and after some time

he was double minded

and after some more time

he was triple minded

and so on

that man

lived with terrible other minds

by the sea

with fishes that sang

he was a strange man

and he had a strange life

but by instantiates

a mind that has the ability

to create another minds

is able to dominate the world

ex-isting

I’m disabled to go very far

I got sticks instead of legs

And they don’t own feet

Neither plexus

Physical sensibility.

I’m disabled to go anywhere I feel like

I got no hands, no arms,

wings stirring instead

but I don’t fly

I fall.

I’m disabled to listen anything

My ears are broken

Profusely damaged

I have diamond rings

Spiked in the place of lugs

And sound is something crystallized to me.

I’m disabled to speak

I know no words

I lick no tongue

I don’t drink, don’t kiss, don’t eat

I starve to death

Every day until morning to sunset

And soon enough I get used to it

I’m empty.

I’m disabled of living

I own no heart

It doesn’t pulse,

It is quiet,

Damned,

Annoyingly silent

It doesn’t want to be granted

It has no kith

Only a solitary artery

Who depends on it since ever.

I’m disabled to defecate

I got no anus

No sphincter

Instead I have an eye

That weeps

And sometimes

He blinks too.

I’m disabled to drink

I possess no liver

No kidneys

Some bourbon would kill me

Absolutely fast

But I do own something:

I got a construction

An empire building

Of ramifications, veins, hemispheres

And it is all it matters

My material deconstruction, my misalignment

I’m able to feel, to live, to dream

I own some brains

And they support themselves with esthesia

About an arrow

I have this little poem
About an arrow
I’ve been working on
And I try to read it
To some lovers who have listened
And listened
And they all seem
To think its crazy
They told me they see
No arrow in there
I’m going nuts
Kind of mad
Writing about tongues and love making
And arrows
I keep telling them
This is not about
Tongues and love making
Don’t get distracted by details
Don’t love small parts
Look to the original
Be an all
Not a part
But they all were parts, my lovers
And they didn’t recognize an all
Without its part
They don’t recognize any alls
Any parts
Nothing
Not even an arrow
And its parts like
Some say I’m too petty
Too critical
Demanding
But when it gets to
Tongues
And love making
I wonder
What’s wrong with my arrows?
I guess, the answer is,
I should find
Better lovers.

The War

Beyond this world
And the next one
Some may have learned how
To leave their presence in
EXISTENCE
By breaking toilet sinks
By shaking hands
Writing absolutely genius works
Absolute astonishing lyrics
Emotional intellectual poems
A classic song
By loving one of a couple
By being loved by one of a couple
By giving birth
By having sex and great orgasms
And fireworks
And stars
By simple mere revelation of
FORCE
And CAPACITY
And MOTIVATION
Single marks, valses and a typical way
Of be living and
Not be lived
By a matter of faith
And incapacity
Longitude
You will never be able
To touch sadness, melancholia, nostalgia,
Even glory.
Achieve the paramount of awareness
Let yourself fall
Through meaning
And
Wake up every morning
To break a little
Of what doesn’t break you