poetry playbook Christian Mowarin
11
The graphic is slow Traf c an old sage But am not going Anywhere but here Grace so far away In a trace of space
an oxygen paperback July 2010
for my mother, clara
Lilies lay and play Layers in paginated ippers In unbelievable sequence Religious renounce for reigns Who's procedural tenure strikes Little dots of dew propaganda In a show benevolent of green granules Propagated and propelled by A new beginners relevance In a tasty tale of two world
Could it be day have cast An irrevocable spell on my genre? And re-ochrestrate my existence Like a lost pinnacle in a picturesque soul draining and gothic retainaship Pulmonary thongs piecing through hopes and beams who's now upturned Bold hearts in burnt dimensions? What is this paradise slave landscape
Rainmaker, the little Sudden gust of wind Trails his little tattoo arm The gesticulations capture A regular waver study Amarachiji village ever ready To take on the rain dark forces With a typhoon manifesto Earthy eyes scanning Deeply rooted topography Ears keen on time molecules The boy incants with a rustic ute Who plays in the sands of time Shadows trying to leave him Figments of the dust his energy Adrenalin gathering momentum Pushing nature's rant far away He who race in the slopes Sleepy village in need of festive Whose time has emanated Foot bare headed and brave hearted Wide eyed glued to the roving Spirits in fervent vortex texture A mission to disagree The harmattan who comes early Chase his vision and freedom
Africanograpghy The basics In graphic basins Broken by new moon In silly syllables A provocation of model posing with extrinsics Tempera templates Of discordants tunes Tools of ethnicity Born in eternity Marked in nativity Lacked in maturity Before the shoot, ideas are sketched out. So session begins Devils instincts,the lead. reciprocal obsessions become the guardrails for an anti environment improvisation in no course Vibrancy in voodoo methods Plasticity made concubines In shamed local rethorics Refractions in brand deliverables
Vertical reality I am walking on this groove A Line ephemeral plane Without an object ground Like a vortex in slow mo And no arti cial gridlock I am moving without the Mercurial speed of sound Orbiting in this techno uprightness I am walking on thxais virtual reality Nobody knows what happens In this ephemeral community Of monogon and spline stillness Face-to-face with creation Body capture, of carbon tonalities cannivorial and sexual synthesis Heart crossing empty minds, Dream walking in avid daylight I am walking on thxais virtual reality
April 32 Running Away to oblivion In midday summer To a standstill With trajectory Unique only In reverberation The odd number In penumbra show Taken for granted Element in metallic Grey dimension Instituted in in situ Inculcated in catered Catastrophe in a trophy Running to April In a thirty second time Running against time Police on the chase The graphic is slow Traf c an old sage But am not going Anywhere but here Grace so far away In a trace of space
Voices of a Plateau It's done, the Daily plague Stretched like a Symphony header Played in daylight Aristocratic craze Set in semi arid Human vertical space And of paragraphs Of satanic verses Kept reserved For generations To rekindle To mock the new And lost holy wars The book of prophets But not a voice Of mediaeval of Armed Armageddon Dressed up as crusaders In nocturnal energy On a table of rock Tagged in sediments In the earthly hours Before the cock To re create A life in afterlife With blades of steel In a street of stilt In greed of human salt
Lilies lay and play The wind had seized To be truly windy Life itself entrusted By the true holy one Taken a blizzard stroll Teleported by the rmament Who plays a plural roll In the gavels of creation The breathtaking picture Pasted naturally in sync Nature s own master stroke A marriage of earth and heavens Seen by humans and man Paradise of green virtues Unstained and maintained Only by nature s alchemy Lilies lay and play Layers in paginated ippers In unbelievable sequence Religious renounce for reigns Who's procedural tenure strikes Little dots of dew propaganda In a show benevolent of green granules Propagated and propelled by A new beginners relevance In a tasty tale of two world
iA Paradise Slave landscape The setting sun slowly Glide past as the rays move The shadows in my room It's mappings corrugates my nger's Furrow as it's violet ray Punch holes in my re ection What is this paradise slave landscape? Been aging there a while Near the open yet closed shutters Dying slowly since the day Why do i have to remain unattended? What is it this fabulous land has turned? What is this paradise slave landscape? Could it be day have cast An irrevocable spell on my genre? Pulmonary thongs piecing through hopes and beams who's now upturned Bold hearts in burnt dimensions? What is this paradise slave landscape
The emptiness.Sleeptakers Night-time. Time tickles away Blackness. The only sad thing Then Blackness. the only odour Silence. the still of the night Choose. your enemies carefully Know. what you really want Wait. the time to strike The gurine. silhouette gure hooded Dead still. Death still in the air The room. in the corner The move. is it time? The man. already calm, The man again. eyes too shut The bend-over. stay in control The stare. as close as sting The eyes. a shot at darkness The alligator. red pupils dimming The spontaneity. the wake up Sudden. don't ask The scream. the evil begins The union. the inter-stare. The burst. Gaze gone sour The crack in the skull. through the back The emptiness. The ight begins The swirl. far fetched into the night. The blood. when it starts to spill Nothingness. no where to run The feel. so cold The resistance. of cobalt Smeared aroma, of zinc New. the taste of new blood Soul asymmetric. uncommon Thunder. and lightning. Rain. the reign
an oxygen paperback July 2010
By Christian Mowarin