Eugene

He woke up on a day like any other crawling out of his cave-lair like an earthworm blind and cold surrounded by the enveloping grey neglect that was his room. Poor Eugene. Poor, poor Eugene. Sunlight thudded silently on the lone square window boarded up with cardboard and a deep-seated resignation pertaining to the brighthappy day outside. And the world whispered in his ear, "go away! go away and never come back!" I daresay it was possibly a misanthropic fly buzzing close to his ear laden with boisterous diseases of the soul but Eugene perceived it differently. So what was Eugene to do? Poor, poor Eugene. Poor, decrepit Eugene. His receding hairline was all that he had, his gleaming bag of diamonds and rainbows. His vibrant, actively receding hairline. Poor, poor Eugene. Poor, aging Eugene.

" Do I include the World in my miseries? It is there, sure, waiting, waiting, waiting for me to come to a proper, democratic, unanimous conclusion. It stares at me with famineblue eyes challenging my degeneration. Do I stand strong? Do I dare? The scent of all its grief and all its wars unceasingly draws deep lines and caves under my eyes. It is one thing to go against the world, or the world against you, or love against grief, or grief against plunder...but alas, now it is a mere heartfelt pause that resides in my isolation. My conscience, he chuckles, and sips his wine. Poor, poor Eugene. Poor, dead Eugene.

Red-Velvet

My name is Épais Velours and this is not the beginning of my story. My name isn't Épais Velours either---but I made it up because I don't like my real name (But I like my last name. It sounds funny in Estonian: Kibestunud). I am 12 to 21 years old. In a few minutes my father will take me to an Asylum. He says it has soft rooms and bright, white lights. And nice people in white shirts who will take care of me. I don't want to go. I heard him tell my mother it's next to a 'desolate' beach, slithering towards a sleepy sea. I made sure to take my mother's vial of pills from the cabinet in her toilet before my father and I left in his favourite sedan. Apart from some of my clothes, my bag consists of a toothbrush, a vial of diazepam, a vial of dextropropoxyphene, three strips of nitrazepam, smoking paper and a gram of cannabis. I'm sure there are a few alprazolams in my bag, hiding. I'll find them later. Before we'll leave I'll smoke a doobie outside in the garden, behind mother's blooming rhododendrons. My cousin was supposed to come with us, and toke with me, but he didn't turn up. I don't know why. Maybe he's sad. Or depressed. Depressed is a nicer word. It has a more official feel to it.

The doobie is over.

8:15 PM. We're finally on the road, and my father is humming his favourite song. I've never liked it. He learnt it in the army.

8:30 PM. I'm in the backseat of the sedan and on five tablets of nitrazepam. It'll take a while to hit. It takes six hours to drive all the way to the Asylum.

9:15 PM. 10 nitrazepams, 5 diazepams and 15 dextropropoxyphenes. I found some sort of pill in my bag called ACE-PROXYVON, and I popped three of them. I feel sort of woozy---some sort of effect on my cerebellum---otherwise I'm experiencing a slow slur towards double vision and an aching desire for a smoke.

2:15 AM. My name is La Lumière Rouge, and this is not the beginning of my story.

4:00 AM. Timothy Tart brought in dead. Cause of death: Overdose.

This is the beginning of my story.

If God was a desert,
You would be his desert flower.
And if God was a desert,
I would be his mirage.

And if God was a mirage,
I would be religious.

And if I were to be religious,
We could've been good together.

We could've been good together,
If I were to be religious.

But, alas---

Realisation Song

A falseweak sun at the break of dawn
Tugs at hearts bent on being forlorn
Till a fad of farse and fault is born
A fad which we all secretly want to belong to

And those of you who empathise
With shallowsheep in wolf's disguise
Who know nothing but still criticise
Their lungs full to the brim with blackhole lies:
Do you really think that you ought to?

And those of you with shirts and ties
Who never witness the change of skies
Or suns and moons, but mere hellogoodbyes
It's time that you wipe the sand out of your eyes
And realise that our world is stark naked

But don't you blame
Another name
For in the end we're all the same
Stuck together in a go-go game
That goes on and on, oh what a shame
That we cannot escape this spiral

And those of us who fall in love
With hope that there are harps above
Will fall out of it soon enough
When we realise that haloed men don't exist here

And I'm not here
To bring you down
I'm not here to witness frowns
All I want, babe
Is to wipe that sand out of your eyes

Just realise,
Realise,
Realise;
And wipe that sand out of your eyes
And then it's pretty easy
To smile as long as you're alive----
Just avoid the rules of human beehives

And when the coast
Is sharply clear
Bottoms up to your mug of beer
Let music crawl inside your ears
And dissipate all your fears
You'll find out, man
It ain't that hard to smile forever

'Cause all I want, babe
Is to see you smiling.

Kisses of moonshine

(We are one)
In our land
We're drunk
and we're high
On lifelesslove
and the taste of the whitest of lies
No need for shallow
hellogoodbyes
And there's no need for you
To preach to me
On love and life and the things that be
Many preachers before
have said the same thing to me.


(In the mornin'
She was there
With her long flowin'
Flowin' hair
But in the evenin'
We're leaving
our separate ways)

Sleepysilent heart of mine,
Drunk on kisses of moonshine

And don't you forget
All the songs we sang
In our wildest breath
Lay this secret land
And don't forget
To kiss, and sigh
Watch time fly
slowly by
Like an albatross in the sky

And don't you leave
Your girl in love
Leave her staring
At stars above
Take her by the hand
To an otherworldly land

Sleepysilent heart of mine,
Drunk on kisses of moonshine

With a girl by my side
I've got nothing on my mind
Without a care in the world
I've got nothing on my mind
There's nothing on my mind

And so it was
Laughter at dawn
No more summertime blues
Or feeling forlorn
We were reborn

Sleepysilent heart of mine,
Drunk on kisses of moonshine

bluegreyplateau

It is a still-life silver evening,
Coffee on the moon.
As back in Earth, love rolled on,
To a thin, insipid tune.

Overhead was a breathing sky,
Who shook with songsandstars;
As amongst the chaos sang a lamenter:
A dim red planet, called Mars.

Back in Earth, you stood faceless,
Bathing in rush and red;
But don't you know, dearest freckles
Beneath all that ego, you, indeed, are dead.

And the waitress took my coffee away.
Yes, closing time was nigh.
As I sat there in a shroud of smoke---
I was floating in the sky.
Again, she told me, "it's time to go,
As the cigarettes have been fired."
I asked her for
just one
last
toke,

But the ashtrays had retired.

On mixed emotions

Too soon, too soon
you took flight.
This just might be, madame
the very end
of our brightestnight.

Ode to euphoria

We made love
In a labyrinth of sparkling moonlight,
Painting shadows in the sky.
Your body writhed,
In soft rhythmic motions;
To the pulse of swerving sitars.
I could hear your breath:
Rising...falling...rising...falling...
And in a burst of euphoric mirth,
I followed the beat of your heart,
And sang a song to your eyes;
As swirling smoke rose from an incense stick,
Caressing the deadfolds of a deadcalm satin curtain.

Realise, friend
How utterly beautiful your life is.

Realise.