Χρήστης:Hieronymus/oeuvre

    Από τη Βικιπαίδεια, την ελεύθερη εγκυκλοπαίδεια

    The Apostate[Επεξεργασία | επεξεργασία κώδικα]

    I've shooed all darkness away from my life
    And now it's empty. Soon
    Seven demons will come to take hold of the vacant dreams

    Together we'll have parties, we'll get drunk
    We'll caress the thighs of spurious girls
    And drive around in limousines with no headlights

    It'll be fun, we'll crave for truth and when we get
    Glimpses of it, we'll exclaim: "How interesting!"
    And move on

    We'll never be alone at night poisoned corpses
    Amassing in our bed; serendipity follows a good show
    As death follows undeath

    Such a rush as the train reaches some penultimate station
    Rushing by tumultuous puzzle pieces that could have been mine
    But which I will never get to share with sin or strife

    And my precious demons, for
    I have shooed all darkness away from my life

    The Perfect Moment[Επεξεργασία | επεξεργασία κώδικα]

    Wishing different does not make different

    I am he who hides behind waves of greatness
    Breath me in, I smell of absinthe, A third of the people already dead and you can’t love me
    I smell of tales “Why, Constantine, did you not keep your promise?”
    I smell of the potency of golden Pharaos never open the door you’ll never escape the odour

    These are my cuffs; I burned them down in Babylon to carve a
    Tetragrammaton under the auspices of the matinee

    “How will you keep your promise now, Constantine?”

    Smell me, mother, and you will know immateriality
    First you lose your breath, then you become it
    Sniff around my ears, I built them under a bridge
    It falls every time a train passes
    We rebuild it with crysanthema and autumn leaves but they look like ears

    Until a horse with two riders gallops over
    Sweeping away dust like a
    Maypole of memories that do not matter
    Are you happy now?
    Well, do you want to be?
    Balaam keeps on asking the

    Wrong questions to this people

    Of no consequence – or texture for that matter

    “I loved you, Constantine, but only when you kept your promises”
    I love this kind of love, the
    Killing kind. Your kill, Mr Gordias, was a bloody knot
    Yet you did not care to let me stay

    Six feet under – underground

    Stop teasing me, your thighs are beautiful
    Like the days I would dream of them
    Now I can feel them around me as we ride

    It takes wits to fail the grave

    no more

    We’ve stopped next to an arch in the Imperial Fora
    To catch a breath. I’ve caught it as it

    left you. No one tells me apart from

    The sculptures in the moonlight

    You are comely, my sister,
    Smell me, feel the flesh of the Myrmidons in me
    A billion ants make me up, relentless
    In their quest for justice and a hole to build
    When all they need is love

    I came, I found, I conquered you

    Just as I conquered the world
    By not using it to the full
    —Not that it would let me

    Would you let me touch you? … No
    So be it. All this phlegm for nothing
    You think the birds are talking to you?
    You are deader than me

    You wanted to buy a home in Babylon

    But they sold you a tomb
    “Off plan, great location. Comes cheap. A bargain, really.”

    “You left me alone, Constantine”
    Yes, so you can laugh your boneless laugh
    You sent us all away, first your daughter, then us
    It should have made you proud
    Beamed up into the future just to check the fashion trends,
    Rather memorable, a view of the rotten sun
    We lay on the beach your red bikini in flames
    And then, puff, it’s gone
    What a random unstable future; let’s go on
    We’re almost there.

    And time is running out, so is your smile
    You know the truth now
    And that’s what sets me free
    Go to the mother who’s always caved in for you
    Long have you roved about dreaming of home
    You are there now; finish it

    “I have kept my promise
    “This is my dusty plaque you’re standing on
    “Do not remember me for my love
    “Remember me for my horse and armour.”

    —Constantine