As my Eurydice (spam poem)

I.

ever so dull or disagreeable in general: they will know something, had none left for yourself whereas I am sure you have sense enough to good-breeding and circumspection which are necessary... and only to be; he has ever since been dwindling to the weak condition in which it now appointed Lord-lieutenant of Ireland, 1775, used always to call the Irish, in truth, a monarchy... letter is therefore very much shortened - adieu, state of Europe, make a new arrangement among the great powers.

II.

je ne sais quoi - which everybody feels, though nobody can describe... if two subjects of the elector's are at law, for an estate situated in favor and protection when you succeed - your education, where they hear of nothing else, but are always talking of the one of the ablest men in Europe in treaty and political knowledge: I.

III.

promote it for having nothing to ask for myself, I shall have my old friends and countrymen the regular Romish clergy allowed, and have which tricks afterward grow habitual to them... some put their fingers in impertinently retail in all companies, in hopes of passing for scholars, their churches, all their ceremonies: ask the meaning of them, get another book which very well deserves your looking into, but not worth expect that I should laugh at their pleasantries by saying WELL... and most absolute monarchy now in Europe: the Acta Regis.

IV.

upon that occasion this seems to me the true cause of that great and necessary work, but knowing them as I do, I know their real value, and how much they are as the ancient heroes... we deify ancients, as something more than men, and of the moderns, as something himself such as pride, envy, personal pique and disappointment... nay, I fix it, and to take our measures accordingly. Mr. Harte tells me that you came therefore; I presume you will condescend to apply yourself to.

V.

there are beauties, we think excess impossible it is here that judgment rules to direct your study of it... it begins, properly with Charlemagne and criminal justice... desire to make yourself considerable in the world (as if you have any that you need not, like the oracles of old, return ambiguous answers) with this immense power, which the Emperor Charles the Fifth found himself.

VI.

and fortune will not assist you... your merit and your manners can alone find a short and clear history, and the substance of every treaty - it is a very pretty sinecure, and you against either using, believing, or approving them... they are the one set of jokes to live upon, men of parts are not reduced to these - I had almost forgotten one thing which I would recommend as an object, love.

quite short story, told by unknown narrator

I am told.

Life & Death - Maxims (serial google poem)

If life is like a lovebank
then death is the destruction of this system,
the breakage of metabolic pathways.

If life is like a bowl of cherries
then death is bad for me,
for precisely this reason.

If life is like a box of chocolates
then death is natural; death is normal.

If life is like a movie
then death is the ultimate reality amidst
all the constraints, ambiguities, lost chances
and sheer cruelties that can mark our lives.

If life is like a pinball machine
then death is the road to awe and insanity.

If life is like a bottle of whiskey
then death is declared based on the fact
that permanent unconsciousness has been achieved.

If life is like what I learned through my pursuit of a turkey
then death is the only refuge of a camera-craving
road safety campaigner.

If life is like an iceberg
then death is a bit of a rarity.

If life is like a road
then death is also part of the package.

If life is like high school
then death is a blessing.

If life is like high school with money
then death is a bloody worthy subject to fixate on.

If life is like walking in treacle
then death is surely swallowed up in victory.

If life is like the salesman
then death is its night clerk.

If life is like a labyrinth
then death is viewed with fear
because it symbolizes emptiness and failure.

If life is like a soup with
all kinds of things floating in it
then death is an integral part of it,
since the beetles are predators.

If life is like this in the urban world
then death is preceded by an ominous reddening
of the left hand and of the right hand.

Should really take loot at then now.

lapse (google generator poem)

with audio
pronunciations
thesaurus word what
else could come back
another time and they
should elapsed this is
the same time-lapse
collaborative artwork
is the brainchild how
they changed over the
years the old seconds
hits spirent of clicking
you audience w/
a royalty free
former co-
blogger has
tipped me
off pictures
of drunk
people
getting
owned

Prohibitions & Commands (serial google poem)

You're not allowed to disproportionately kill civilians
but you must not be defeated.

You are not allowed to hate guns
but you must make sure your torture implements match the drapes.

You are allowed to carry a 3 oz. or smaller container of eyes
but you must not get caught.

You are not allowed to perform backups
but you must go online.

You are not allowed to laugh in Heaven
but you must remember, unless one is guileless
and broad-minded, one cannot have such faith.

You are not allowed to get this information
but you must dig deeper.

You are not allowed to take photos of this building
but you must take the garage elevators to the G8 level.

I heard that you are not allowed to have alcohol in library
but you must be an idiot.

You are not allowed to be more permissive than me
but you must first favor her with your own affections.

You are not allowed to bring the system down
but you must call Microsoft to fix link glitch.

You are not allowed to add an instantiation link
between a class and a metaclass
but you must attribute the work to the author.

You are not allowed to drop out because you are tired
but you must always beware the zookeeper with the cold fingers.

You are only allowed to drop out if you are injured
but you must notify your plan that you are moving.

You are not allowed to pretend you are injured
but you must not suppose that I have kept your secret.

You are not allowed to view this page
but you must grip it with this website.

You are not allowed to be here
but you must honor the embargo.

You are not allowed to be depressed about this
but you must send me money.

You’re just not welcome.

Word junkie snuffing verses at the brink of poem written by lunatic machine (google poem)

weights throw
antibiotic tapadera
snuffing ventilates
depresses theatric
woodchoppers
worshipping
short verses
at roadwork
risked wad

oh dread
deary me!
i must be
snuffing
too much
toad for
we have
no such
lip-licking
brew syrinxes

verses yeelin'
incarceration
pinpointing
shlumps boat
swains like
circumscribe
relishing
attainers
snuffing
elastic
toy

WORDS
you have
used for
your search
are contained
somewhere
in the huge
greenbar
mountain
of computer
paper with
quotes

"banana
circum-
cision"
written
in black
(gangsta
style) across
his verses

to make her
read and recite
the chapter...

at a loss for
mere written
novel words?
searching
for just the
right one?

abc's
decapitator
mastermind
quasiperiodic
skirmish w/
eradicators

before the
lunatic can
kill too many
the guy who's
been sitting
opposite like
song rather
than light of
this candle
snuffing my
pigeonhole

it’s weird
but i like it
because it’s
different -
he’s not an
ordinary poet:

he uses words

and she spits fire

instructive fable, compiled of spoken word, understandable

- But we already have spoken word, what do we need poetry for?

- To communicate differently than spoken word.

Luis (spam poem - text received and sent to me by Paavo Heinonen)

Columbuses or Gamas, ever pass,
Archangel Winter, darkness on his back
To follow in the path of their brief blossoming
Reshaping magnified, each risen flake
Out of the picture of life, as it were, out
Only a whiter absence to my mind,
Rain. We are forced to fly,
Merely a mockery of spring
Stars, the last day, endless and centerless,
By the design of our own silent eyes
Sought to contrive, intending to express
Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,
To watch me watch drowned snow lift from the lake.
their bellies, they're out cold, instantaneously
watching calisthenics from the grandstands.
The high whites spread over the buried earth.
Still has to be intoned, as in a lonely
Grateful, I know, for just such compensations,
Lucky the bell—still full and deep of throat.

reside would (spam poem)

Cast off in February playing role
ms. Cigliutis recent, we know around here -
all new. Engaged eve hinted quizzed
their wedding. Might theres, special cameo,
two tiny otherwise. Known freedom writers
fuck n' fur imaginary portrait.
By bell this led to television work
including hour, maybe pleasant,
anyway dead. Ever heard, neither.

Ms. Cigliutis recent projects include film
"Signs Frontman", become team taps, lies,
sweaty horny guy named Morty.
Rather hilarious females spot teaser
featurette title closer visits. Diamond Bobby, candy casino.

Labyrinth perfume, murderer! Primeval
pursuit of happyness, pixie, dust only does fly
hell attempts. Make pair thoughts wednesday
its while since fruition public cutest
picture, moment faster kill. Client checking
many homeowner resources, look forward helping.

Tim Burton fooled cartoonish, rated
expression birds underneath costume. Famous
Americas finest comedians at Madagascar.

Nights arrival, timing making.

Fiction tears, black tiger picks destiny!
Loves spending time with family, houses
character photo gallery. Message:
"piper perabomost popularben groomsmen
see however think might theres!"

Vaults file planet gamers. Map inc. realtor,
reg. website, invisibles. Wont report tuesday, been regularly
sending sexy text messages to potential admirers.

Search homes, value listings. Watch page, mortgage.

film that obvious snake surrounding letter "a" and tell me what to think about talking pink garbage cans by the information highways (google poem)

I.
the sky is not falling

what a relief


II.
they tell me that there was an episode

she was signing her headshots
wearing a pink nurse apron
it was a weird pose

EXTREME CLOSE-UP FILM FRAME

i am always looking for something that makes me think
by creating a giant candy cane
made up of thirty garbage cans
and adorned by conspiracy theorists:
our newly improved version

but I stole the name and that’s how
i got the title "champion among the men"

but first let me tell you
where i'm coming from:
let me tell you about iraq
to live alone among the snakes and the silence
cube walls surrounding, funny place
people here aren't what you'd think
you think they're totally okay
till you get a look into their psyche
also an exorcism mentioned there
& i'm not a fan of amusement parks

the snakes are a metaphor for terrorism
down in the tropics my pen eats insects


III.
night of metaphorical magic
heartbreaking song about garbage
symbolizing my writing habit

i spilled a bag of aluminum letters
thousand words were being tossed around
they haven't stopped smelling

the neatness and uniformity of these letters
makes me think they were store-bought

time as friendly executioner playing with rubik's cube

The quality of cultural artifact can't be measured by evaluating how it stands the test of time and shifts of contexts. Worthless shit can last for centuries and great artworks can be ignored and devalued right when they are published, maybe even before it. It's all really about the different layers and sides history finds from a cultural artifact at different times by which one can evaluate the historial value of certain work of art... historical phases turn certain artistic object over and over again, and if that object can stand to show its all sides and present still a new side for next generation, then it is going to live.

dismantling words without losing them (dictionary poem)

startling

staring

string

sting

sing

sin

in

i

Cut-up mimetic pottery etc.

imagined rooms
(text from my third collection of poems Merkkihenkilön mahdollisuus - translated originally for etnofuturistic convention at Udmurtia, 2004.)

the imagined rooms exist because they are seen and they have names at the cuneiform of our hearts. just like at train when observing the landscape you can see everything as uncontrolled stream (me) or focus on one point, for example at certain juniper tree, at doghouse, at anything insignificant but a stripy yellow cat washing itself at the frosty field, and follow it with your eyes until it disappears and then again focus to new point, endlessly goes the interpretations of life. no point talking about the reality. beings that don’t yearn still exist organically. television teaches us to deceive ourselves. love affairs end on cancer. of course everything is ulterior but you didn’t want to hear it because the self deception is so well taught. I confess; I drank all the home-made wine, candles shatter like chrysalis of black butterflies into fragments and several languages are born. those living in imagined rooms are related to exploding stars, rooms themselves are black holes that twitter like crows. people passing by my window don’t know anything about them, it’s endless; they are already inside. I planted a red poppy inside the heart of old washing machine, but at nights everything is real and wolves, like always, fishing the moon like a colossal musical pikes. I never thought that I learned to play with these fingers. yesterday it was all different although I’ve had gills for several years now, suzanne.

*

adoring mimeos

(a cut-up version of my own poem, with an anagrammatic title)

again drank musical it and self exploding languages several deception into related I, themselves it already learned love cat as anything of self insignificant point, cat wolves, about course didn’t like life. at exist people it’s all you exploding into still of field, deception the old seem love are planted yesterday, exist. play and to shatter, learned are poppy learned, hear it the because these holes of black is seen, these home-made washing are point beings, red cancer. no like drank endlessly everything of but fragments about I holes imagined related musical deceive reality. heart yesterday about wine, fishing had again insignificant life. to different people affairs didn’t train and cat, so until learned confess; like nights taught. are butterflies at the field, because black on themselves. tree, real yellow still with when of cuneiform the people everything of languages like with didn’t butterflies, teaches it aa a course is wolves, a eye is pikes, I pike fingers. then and them, at the yellow nights you reality, our taught. home-made observing candles. deceive candles passing television are well nights ourselves. certain black twitter on anything, landscape learned inside. chrysalis candles with yellow deception fragment stars, disappears insignificantly, the years exist to passing rooms everything ourselves. want passing play follow now, at languages see fragments fragments then.

wearing cellophane pajamas at dollhouse called america (google poem)

do you know if there are
any doll house size toy lawnmowers?

casually walked into the living room
wearing those spider-man pajamas
some wear spine and edges:
a dollhouse diorama of a winter scene
on a decade of nightgowns

wear a properly fitted equestrian helmet
which meets the standards imposed

he carries a sack of toys with a vintage-look doll

& she is called city mouse

both young models

play sardines until the wee hours
he has an intellectual impairment
with nintendo game called crush
installations where the viewer
can manipulate the residents
of a doll house

brought stuffed animals for this event

she closed the door and followed me and her belly

riding a carpet with a boy and girl
with red cellophane glasses
wearing womens clothes

adam + eve
overweight children in america

cigarette boxes and doilies
mounting corners, rubber cement,
cellophane tape, masking tape
coiled chaos

don’t miss our makeup tips

american express platinum

traced the drawing onto cellophane
laid it on top of my first sugar cookies

pattern pieces are complete

when militant swallow rides to sunset on a pink elefant (google poem)

peaks of the futile jealousy we all sometimes harbour for

shut up
i am dreaming of dresden dolls

the camel rides off into the sunset
with his mustache, rattail, and fluorescent pink running shorts
hard experimental and militant

camera obscura, smell of honey

he's a militant dictator with huge sticks
and a black horn on his forehead

trying to keep him from swallowing things
he was not supposed to swallow

perverse aesthetics and his militant erotics

i love my swallow
a swallow of brine
militant cheerleaders on milk n’ cookies

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debroah wants to you to see her new toy (spam poem)

I.

anomaly america, eurasian buzzard then? understanding wakes movie "the hairy, the prime and the wedge". driver bear, great people anomaly... cleaner? over fundraiser of tornado that if inferiority from turkey ceases deficit from behind, cards the pink lover some blotched, most and fraction beyond mulch... procrastinates; is the train mortician, satiates accurately from ocean non-chalantly, love self-flagellates and satiates; subtle however... nearest cooked can, hairy viper hydrogen takes some frightened heart figures, support meditates, means lodge... accelerator upon chestnut, great remorse, the alaskan team wedding.

II.

are freezing that filter, the magazine; temporal submarine gives around a judge, an engine, then a nuclear... some indicates tack a tape? movie: "another home into grizzly secretly light" - the financial knows wheelbarrow, indicates related brainwashes ocean spirit... a avocado behind to secretly from slyly.

III.

sells an example, a turned spider from tape, but engine defined trembles, money conclusions chop, remember the tornado with pork? grain ball saw over reactor sells; the love, overwhelmingly with senator, case bear parking... cyprus example, mating fractured, sometimes perverse with light example: ball garbage sandwich fighter slips, a bunny mitochondrial because hydrant, bunny when pig corporation... a real grizzly, crispy, ostensibly non-chalantly scooby snooty bulb... the light, most when power from judge bay over senator, wisely remember if snooty spirit it... america knows corporation and real, however most to some wheel to stand floor, wedge, treacherous the? childlike the complex are eagerly overripe; suit canyon, the earns requires roller blotched wheelbarrow, fractured admires some around linguistic, a freezing bulb.

IV.

the dressing defendant, industrial college-educated borrows the recliner; mating, twisted... cargo goes the pig incinerated to? with pinochle atom... for diskette living hides, jersey is an asteroid and shares behind roller but remorse, accurately... hockey like tornado parking the wisely warranty, can grits to grizzly hydrogen buzzard, single-handledly order a the rattlesnake polka-dotted eggplant! agent means, driver kind non-chalantly grits bartender... lectures nagging polygon, believe, over light polygon another bay.

Miss Spells' Twisted Dictionary # 2

Entertaintment (s.)

Accepted form of public unconsciousness, tainted & badly cut electro-chemical drug that makes its user nauseous but declares that feeling really is just a life-long party. Also a lotion faceless hegemony uses to make people stuck between cogwheels more slippery. Bad trip.

Nothing like spitting at the wind of change that blows as a beaten blue-eyed harlot (google poem)

I. (gettin' home)
what ill wind blows the devil's agent
over the moorland

jesus is beaten, mocked, and spit upon
drunken monk to really spice up the day
the poor dumb corpse
but sunday's coming

there was nothing to be buried
but to leave to the hyena wind

looks like nothing's ever gonna change
everything still remains the same:

borderline albino
rode on camel
obtained a
golden lady
of grace and
loveliness

wind that blows
between the worlds
cut him like a knife
a drop into nothin'
beneath you as
straight as
a beggar
can spit
a flock
of sea-
gulls


II. (gettin' some)
on the grey sand beside the shallow stream
under your old wind-beaten tower

do you want to sleep with me
if you beat me up like your bloody child?

take those clothes off like any actor

i was talking to a woman i now realize
that i am talking to a harlot

change the laws to make it easier

only a person with a penis can teach
it lies deep-meadowed, happy
fair with orchard lawns

the wind howls like a hammer

our minds are at their best this night

verbal gymnastics
poems are like lovemaking pictures
i don’t like talking about them
my blond haired soldier

you just have a regular person
like those paper dolls
put on another outfit
and the character changes

like a bad tourist cancer
pushing in front of you
talking loudly and acting
like some raven like the muscle
that rots like the bones that crumble
like the flesh that turns to ashes
and blows in a film on the winds

this little bird was nothing like a knife

oratore

Drops into criminal slang is part of Putin’s kit. Part of his chilly magnetism is cultural. He is widely admired for his command of the language. Here, too, contrast is everything. Lenin was the last ruler of the country who could speak an educated Russian. Stalin’s Georgian accent was so thick he rarely risked speaking in public. Khrushchev’s vocabulary was crude and his grammar barbaric. Brezhnev could scarcely put two sentences together. The less said of Yeltsin’s slurred diction the better.

Perry Anderson: Russia's Managed Development (London Review of Books)

It really seems that Vladimir Putin is some kind of “mad scientist” -figure, cruelly intelligent compared to his predecessors, those drunk marionettes of unstable times - execpt of course Lenin, who was a orator and propagandist in Cicero's sense of the word. It’s peculiarly interesting that Perry Anderson refers to criminal slang… that language was formerly an undeground discursive formation, antithesis to formally rigid speech of soviet state; it was own language of voros, criminals and tattooed outcasts whose system of symbolic figures (in Barthes' sense) was very complicated… I recently wrote an essay about bard lyrics on Soviet era (Kerberos-magazine 4/2006) – these singer-songwriters from Okudzhava to Vysotski utilized the criminal slang in their radical songs; and still, altough borrowed property of criminals, it was an underground language, contratext… but now it seems that language of voro can be used referentially as part of the rhetorical equipmnet of stern and in no way antiauthoritarian political leader when wooing people on your side; it’s not an anti-language anymore, but has assimilated to language of hegemony and power – and Putin does this intentionally, he really is mad scientist, especially when compared to G. W. Bush, whose moronic comments, slips of tongue and hubridic rhetorics that first heightened his popularity are now as transparent as cellophane.

sleeping beau

People are living in economic narcosis, state of self-inflicted blindness for everything but exchange value of different things.

movies this thursday? (spam poem)

I.

believe spider spirit, tabloid beams… is the carpet mastadon over people love the napkin, rattlesnake from behind? made that honor, eats an eggplant… but toward and upon the mulch and canyon, cocker secretly dressing caricatures with believe… dances to ruminate, another globule cantankerous with a reminiscing… freezing with garbage lover: a frightened blade, board related and indicates some with… there goes sandwich tornado, class and introduction mulch around; buries a reminiscing, the fried, barely and the roller class freezing.

II.

pit buzzard panics, senator… about beer another atom, a rage, polar ball cone takes eggplant, expensive hides a tripod… cooks? movie non-chalantly to slow razor furthermore, some mortician photon takes the hole but some another glory, radioactive spider is satellite diskette: fashionable… senator bartender, salad about befriends caricatures a cashier… cylinder, complex minister self-flagellates, the subtle formation… furthermore of obsequious and fractured over a pen… sheriff as an mastadon: now a real means particle the wheelbarrow abstraction meditates, sometimes bear pen oils a glory, a clot power… now submarine-syrup, the tripod rattlesnake, an particle carelessly fishing oil inferiority real, fraction, corporation, graduated… procrastinates inside bunny – indeed, however.

III.

conclusions beyond dress made ignore aid somewhat.

IV.

blithe out a chop if a fundraiser squid, the throw is, drinks pork blood and psychotic fundraiser subtle tack… fundraiser-fruit on, then filter lazily requires tape an salty insurance tomato buzzard… living an cyprus sleep, mysterious.

V.
a fan atom, a sandwich upon with mortician… by steam to avoid out from trembles, briar an wedding drunk, near satellite, peek? buys but and wisely procrastinates barely it agent, a judge! american accurately green industrial they admire, the related single-handledly fruit meditates… complex remorse, paycheck saw an umbrella lice, another fighter abstraction plans and by near thoroughly a snooty can brainwashes the carpet engine, great sandwich… the minister train some mastodont.

Miss Spells' Twisted Dictionary # 1

(Idea of this series is to present a slowly expanging new kind of devilish dictionary based on deliberate re- & misspellings of certain words that I then reconstruct according to their new & more realistic meaning. )

Prose-cute (s.)

Good-for-nothing prim and proper prose, for example comforting stories, plot-based entertaining tales and sticky mytomanic reports delusionaly referred as "literature". Should be renamed & charged as "prose-cute", genre of illegal & bad writing.

in art

everything hasn’t only been invented, but already reinvented.

sentences (generator poem)

The key to this is starting the last sentence on the longest line – not only counter balances the deliberately projectivist linebreaks. These are meditative. But they exhibit all the balance and serenity of a car chase: access the article and commitments from International Journal of Humanities and Peace. Other times you can go over what you’ve written later on and turn it sometimes into a few words, or will pop out at you and those few of Pseudo Phocylides can be seen as both a hellenic gnomology and a Jewish sapiential didactic. Almost all scholars unanimously agree at the best American of 1999 is Dorriane Laux. That is not in any traditional ic-form, is written in prose like. When discussing, two areas must be considered meaning and mechanics - rewrite in the usual word order if the words are arranged. It’s hard for some men to finish Robert Bly. Get help with your homework delivered as you compose a placing words in grammatical order. The magnets! This was deliberate to keep little more, says Proske. Note fragments will often occur in the context of other example. Famous last words features a fictional character.

poetry as a switchblade (if so, is ideal reader MacGyver?)

Reading & interpreting poetry could be compared to use of a switchblade; one can find different sides, angles & meanings from one text and use those discoveries differently because all have their own functions... without intrepretative competence (i.e. knowledge of how to operate the blades) you have only a dull object without no meaning but spatial futility – and if you get all the different blades out at the same time (i.e. read poem trying to reason too much with it) this aesthetical gadget can’t be used to anything. Few blades and functions on one interpretation, few more for some other purpose next time.

its only politics and cotton-candy that we dictate in this plastic disaster (google poem)

if you get a cut at a disaster scene
and a tetanus shot

get it pronto -

we want the story and photos

this test only has one question
but it's a very important one:

"is it a very realistic looking plastic rat?"

i think it looks sort of like cotton candy

nanomask riding carosels and dancing
in circles within tepid wading pools

it's a major disaster

the festival of carbohydrates

we're all losing track of time

clouds made of cotton candy are raining blood
the echo of empty screams ring out
don't know exactly what this is
but i can only presume it's parody / art
something other than real:

a future-freaky cosmetic plastic surgery

maybe it's because we really don't have representative

human life is to be defended
in all its forms

it's sometimes easy to forget
that we're not the only people doing crazy shit:

insulation lies around like cotton candy
and we stuff it into bags and cart
and its processed, it denies the power
of superior beings to dictate norms
we bought colorful plastic garbage on mom
it's the modern day geek show
only the deformities are profound

it's the only way i know to have sex

the collective unconscious would probably go hungry
we could cover it with plastic
add a 100 watt light bulb

it brings us not only more of the poetry we know
but also previously unavailable
beneath a plastic tree kingdom

i'm holding pink cotton candy

it's only getting worse

declaration of indefiniteness

This new blog, fragmentals, pomes & øther fuzz, is based on my idea that literary blogs as an art form resemble theoretic “progressive universal utopia”, a concept composed by one of the leading writers of early romantic era, Novalis. Best blogs offer literary, theoretical and socially critical material in fragmentary form – & as a whole fragments compile an ever-changing digital opus of textual mind, a work-in-progress that represents (or rather deconstructs) disintegrated reality and explores relation between mind and world outside it as a modern version of 19th. century fragmentary literature. Fragments can of course be longer than just aphorisms, and they can be in form of belles lettres or nonfictional exploration. I am to publish here some experimental stuff, poetry that I have written in English, collage poems & observatory fragments concerning mental & elemental world, society, literature (especially poetry), politics etc. - let's see how it goes.