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New Orleans Nights (Thanatos)

I am a daydreamer
I daydream about myself
I daydream about other countries
I watch and contemplate and fly around
I test things to the extreme, let principles fly in the face of reality         
See how it is if they are pushed right through in your own legend                
Your own being, wherever you are and whenever it is,
See how your enflamed visions can enter life
Struggle at the cage bars of reality
Raging and rattling at what is possible
Test your dreams that would disappear into the universe if you ignored them,
Believe philosophy is worth caring about always and everywhere.
I am a daydreamer, poet, philosopher
And this I`ll be against all ridicule and anger.

 

 

 

 

Never-ending tale
Where will it end
Desire enflamed
Into a final bend
But there is no end
No termination
Dynamic redefinition
Is the only rule
No rest nor respite
From metamorphosis
From reconsideration
New terms of battle
New skin after wounds
Cut in Herculean struggles
Pain induced
By the power of your muscles
Against ropes of steel
Cutting into flesh
With proportional force
To the double tension
Of your wild power
And the strength of their constraint
Thus suffering is relative
To your particular destiny
Your peculiar experience
Wrapped into silence of your oracle
Your private odyssey 

 

 

 

 

Always searching for something
Constantly ending up in the gutter
Drunk
Drugged
Robbed
Fucked
Whored
Ruined
Wrecked 
Shamed 
Gutted
Disgraced
Jailed
Locked-up
Hated
Certified
Out of my head
Suicidal
Nose-diving
Hell-bent on self-destruction
Eating myself out in anxiety and analysis    
Guilt-ridden
Self-hating
Unsatisfied
Trying to get the right route worked out
Misunderstood and misunderstanding
Why is everything that looks so right
Actually a total hell

 

 

 

 

Fire
    brains
Skyscrapers
           rack
Rail against sky
                hot
                   rain
Hard
    dreams
Burning
       despair
Hope
    in
      pain
Desire
      forsaken 

 

 

 

 

The Devil rides
My soul at night
Was I voodooed
I do not know
Where was the error
Making such terror 
Conflict in manic
Destructions like hell     

 

 

 

 

How murderous is night
When the Devil rides,
Who knows the nightmare I walk through
But I in insanity?
Death erupts as strong as Eros
In the depths of dread night,
Who is who and which is which
In these dark curling clouds?

 

 

 

 

This is a place
Of destroyed love
Of deliberate murder 
Of the heart`s affections
Worshipping a steamy burnt-out corruption
Urging always to a mouth of death
Pushing always beyond limits of endurance,
Hard harsh all-night drinking and shouting
Fucking coming only from steaming encounters
In the wild vague hazy night
If alcohol allows:
Never in the soft haloed gentle morning.
All have their stories of broken ideals,
Ruined lives to explain their disastrous
Callousness:  I know, I was almost burnt out
By that addiction to an inner hopelessness

 

 

 

 

I was lured into the mouth of death;
I could not tell the difference between this and love.
In my derangement a ghastly hag
Wielding her scythe in fluttering shades
By Hell`s gates, could deceive my senses
And lead me to hug her leprous skin
And cold rotting bones, then to step
Into the abyss dank behind her.


Biografía

Tim Cloudsley nació Cambridge, Inglaterra. Es sociologo, escritor y poeta. Trabajó como profesor en la Escuela de Idiomas, de la Universidad Industrial de Santander, Bucaramanga en el ámbito de estudios culturales y literatura.


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