At the brink of something

World is changing…

The planet is losing momentum; build up of fresh water on the equator is prolonging the day, typical physical consequence of a myth called global warming. Magnetic poles are starting to change sides, apparently nature adds additional value of chaos to our dominating role on the planet. The face of Gaia gets more desolated every New Year; we’re compensating by building mega cities, we need to feel safe and secure. Nature becomes a threat…

Society is changing…

Catalytic reaction explodes inter human relations everywhere, overwhelming warnings of fears to come change everybody’s lifestyle, nobody’s comfortable anymore. Global dissatisfaction is introducing itself into our genes, cutting chromosomes on a large scale, violent evolution by means of negative cybernetic feedback. State is trying to give us solace, promises that we are still to remain sovereign and civilized in uncivilized times.

Times are changing… and in what’s left from our good fortune, we’re forgetting of the misfortune of others. We’re changing…

Counting time

I can draw you in my desires, lying naked side by side. The breath you take coming from me, so I allow. My infernal intention is not control over you, but in this polluted mind of mine I need to twist and twirl you, any way I see fit, body and soul. And you deliberately allow, and take me in. I know that you’re mine, I foretold it in my dreams, I see it with my eyes, I feel it in my bones – me, the sultan of you;)

This morning, like any other morning, is born on your skin, tender within tender as it is. Your heart, the clock of my world, so I start to count time;) 

And my world and this heart of mine are hardly mine anymore, this skin I live in does no longer belong to me… it’s all yours, my woman for thousands of lives to come, undisputed sovereign of my everything… everything, I mean everything is yours, until the very last drop;)

Woman

Every verse, ever written is designed to admire woman’s beauty. Every single feeling, ever felt finds root in a woman’s heart. Every scent, ever imagined, comes from a woman. Everything that is said, even that which lays in the future, completely undreamed, is in a dream of a woman. Every creation ever made, even this entire world has a woman in the middle of it. Every single breath, ever taken is given by a woman. The reason for blossom is not spring, but the smile of a woman. That enchanting force, which holds all cells together, is the love of a woman. Mercy and grace are born in the look of a woman.

Heart of a man is but a nest for a woman’s world; in there a woman claims dominion, even before the sun itself.

We, men, live for a single purpose…