The Diary of a Night

Childhood. Fairy tales smell of Virginity, Thirsts and Innocence.

White Queen in a golden crown is greeting me with subtle nod. I am coming to her Throne slowly, like an everlasting slave I am kneeling to her feet.

I'm overwhelmed by a scent. Created in a barberian way, ideal for my senses. What kind of Monster I'm becoming? What miracles do I make? Which path to choose?

I am rejecting the ancient philosophers, despising contents of thick books created so detailed through centuries. I am closing my mind to a great paintings. My swelled, tired lips are touching the surface of the white page.





A Queen with her bright, white skin came back. She took my face into her hands and lift my chin up slowly.

,,What messages are you bringing? From which land are you coming from ?''

,, I don't know my Destiny, my Lady. I saw the lights, I heard a sounds of humans crowds and my heart trembled. ,,

,, What wish lead you to my gates ? What longing ? ,,



Time of a war

East is coming to West

Blood sweat and death

Angel is spreading his wings

Nonexisting Unknown

Come my Love

And kiss me so deep

So the Devil will moan in ecstasy

And he will fall down

Under

Under

And we will drown in a sweet

Substance of Anarchy

The world will burn with East

And we with our legs swinging

We will become immortal

Sitting on the top of tower of Babel



It seems like the moon light is warming my face. Is it possible that His Majesty spread on the wooden cross could fill my body with such a warmth ?



Michelangelo ,, The creation of Adam ,,

I am looking at his strong, archaic hand raised up to the sky with hope. The Great Watchmaker after the while of debate had make a decision. That moment, just after the Big Bang , had a consequences in all joys and falls of our world. Imagine, my friend, the earth free from wars, bloody crusades and religions. Imagine endless space free from humans voices, buildings and crowds. Imagine the land with no sweat and love, with no philosophers and songs. Imagine, therefore, the world without yourself.



The oval, metal stone is making a fire and half-transparent Bogey is rising to sluggishly wrap the lamp of indygo colour. I'm inhaling a cigarette smoke slowly. I can feel how it penetrates my nostrils and reaching the lungs makes sudden, pleasant pain. Ssssssssssssssss...

Why am I always overwhelmed by the desire of a touch ? The Great Watchmaker is smiling again and with amazing easiness he condemns me for another suffering. Does anyone else exist ? Did the earth burns and there are only ashes left ?

Oh, what a relief ! Like an Ancient Demon standing insolently right in front of me, hungry, shapeless, deadly dangerous. ,, Come in deeper ,, - I whisper with no second thought. ,, Burn my lips, pour the hot lava into my entrails, embrace me ! We will dance together to a melody of Madmen, and when the dawn will come we'll fall weakly on this stage and one of us will die.,,



Recipe: a glass of wine in a colour of burgundy. Increasing taste of sulphites.



Immerse me

Take my Existence into your hands

Make me to Redemption

Carry me into the arms

Of the Great Architect

I am calling you

My love

What poetry is this

Angels are smiling from uplands

Missing Passing away

The chariots are waiting

Burning in a flames of the rising sun

Who is this Sinner

She ruined the gates of Jericho

She destroyed the Great Order

Laughing at Grey-bearded Oldman

At his Perfect

Sacred Majesty

And the crowds of Unfaithful had risen

Devotees of the Golden Calf

And the Big End started :

Fire exploded unexpectedly

Killing all the firstborns

Mourners appeared on the streets

Of the cities

Carrying a nuisance to passers-by

,, Death is near ,, - they said

,, The Savior is close ,, - they said

,, The End is coming ,, - they said

She spread her naked thighs

And the Redemption had come

Warm Moist

Definitive





Jazzman was banging violently on the piano keyboard. His pads were moving from here to there like a fingers of a Perfect Lover. He stopped suddenly fascinated by her closeness. Overpowered by her scent, the lightness of a breath, an Exceptional Perfection of her Creation.



,, A memory of the past ,,

Guided by the instructions of the Greatest, Cassandra climbed to the Hill. There was no Burning Tree or faithful creatures waiting patiently by the bottom of a mountain. There was nothing that could remind past or predict future. Growing Emptiness was weaving into her hair.

How hard it is to comprehend all the centuries of philosophers ? What kind of artistry, language, what understanding would be appropriate ? Who to believe in to receive the Great Reward of Immortality ? Let us rejoice !

The body of Cassandra has been found by a local hermit. There was nobody waiting for a Prophecy. All old women disappeared suddenly, men departed for wars, those, full of violence and blood. Birds of prey have found a flavour of her skin, going deep through with their claws, they have tasted a blood. Like a newborn child who's catching the first breath with a fear. Oh, Cassandra, please predict my future, you- Lady of Cards and Gypsies ! You- who does not exist anymore. So the Eagles will last forever.



,, The night escapade ,,

Come to the gardens of queen Marie.

Let's lay down on a backs and light a cigarettes.

I want to contemplate the starry sky, I want to dip my fingers into the beard of sleeping God.

I want the Universe to love you.