What does the cat purr in your ear?

 

 

 

 

La Petite Mort

 

 

 

 The moonlit night hugged her tight,

She moaned and opened her eyes,

‘How can you sleep?’

‘Someone is watching us’,

‘It is a jealous witch’,

‘Don’t pay attention,

Love’,

 She approached a window,

To close a curtain,

It hallucinated us,

 ‘Don’t close,

I want to see you’,

Someone was watching her,

Do you know  the little death happens,

Each time I look at you’,

He put his arms around her,

Slowly kissing the sin,

She closed her eyes,

‘Soon everything will be over,

In a second I will be back,

Or I’ll stay forever in him’,

Light explosion blinded her eyes,

They got addicted to him and his darkness,

Her husband entered the realm,

Invading the makings of her messy excitement,

‘Do you know what time it is?

It’s three in the morning, writer’,

‘You won’t believe what is going on,

It’s 3 a.m.  love I am writing,

For the first time I saw an angel,

Like a rodent I stared at him,

I heard the whisper of beautiful rattles,

I was hypnotized by the shine of his eyes,

I felt the touch of his scales,

I still remember his screams,

A rattlesnake was an angel.

He softly slithered,

Before it was light,

He wasn’t gone,

He vanished,

Into the shrine of a dangerous dragon,

Everything is almost over,

Lend me a moment,

One second of my life’,

‘Are you serious that it’s love?

I am entitled to see,

Who you love, why and how,

I’m entitled to know,

When it took place’,

‘You think that love is funny,

I know you,

You will laugh,

That’s why you are not’,

‘I am intrigued by ‘he started to kiss’,

By all versions of your perversions,

Your notebook says,

Like sugar she melted in his caress’,

‘It isn’t true,

You’ve made it up,

It’s not telepathy between underpants,

A making out baby,

It makes no sense when it is said,

Only when it goes on,

Love may be a gun,

Love may be bite-size,

Love is the biggest maybe’,

‘I started embracing darkness,

The night outlined all its saints,

A hissing match woke me up,

Resurrecting me from the dead ‘.

What does the cat purr in your ear?

 

 

 

Disintegration

 

 

‘Sometimes we seek in the places,

Where we don’t want to find,

It is your reward for patience,

It is the best room to write’,

‘It is too dark here,

When sorcery ends, you will be blind’,

‘Sometimes the blind see better,

Wannabe artists come here and take,

An inspirational drive,

In this haunted sensational ditch,

It might be a palmy start,

These days they avoid saying ’talent’,

Probably they don’t have,

It isn’t a rave party,

But if you have the X factor,

This den can make you rich,

This sorcery can make you thrive,

No one is real here,

It’s your delusions,

You have just seen,

You only hear voices,

It’s the G-spot of imagination,

It is the best place,

For writing   jaw breaking thrill,

At first sight it looks like erotic,

Dating back to the anarchy years,

It is a hive of ideas,

It’s a difference between two clients,

Mediocrity writes love making,

A genius writes making love,

The other day one wrote,

While I was standing behind,

I was stalking the right moment,

Like a skirt of a doll,

It flittered above,

I hurried up,

I clawed it,

I smoothed the machaon wings,

The very moment it happened,

He wrote,

  Butterfly Stitches,

Untold Nonsense Abusively Shared,

By One Delusional Moth,

She dreamt of a small butterfly,

It sat on her naked tummy,

For a second she felt,

‘My heart will die,

You force it to stop running’,

Golden azure kept flying around,

It fluttered to her breasts,

Flirting with her living or dying,

It fell in love with her zest,

The lightest touch can suffocate you,

‘How can you sleep?’

The hands of the clock stopped moving,

Showing three in the morning,

She saw his smile,

The night saw his grin,

It’s the hour of her wolf,

It lay on a lily-white sheet’.

 

 

What does the cat purr in your ear?

 

 

They Didn’t Live, They Had Been Sinking.

 

 

‘I took one sip of whiskey,

I felt the lips of ice,

My inner voice told me,

Follow black masks,

Obeying I opened the door,

And found myself in obsolete darkness,

It was a cherry blood floor,

Everything was dressed up,

In naked maroon velvet,

A beautiful voice sang,

In gusts of hysterical music,

The second voices blissfully swayed,

To the rhythm of moaning hearts,

And beautiful maroon bruising,

A frightening beautiful picture,

Of hysterical massive sex,

Echoing nameless voices,

Fluttering flattering candles,

Were burning one hundred scents,

I saw them one hundred nights,

I knew their masks and faces,

I didn’t want to look,

 I turned away all my senses,

Like anything in the mansion,

It was a rolling hit,

You know I was a writer,

I always faced a dilemma,

To change the world or to write a book,

That would be a best seller,

That everyone would love,

I didn’t dissect my worries,

I got rid of my morals and tact,

In the beginning I fought with my demons,

I didn’t want to admit my defeat,

I couldn’t stop,

I continued,

Simply because I couldn’t stop,

I continued to punch air,

It was made of my weakness and pride,

I insisted,

Till I was knocked down,

Finally I fell apart,

I’d have become a crook,

I’d have become a villain,

I’d have killed,

I knew that I could,

She inspired my evil semen,

I’d have killed,

Under one unfulfilled circumstance,

Bury me  in the velvet couch,

I took a lethal dose,

I didn’t count drops,

I died grooving on weed and absinthe,

And wetness of her cold,

I entered all rooms to find her,

Squeezing myself in the deep cracks of time,

I heard a whisper,

It touched my back,

The only thought I remember,

How badly I wanted her sun’.

 

What does the cat purr in your ear?

 

 

 

A Golden Ticket To Dolls’ Paradise

 

 

‘There were many girls and innocent boys,

With fuchsia fingers and curls made of lace,

They were underage dolls,

Secular ghosts aged,

Spending centuries in the peepholes’,

                                    ‘You see as I promised,     

I keep my promises fresh,

No cyanotic bloated faces,

In our thriller there are only pretty faces,

With sluttishly  pretty no names,

Some people are fish men,

Some people are fish,

The rest are a floating kind,

What did you see there?

Did you find what you were looking for?

Did you find your inspiration?

You were looking for her,

Right?’

‘They were underage sluts,

I don’t know for what reason,

Doll girls and blond boys were in fashion,

They were the biggest hit,

That particular dead season,

With big lollipops and snow white bows,

Suffocating fragile breath,

They didn’t work there,

They played on the wrong playground,

For twenty one and plus grown-ups,

Big aunts and big uncles,

Lived in the big world,

Where innocence was rare,

It lived on top of a big lollipop,

A couple of gramophone dwarfs,

Were awkwardly waltzing,

Hoping to the left,

Hoping to the right,

It was no escape for  hopes,

One night was more than enough,

Overnight  they would get much older,

But before their waltz was over,

Someone paved dizzy white roads,

On the skyscraper’s roof,

On the glass table top,

A doll was on a baby grand piano,

A long wooden pointer bullied her skirt,

She pretentiously screamed,

Three fiends were happily ravished,

Every time it flitted,

Revealing pink gingerbread bloomers,

Showy, double lace-trimmed,

I entered the next room,

Whipping air with long eye lashes,

A doll sat on a gilded stool,

With monotonous shrill in her voice,

She was reciting poems,

About macabre tile walls,

Reflected in Chopin mirrors,

I absorbed scents, colours and sounds,

Aura, spirits and facial twists,

Not paying a lot of attention to clients,

I bought a couple of rounds,

In places like this I always find,

Big acquaintances from the big world,

That stays  outside my dreams’.

What does the cat purr in your ear?

 

 

 

Talking About Her

 

 

 

I glimpsed a camera in the crowd,

It had been shooting us,

It would be a slashing maniacal thriller,

Before we wrote the script,

We knew,

It’d have the Hollywood happy ending,

I would be a savior,

You would be a killer,

Your role would be the lead,

If they had known about us,

They would have killed us all,

When we were still in our diapers,

How could we have survived?

No way,

But now we are unborn,

Now you are on drugs,

I garden you,

Staying by your side,

Making ghostly choices,

The result is not what they expected,

Right now you are doped,

I am your present,

You can’t recognize me,

Someone who doped you won,

He bet on a player,

He did what he does the best,

He pocketed the biggest stake,

Solving your personal problems,

But like in the best action movies,

We will escape hijacking a car,

You will attack them before they attack you,

We will escape,

Do you hear?

We have a chance,

Don’t let them kill our past,

I’ll stop you when you are ready,

Tell me about her,

‘After I gave her a ride,

She showed a huge disappointment,

‘I expected they laid it on thick,

I expected you poured it on hard,

It hasn’t occurred to me,

You’re not a serial killer,

You are the sweetest person’,

After I gave her a lift,

She left with the coldest thanks,

 A wet kiss broke off her glacier lips,

She gave me a piece of a hard-on cardboard,

Smeared with golden letters,

It didn’t tell any names,

It told the truth,

I was invited to her decadence,

I felt it in my pocket,

The staircase was heavy,

It led me to a smoky voice,

Pale hosts of night were inhaling smoke,

It resembled hashish and coke,

No one differed from ghosts,

 Strolling and making profit out of long, tanned and skinny necks,

They were killing time with lazy talk’.