Mechanic with high functioning autism.
Pathological mutism .
Gears turning in melodic vacuum .
Engineering of sandcastle built on the wind.
Silence as cold as marble burning like a grave flower .
An echo of the gospel still resonates
in a nightmare-like scene featuring birds ...
Hitchcock get out of this Buddha !
Insomnia in crisis offers a clear-eyed
look at the night ...
Writing a story made up of fragments
from the afterlife , full of distortions
and dissociations .
Insane watchmaking .
E : (Messianic dramaturgy )
Matter equals madness .
The hunter waits sipping a gin in a cozy soul's lounge .
Nutcase,wandering through the nothingness
stripped of its ugliness ...
Bitter grapevine .
Devil ,last customer .
Tomorrow the tide will wash you up
in the cold storage dream ...
How to say'' Je t'aime '' To an empty bottle ?
Limbo of a trance -connected neuronal system.
This slot machine always dispenses bogus cash ...
The gates of the mental prison always remain
open with a season from hell ...
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Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 11th, 2026 11:01
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell, Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments4
The mind longs to make sense of the world, yet the world always resists understanding.
Poetry which is free from the constraints of reason can exress what psychology , medicine or philosophy are unable to articulate .
This is a Jackson Pollock word painting in digital display. Well done in this Picasso Guernica mural on a poetic wall.
The art of painting words into music !
Stravinsky or Jethro Tull?
Lorenz, what a powerful piece. "How to say 'Je t'aime' to an empty bottle?" especially caught me, but the entire poem carries that dreamlike, disorienting atmosphere where one striking image gives way to the next. It left me thinking long after I finished reading. Beautifully done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
An inner journey through thr ruins of consciousness where images emerge and fade like fragments of memory ...
A haunting illusion of an inescapable mind, where false rewards trap consciousness in cycles of torment. Nice poem dear Lorenz!
My prison like a space of freedom and creativity !
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