The Moon Sang On The April Chair / Red Deep Dirges Of A November Moon  1995

   

A Face To Paint Tulips

When the moon sang on the april chair you were a face to paint tulips
grey steps, eyes on the walls, red-green women
perched cats, in your world of arcanum and usual
you took me by hand to the white ancient taste of childhood
you took me by hand to your worldmap reign arcanum and usual

Verdigis Wounds

I bow my head
stoning pearls
like enamel marbles
becoming unstrung
one by one
like verdigris wounds
of my boldness necklace
sunk wreckages
the only hold of instants
till the core bit
these are my verdigris wounds

The Tale Of The Crying Fireflies

Strange acorns of goose-grey laurel
brushwoods, branches and insects
laying down the border of the brothchannel

beside the eyes
an asphalted emerald hill
studded of intermittent lights

fire-flies and syrens
sea-urchins and fire-flies
fire-flies and wagons
hedgehogs and fire-flies

but whirls,
the funeral umbrella
of your gowns,
my dear, my dearest
my dear, my dearest
you fire-flies who cry

Colouring Nocturnal Lemons

Flakes of lights
flakes of voices
wherever pirouetted
like a primigenial chaos
like a futurist site
gushing rainbows
gushing darkness

evaporated we...
ethereal we...
in the glass dome
flakes of light

while clementines and lemons
rest
in the sharp teeth
of fire-clay fishes

Rocking Chair Of Dreams

Always rock me, always rock me on the rocking chair of dreams
you embroider with silvery sugar and starch that shine on the skin-moon
thousands thousands pink butterflies are flying
if you stare at me I see silk confetti raining like umbrellas
always rock me on the rocking chair of dreams
you embroider with silvery sugar and starch
I'm a free spiral-winged butterfly that lies only on your breast
how I love your perfect figure, the sublime harmony of your shape
always rock me, always rock me on the rocking chair of dreams ...

Satis Vixi

Satis vixi sine causa
acta est fabula
omnia sub leges mors vocat atra suas
ad perpetuam rei memoriam
mors acerba aut mori in tormentis
morsi sibi consiscere
mors ultima ratio
animus ad corpore se abstrahit
ad perpetuam rei memoriam

Lady Lazarus

Dying is an art like everything else
I do it exceptionally well
I do it that it feels like hell
I do it that it seems real

I guess you could say I've a call
It's easy enough to do it in a cell
It's easy enough to do it and stay put
It's theatrical, beware !

Herr God, Herr Lucifer beware !
Out of the ash I'll rise with my black hair
and I'll eat men like air
Out of the ash I'll rise with my black hair

Herr God, Herr Lucifer beware!
Out of the ash I'll rise with my black hair
and I'll eat men like air
Out of the ash I'll rise with my black hair

Herr God, Herr Lucifer beware !

Spiritus Ad Vindictum

Nihil effugium
rota torturae se circumagit
cum lamina acuta
culpas ab corpore
excorticat
et sibi eius torquem facit

Spiritus mendaci
Spiritus ad vindictam
Spiritus insanus
Spiritus insanus

Spiritus mendaci
Spiritus ad vindictam
Spiritus insanus
Spiritus insanus