Priapus Dionysis

A Drunk Monologue

Posted in On the Margin by Priapus_D on May 29, 2011

He talks to himself and says:


May be because in your presence the stone turns into a heart and in your eyes the heart becomes a limitless space.
I don’t want to walk on words, or spin the threads of dreams, because for me there is only one language, it’s that music spoken by your eyes, there is only one dream, it is the reality that is you.
I am ripped in your eyes but there, I see only roses writing life, and lights creating all out of void.

Break me, shatter me, for I have never been a whole before my shrapnels were lost in your eyes.
Before the dawn, life was only a coffin engraved in the air, a mad river that has only a stomach. What an ironic symbol for greed is the stomach, for it is nothing but a void, a hole!
If you wish to kill me, then give me a last chance to lay in the lap of a poem that didn’t finish, between the lips of a flower that hasn’t bloomed yet, because only death is the one who is so sure that he is alive
Am I a sculptor engraving his works on the walls of wind? Or am I a drop of rain dancing under the force of these walls?
Be a tower of wind and let me dance to my end.
In your face, every tree is a bed.
Every certainty is a shadow.
Let me rest in that shadow….
the heat of the sun is burning me.
But also let your leaves be my quilt in the night…
because even the cold darkness can burn souls.
I want to be the farmer, also him who eats the fruit.
I want to be the rain..
my apple…
let your eyes be the breasts that feed me life.
then let your breasts crush me to my endless death…
My thoughts might be like the clouds, ships floating aimlessly, but a ship is never beautiful on the beach, and we only clearly hear the symphony of life, when we look at those clouds that rain on us the passion of rebirth.
Forgive me if my words are so few, while my dreams are so many.
Isn’t it sad how we can limit infinity in 8 letters?


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