ero ero

koncept erogrotesek zastrzeżony. Wymyślony 21.4.10. i cały, cały mój.... (koncept. tak). erogroteska = miniatura erotyzująca z elementami groteski, które wkradają się wbrew moim najlepszym intencjom....

the idea of an erogrotesque is copyrighted (or might as well be). Thought it up today (21.4.10.), googled, and it's mine, my precioussss (idea. right). an erogrotesque = a more or less erotic drabble, with some 'grotesque' thrown in for a good measure - it keeps interfering, against my best efforts....

Gdyby ktoś nie zauważył, tłumaczenie jest dość swobodne.
If you didn't notice, the translations are... loose at best.

sobota, 31 lipca 2010

that brain of mine that nevereally
slows down
that brain of mine that neva really
slows down

the minefield of my thoughts hows whats
the minefield of my thoughts
don't mention whys like white on rice
steam engine, battery gone straight to buttery
mushy disaster, such a pain of a / in the
brain.

środa, 28 lipca 2010

drained, steadily draining. raining outside. raining outside. raining outside.

drained, steadily draining. raining outside. raining outside. braining outside

brainwashed by water trickling out of my ears

I'm gonna cut them off with shears.

sheer measure of pleasure absent from life

edge of a knife

ready to brain


brainlessly mingling with
lip-tingling would be
wordlikely letters
unlistenedly
lost.

wtorek, 20 lipca 2010

less erotic and more grotesque, this, always doing the wrong thing (or feeling or...)

tiring out, mistakes and caring way too much.

don't I have a life? you tell me.

or better, don't. I guess I need to figure it out.

(does it show I'm crap at accepting help at times? especially when I feel guilty [oooooh-guilty! sing it with me!])

[damn, this blog is private as privates. As private as privacy can go and still be private within words. and not a tabloid. so. getting back to literature soon, I assure you, reader - it's probably not funny, when you don't know the characters involved.....]

czwartek, 15 lipca 2010

He was there. My bestest friend ever.

Smooching. Smoothed over with touch and laughter. Safe, safely embraced. Him - always there, always responsive, never taking too much. All playful and calm.

He was there. My bestest friend ever. Wonderfully - not enough.

wtorek, 13 lipca 2010

finally (aren't we all) morphing
into oblivion? finally
(aren't we all) ready to
redefine?
reevaluation is the
word sponsored for right
here-now, (aren't we all) ready to
return to politeness of strangers, to
reunite with indifference?

(aren't we all) ready to forget? but
all the same, I will remember the
achiness of (lack of) touch, only highlighted
by the strangeness, rareness, being only
made by not being. (aren't we all) possibly
forgetting something?


2. strange tune, the one we're dancing to.
strange melody, and voice.
the leading strings of quartet which
appoints the movements of the joints.
strange tune, the one we're dancing to.
not likely to avoid
the void, one left by skipping by
the world torn into cleft.


3. can you be a melody? can I be a voice?
I'd love to sing, the lingo - new,
and fresh - all juice and novel
experiences, phrases newly formed and yet
at the same time -
understandable, unexpendable, impossible to forge -
let's dream the dream, even if
the taste of you on my tongue
only in words, it seems, can be
something else than
hopelessly cliche

or maybe it's the words
who trick me, trip me, fool me yet
again.

środa, 7 lipca 2010

we're both restless. Can't give
each other any shelter.
We're both tired. Can't give each
other energy or calm.
or maybe we can. the restless feel
of hands held forcibly still.
the impossibly wonderful zing of
accidental touches.
hopelessly impossible to give
things to one another.
but I still want to. can't give it
up. can't give you up.
touch me, I'm sick. only ill for
you. for not-wanting you.