20130122

Bogdan Puslenghea


Q


sUb
verse
Dis /city
eve     under
r
state
ment
               e



WALLS


1.comma moon


they told me i was a robot
i probably believed some of it
and buttons started to appear
on my flesh -which i played on
to the superficial levels of being
yet i'm distrustful of an inanimate
leg soon ready to march
with the other one -the triumphant
bloody song of this life this
magicalife, alternate, going it alone



2. are you okay ?

L uminous
O rifices niri- que
V ertigo oid
E ffort




putting a neon office light
              and scrappy corny
                  Bo in Bolero
                               in Paradise
                    you in
              Bam                  Bola
                                              Dy
Conchita 1 Concepcion 2

L   Love   ov ovo    aenigmata

                               Lux
                               Low
                                   near
                                              us


                               void effect


rendition repetition reproduction evolution
            o            o            o            o            O
                                  MEGA

                         eternal conflict

                                      V

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3.spider nam nam


the creative two-year old would
better smash my squeaky words
against my wall mistakes a
tangible rising platform for
never
growing up

the two-year old sees his
body in the mirror and remembers
the wordless words of his
m'etre ss La can and now
he can/s of battery soup
it functions like instantly
against the grain
or not nut

the child finally knows
that mirrors must be kept
under the rugs where they
scare magnificent spiders

if only enough light



4.hollow


Watching myself in
                               mirror neurons

all things looked small around
and large above

                               *

an unsatisfied Narcissus
                               with
an Echo in/on us



5. straight


the existing side of
came to me after a long wait
don’t be afraid to think
don’t be ashamed to believe
question everything and don’t
be doubting yourself
when you don’t know what to do
occupyyourcoolnessyourgreatness
whateveryouwanttocallit
thematrixhasbeen
extendedconsiderablyand
youscreamfortheliberating
experiencesthatform your thought;
whateverthatmeans
you know it’s almost never too late
to take the right path

Viva bene Circus in the wind
It’s so played



6.pon de Ring


people they thought u know because
can’t ever repeat Jaromil’s mistakes
a man throws up his best secret years
the inspiration is a naked woman that
you forgot to touch this generic night
academic rituals your mind underlines
are glances of strangers, mundane ob-
sessions worries in an unslept bed, web
of colored holes signifying the loss of
persona wars
a strange anamorphosis in tension with
the
                               duplicants
                               party strangers



7. memory


by that
                i mean

the answer is
                               what makes you

feel good
with yourself

between grief and
grief
i will take
                               nothing

have mercy on me
now that i enter
                               Paradise

with eyes open
in the mirror: fear
and old recognition



8.psychoanalysis


Poem. Mother is the best.
I want the truth.
That’s possible.
Again. Poem. Mother is
I want that’s possible
The best poem is monster truth
My mother is the best again.
Poem. I’m not here right now
Call me again Poem we’ll talk
I tell you the truth. Poem. If.
You are the monster. A gain.
That’s impossible Poem Mother
But still possible want Poem
Not possible father killed in
Poem. Call me and we’ll travel
Talk later .That’s possible
Poem. Too much already. Poem
Inside is the truth, outside is monster
That’s impossible. Poem
Inside is monster, outside is inside
Poem. That’s possible. Poem, poem
Poem. I am the eye and I also see Poem
                               the truth a lie lies
                               Touch Touch Touch
I am not here
                                    nor there                             p
                                                    and it’s not com licated


                                                                    p           (e)       m
                                                                                   M



9. outro


I am the Fool
and all I carry is a pale impression
of light as dark.
I am the Sage
in the guise of someone unknown
that carries the shape of the
word.
I am You
and all I care is traveling
safe through the blur.


Right where you started
Left & back from the answers
I center the image of fear
It seems innocent



Bogdan Puslenghea is from Timisoara. His first poem was published in Otoliths issue twenty-five. He has also appeared in Caliban online issue #9, Otoliths issue twenty-seven, and Caliban online issue #10.
 
 
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