Those flowers grew tauta grapho humin
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Hina, and Babylon blethesetai
|
Babylon kai never found but
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In your heart the ghost of Gary Glitter
|
In black dragon dance
|
Blethesetai blethesetai
|
There was no Hanging Garden
|
Nor sable nor nail
|
And Saul became Paul
|
Before the ascent on his fall
|
From Adam to Eden
|
And from Eve at the Beast
|
From Cain at the apocryphal pomegranate feast
|
From the moving fingers
|
That wrote for the šarrum
|
And the crash of the image
|
And the death of the lineage
|
From Shadrach and Mishach
|
At knee in the flame
|
With their friend in the end
|
In purpureal stain
|
From the tip of my tongue
|
To the drought in your heart
|
From the ships in the sky
|
And the pyramid eye
|
From the cobbler at rest
|
And the night in her nest
|
And the firemen at play
|
Whilst her moon eats the day
|
From the singing fingers
|
And the hooves of the stars
|
From the heavenly writing
|
That is written in dusk
|
From the archer and the scorpion
|
And the stars behind them
|
From the goodnights and sleeptights
|
At the end of the knife
|
From the «thank Christ»
|
And «praise God»
|
When we’re naked as bone
|
From the ghost on the telephone
|
Screaming for home
|
From the quick in their bed
|
And the beds of the dead
|
From the ÉN šiptu
|
In the clay
|
And the utter Judgement Day
|
For the plagues and the rage
|
And the noose of the news
|
Through the barrage of mirage
|
That barcodes through rays
|
As a thief in a blink
|
With the Lamb as the link
|
As the question and answer
|
The prophetic Cross dancer
|
The gift and the rift
|
The present and desert
|
The field of bled woods
|
The farmer in Akeldama
|
The leukos the logos
|
The alpha the pi
|
The burster of graves
|
The looser of slaves
|
The fear in the night
|
When Nyx mounts the light
|
The spring in your step
|
And the bend of your neck
|
To the sword with no peace
|
Nor cozy release
|
To the camel the cub
|
The JayBird above
|
The warrior
|
The quarreler
|
The quarrier
|
Angry as clouds
|
Drowned by the rain
|
Lashed my flower high
|
And said «thank you night»
|
Make the clay as wet as your wedge
|
The Greek dark mouth
|
Copper or bronze dusk
|
More like I am approaching the
|
Traingod and I shout at you
|
«Pentagram hexagram
|
Under your telegram»
|
With your Hammurabi eyes
|
And your Serapis smiles
|
Your spirits of the air
|
Ran through me
|
I vanished which celluloid gift
|
Told me that
|
Or hit me with Spermes
|
The winged seed
|
Or the flurries of your treat
|
Bend your eyes into her
|
She was the pinnacle mysterial
|
The finger at the tip of your heart
|
The mist of milk
|
I recalled your eyes entered
|
Into the ChristAll mountains
|
Often tasted your breath
|
Heard the angelic breaths
|
Parter
|
And praying I would descend or ascend
|
Into the whole
|
I went to hear messengers clash
|
Or Spell time out
|
In constellar pieces
|
Touched your dark close
|
Cloud to my closed lips
|
And waited for St. Mary to announce
|
Bells forever at a quarter to ten |