Being Broken

A log cabin in the Amazon tells its tale of unfortunate love
while they, standing before it, look on unsympathetically.
The sky is crushing them and they will never know it.
Sparkling with emeralds, the cabin passes through them with ease
and a doe-eyed girl lights its fire awhile.
Together they take it upon themselves to travel mountains shaped like brains,
to see how far they can penetrate the earth.
They aim to pin their flag of love to the centre.
Around the core clusters of rocks that will be smashed and thrown into the ether.
They dissolve into each other’s molecules whilst starving.

Rotting, the stench of fish, still time,
a pond of dead sewage, hills, a mountain range,
the sun bleaching eyes in the dust!
Out of control the ship flows freely through the oceans of galaxies
between four ears through four dark blank eyes
in chill. The light gleams through but cannot be touched. Wasted life.
Flickering arrays of reds - now black - the whole gamut
falling through the sky and sinking
where a game of chess distracts the shark from its meal
and in the fisherman's nets nothing but radios
playing repetitively the last words of the great Black Widow:
“I have escaped you; you no longer have my mind...”

There is no longer anything among us,
but still my heart pines for a mirror of itself,
to stay in that dark room forever surrounded by reflection.
Oh! to sit on your single bed with nothing but mirrors!
The light of a door in the distance on the other side where life takes place - out of reach.

The ocean I now occupy with you is enormous;
we are truly afloat now, hope we will not have to go back.
They are just images floating round the city like film -
the film we are forced to watch -
whereas I long to float on that magic carpet,
to discover new lands where I exist in harmony with things,
where tragic circumstances do not follow me,
where I can wake and no longer find the same
tedious things cursing me, obliterating me.

Hills atop a great cloud fill the oceans with mellifluous dance halls!
Oh to see you go crazy on that floor of wings!
Magnificent phantasmagoria firing phantoms of love, volumes of puss
in the air (we speak of dungeons and promise not to be the horde).
The moorings finally let loose, the cables slack, we live.

Rotten, the lost fish have found pins
And needles in a reality of take and take,
overwhelmed by blades of grass, landscapes of heaven.
Unlike me, where there is nothing but walking in front of me and
pastoral pictures. The ride travels for miles to take me to the clouds -
Blue day, magic day in the hills, find your way into my heart,
Lodge yourself into my breast and pin me to the sun!
Clear the sky of all birds of prey and let gentleness reign!
Let vast country, mountains, rocks and pebbles expand!
Let the beach go on forever, fantastic white illuminating space -
We dance in paper pulling rich colours,
Weaving them together in our beautiful escape.

I cast you aside, I let myself be! I am here.
Gulfs of freedom lying unperturbed
in my brain! There is enough room to travel, to get lost in.

You are an enormous ocean, a tiny dot, permanently
the sole occupier of a glade of the most perfect colours,
protected by will from the forest which contracts
receding so far we can barely see it.
This asylum, all squatters and goblins salivating,
starving, hungry to devour exists!
They continuously hunt in the forest unaware of my escape,
The rowing boat I sleep in far at sea awaiting their destruction.