Another poem, this time concerning reincarnation, rituals, death and sex… I bit inspired by Burroughs and Ginsberg (beat!!!)

With face of fire

and hand, raised in a mighty posture,

he holds a gun.

When streaming pulses

Forward run,

Towards their final station,

One mighty bang,

and life itself 

collides with death,

as happens impregnation.

Death is, but transport 

Of the soul,

As both are dying out: 

Extatic scream 

And lonesome howl,

It gathers, but in fact another meaning:

From dreadsome end

to new beginning,

Breath of a frog 

To child will flow,

Its future surely out of question:

For frog that suffered hasty death

A peaceful life will surely have 

But now in human skin.

Shall this erase

Off fiery face 

The sweet and fearful double sin?

Or cause a ghastly curse?

Perhaps this scene 

depends on you, 

Your means,

and how you verse.




Et voilà!

The karmic pact

is formed,

Mechanic movement 

of the world

anew is set 

it’s set in gold, 

expanding, starting to unfold.






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