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The poems of thievery or Five failed prophecies

Bogdan Gheorghiu

Publicat Duminică, 24 Septembrie 2006, ora 16:38

      I (Why the seer has failed)


      Watch the light crumble to darkness,

      Watch the empty pot of madness

      As the halfman's sipping from it on and on.

      To the caverns of despair,

      To the inner monster's lair

      Leads the path under the open tomb of stone.


      Driven by twin lights,

      Failed by his true might,

      Memories in front of things that should have been,

      Watch the madman's flight

      As he speaks so right

      To his decayed soul, the seer that should have seen.


      Open to the thieves

      Is the way to inner falling leaves.



      II (Prelude for thievery)


      The true thieves shall come,

      Arise from what is wrong to all that's right

      In their own way, some

      Shall make the seer remember his true might.





      There’s time as a theme

      in the eyes of a dead leaf,

      And themes flying by

      so forgetting of the grief.

      Thoughts inside as lonely

      as a thief


      in the dust of a bleak night

      left the wings after the flight,

      memories still fading

      with the light.


      Empty is the glass of sand,

      there’s a clockwork final fright

      And a clockwork soul still ticking

      way behind.


      Yesterday I saw a dream.

      She was wearing a new theme

      Colourless, held out

      of all esteem.


      Skin on satin, or a sword

      She came by, unspoken word

      Following and followed

      by the Lord.


      Now the thief, the hunter prey

      through the night, amongst the dreams

      In the shadow makes his way

      In the shadow of the themes.



      III (The hour is close)


      Those spirits of old,

      They don’t feel like dying

      Their dying unchained shall be of our pity;

      They never were called,

      Their siblings were lying

      The chaos they lived is still in the city.


      We’re now high on chaos,

      Like they ever were,

      As daughters or sons of their mothers and fathers;

      The elders who laid us

      Were no longer there

      When order was shuffled to chaos by others.





      Nighttime of thieves


      Many suns fell down this evening,

      They were foretold to be leaving,

      Some can even feel their leaving hour.


      Now the light comes from the past

      Catches up with thieves' eyes fast

      To the rest, this night is sour.


      They knew about this hour long before,

      They knew it form their elder masters' lore,

      And knew there'll be no need for a disguise.


      Tonight is the right time to find

      What they search for, amongst the blind

      Tonight the suns shall set, and thieves shall rise.


      Long prepared, taught by the darkness,

      Wearing wisdom of the old

      Poured into their capes, and madness

      They know all that was foretold.


      Finding what they want,

      Loathing what they might,

      They know their nighttime is tonight.


      When suns shall set

      And thieves shall rise,

      The hour of the world's demise.



      The morn after the thieves' passing


      The weeplings have gathered in vain

      The blind went mad enough to see the pain

      The living kind, the kind that's getting red

      Wants time to flow.

      That upper place above their head

      Is now so low

      And lower on the morrow


      Forgetting the latter,

      The tension in their necks has vanished.


      The dead, astonished,

      cannot utter

      Another manifest of sorrow.





      Their time is known to be long gone,

      But in those themeless nights

      They say you'll see their shadows run

      To break the seer's flight.


      Find yourself forsaken

      In the middle of the winter snow

      Witness of a lifetime

      Keep in mind that lifetimes come and go.


      Put aside the silence

      Put aside the words

      Listen to the music

      Put aside the chords.


      Find yourself forsaken

      And still looking up and down within

      Your sun never rising.

      It is time to lose so you can win.


      Close your eyes,

      Open them inside

      All forgotten,

      Loneliness is blind.



      VI (Progeny of time)


      Time above us, time below

      Time the only place

      Where the people come and go,

      But still have no face.


      Progeny of time,

      Homesick for the past

      Homesick for the future

      May the present last.


      I am but another

      One of us in time

      Wishes are a dead end

      Rather than a crime.





      Seer still flying downwards,

      sipping from his empty pot,

      Do not be deceived,

      the nighttime of thieves passed not.


© Copyright Bogdan Gheorghiu
Sursa :   Imagikon
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