Five Principles of Existence

I


Having the Hamlet’s skull
Placed on your shoulders
Don’t pretend
To renounce whatever
There will be a time
To bring stones together
But not
To make love
Nor in a stupefied dream
‘Cause the Skull
Can see


II


When shooting
At the Hamlet’s skull
Don’t press a weapon
So much beloved
Too close against your cheek
‘Cause the One who hates you
Lives in it
And seeing the weakness
Of your spirit
He will send you redemption
In the image
Of a lonely wolf
Playing on the football ground
With the Skull
And it doesn’t protest
‘Cause it’s happy




III


When wiping sweat
From the Hamlet’s skull’s forehead
Look closely
At those furrows of Doubt
Not immediately perceptible
Somewhere there is a path
To a stream
Which first taught you
The truth of besieged souls
And mean people
Who march
Pretend it doesn’t concern them
Make for a temple
Dress in jewellery
Sleep like newly born turtles
Calmly and light
‘Cause the Skull devours
All the spare Heavens
All the true Prophecies




















IV


For the duration of
Clich;d Existence
Don’t detach yourself from the Skull
Remember dimensions
Forget villainies
‘Cause in Hell
The Skull burns not
Sweet sorrows of Paradise
Knows not
Lies where all of us
Used to
Where we all paid our dues
To random tenderness
And turned our backs
On our semen
And turned our eyes
To lightning and thunder
Since where lightning falls
Civilizations emerge
Where thunder growls
Opens the Abyss
With valleys in turmoil
Of ants and devices
Clerks and virgins
Obsolete penises
‘Cause the Skull judges not
Quietly traverses the vanishing lines
On the begging palm
Plots not
Dreams not
Of the surging graves
‘Cause it is improper



V


And finally
When bragging about talents
Knowledge, orgasms
A new pray bleeding
In the young jingling teeth
Beware:
All these
Are unearthly deeds
Of the Skull
That everything stems from It
Both the Theatre chuckle
Raising a hero up on a fork
And beautiful scenery
With the only
Cut off vein
Expiring meekly
Both a poppy
Growing next
To the vomiting factory
And a drop
Sliding from the throat
Over a nipple
And on
Into the raging wound
Of true sex
Don’t just regret
Scattering wheat
In between these letters
‘Cause the Soldier and the Traitor
And the Lover
Are all here to bloom
To wake you up at midday
With a glass of wine
And some bread
And an egg with salt
Dress you up comb you
Carry you out
And into cremated fields
And leave you there
With the only Birth
In the whole World
Squeezed in an iron fist
To hear each scream of Hers
Each of Her confessions
And then
Retell it
Through the bony lips
Of the Skull


*** ***