Monday, October 26, 2009


Music Flows River

Music is the only storyteller
That glorifies the story of dumb times

Rhythm of conversation between granny and grandson
Fills the material sounds with silence

Silence glows like a distant planet
When music
Touches the unseen blades of hungry words

Music is drunk like wine by them
Who never
Fight own war
For they are always warriors of others

Let there be music
In every solemn villages
Forgotten by dynamic civilization

And now- music flows river
From the top of the hills of their pains

Wish You Were Here

Wish You Were Here

“O babe, babe
It’s a wild world”-Cat Stevens

Believe me- I smile at your image
Just to embed my distress

Feeling down
In this gloomy evening

Only if you were here
With all your strengths
Then with all my weaknesses
Would have felt warmth
Of meta-emotion of still cornerstones

Looking at moon
I burn my sights
So that
I could imagine there’s no country
No Hell
No Heaven
And no walls

Speech turns off
From the words
Of ever advertising market

No hell seems more hellious
Than this
Paradise of paradoxical greed

I need you to make me able to heal me

I feel like a winner
When I think I’ve nothing to lose

I feel like a winner
When I forget to win

I feel down when I’m not able to see
What else always lingers on my back?

Wish You Were Here
Wish to see my dark side