Splash

the illusion is that you are simply
reading this poem.
the reality is that this is
more than a
poem.
this is a beggar's knife.
this is a tulip.
this is a soldier marching
through Madrid.
this is you on your
death bed.
this is Li Po laughing
underground.
this is not a god-damned
poem.
this is a horse asleep.
a butterfly in
your brain.
this is the devil's
circus.
you are not reading this
on a page.
the page is reading
you.
feel it?
it's like a cobra. it's a hungry eagle circling the room.

this is not a poem. poems are dull,
they make you sleep.

these words force you
to a new
madness.

you have been blessed, you have been pushed into a
blinding area of
light.

the elephant dreams
with you
now.
the curve of space
bends and
laughs.

you can die now.
you can die now as
people were meant to
die:
great,
victorious,
hearing the music,
being the music,
roaring,
roaring,
roaring.


Charles Bukowski (1920 - 1994).






3 ripostes trèès percutantes:

Skydancer 2 avril 2008 à 00:57  

Je t'ai demasqué!!
C'est un poisson d'avril!
Hein?!!

بنت الحياه 13 avril 2008 à 16:25  

OMG!

That's a perfect poem..

'it's a hungry eagle circling the room.'

What an IMAGE!

Thx for posting it..

Celulite 17 avril 2008 à 20:56  

Hello. This post is likeable, and your blog is very interesting, congratulations :-). I will add in my blogroll =). If possible gives a last there on my blog, it is about the Celulite, I hope you enjoy. The address is http://eliminando-a-celulite.blogspot.com. A hug.

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