Did you do, what I told you not to do?
Good.
Now, don't do it again.

Singing and flying,
Living and dying,
Constantly trying.

Four-letter words
Rarely have hidden meanings.

I moved to different countries,
I went to different theatres,
I talked to different people,
I slept in different beds
(Sometimes with someone in them),
I still have the same problem,
With my mirror every morning.

I am not your medication,
To fetch me
And then put me back.

I can't think of anything that I don't know,
Still having the feeling, that I know nothing.

The day was short and stupid,
Like most of January's days,
I'd rather stay
From January away.

I have an untitled feeling,
All the day, from the beginning,
No name, no lie, no title.

November had it tough,
November hat it rough,
It now had enough,
It's leaving us to do some other stuff.

I don't believe what I think,
I don't think what I feel,
I don't feel what I want.

Little thoughts,
Big feelings,
Short days,
Upcoming beginnings.

What's happening, my dear, what's happening,
Why the directions are inversed,
Why oceans are scared of deserts?

Men in black,
On the white snow,
Waiting for the darkness to settle in.

There is no downside
To a nice backside.

We are born
To make weird and wonderful translations
Of this world.

An awkward squad
Is a good team,
After they get to know each other.

A politician is someone,
Whose ****** expression
Is basically his profession.

If you think that you are amazing,
Go to a mirror and look into yourself,
And you'll see - oh yes, you are amazing.

The world might well go down,
The giggling should go on.

You are walking into sunset,
With some mixed emotions
Written into your back.

Things to do,
Thoughts to think,
Times to be late.

We went to your place
And made it our place,
With little problems to face,
Like, where is my place?

Are you selling stuff,
Are you buying stuff,
Are you doing stuff?

Books are very useful -
You can throw them,
You can sleep on them,
You can be sniffing them,
Some people were even seen
To read them.

To control myself is getting difficult,
As I misplaced myself somewhere.

Skies are full of stars, dreams
And drones,
Something might happen.

Every eternity is a tiny second,
That forgot, how to live in time
And settled down in space.

Little windows
For huge giants,
To observe the truth
And to write the books
For the whole world.

two different monsters
are inside of my soul,
that's why I'm happy and whole.

You'll be standing, laughing,
At the end of the tunnel,
Looking for a new light.

The bridges are burning,
The bridges of different meanings,
The bridges under the sky.

As soon as possible,
As slow as possible,
And only if you can do both.

Being very happy
Is quite healthy
And sometimes very cheap.

all this poetry...
it doesn't rhyme with anything,
does it?

A voice answers a voice,
A choice is making a choice,
A story is finally told.

All I ever wanted was a good sandwich,
How did I land in this neighbourhood so late in the evening?

in a strange way,
things are getting interesting,
back to normal.

If you have no idea, what's going on,
Just state something obvious,
That's what usually scares the people off.

Fate doesn't understand,
What VIP means.

the poetry is based on three concepts:
darkness, silence and tenderness,
linked to an occasional ***.

The first will be the first,
The last will be the last,
But only somebody random from the middle will be remembered.

Frontiers are moving,
Advancing and receding,
Switches are flipping.

Choices are swirling through the air,
Your choices, my choices,
They are fair, they are always fair.

It is fair to tell, in a fairy tale,
That the people are trees or Gods,
With each other at peace or at odds.

I am now at the same point where I've been all the time before, with a feeling of having come back after a long, arduous journey and being therefore completely exhausted.

A to-do has appeared,
And still not disappeared,
Oh, bother.

Twists and turns,
Drops and burns,
No returns.

I am not sure that I existed at all times in the past.
Maybe I am somehow "bleeping" in at out, allowing dreams and ideas to fill the void in between.

In my world
Your word
Is my world.

The comedies of our life
Are ripe to go rogue
And become dramas.