"Satyrs at Play" - aediculaantinoi.wordpress.com: HADRIAN and ANTINOUS finally release their embrace, and notice DIONYSOS

Saturday, January 7, 2017


Wolves Howl 

Uploaded on Jan 31, 2008
These are my favorite animals - wolves. They're howling up to the moon and they're calling other Wolves. 


I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked...

Howl too:
Who-o-o-o? Who-o-o-o? Who-o-o-o?
Who? Who? Who?
That's who.
Howl now too!

The America of my dreams:
That's who.

Ou-u-u... Ou-u-u... Ou-u-u...
That's who.
Howl now:
Ou-u-u... Ou-u-u... Ou-u-u...

Mother Wolf of Rome howls.
Your kids are lost;
Turned against you -
Howl now!

Where is my Kalashnikov?
Unzip the bag,
Howl now!

Ochlos rules:
By the Robot-Clown,
The quintessence of cheap posh,
The bankrupt puppet,
Pretending to be rich,
Staying afloat
On the oil soaked paper,
Controlled by the Kremlin's strings -
Howl now!

Mad, poor wretched soul,
A juvenile delinquent
Reaching to the stars,
Depressed, despondent, empty,
Deceptions shackled and afflicted with,
Afflicting others
With anger, ignorance, importance
Of birth rights laws;
Transmitting his infection,
His blindness virus
So readily, so fast;
Killing you softly with the foreign vengeance -
Howl now!

Your sons,
The best of Guardians,
To the slaughter sends he,
Repaying debt.
This is his payment,
Calculated by the accountants to a penny
On his mortgage -
Howl now!

Cry Naomi, howl:
The best is yet to come.
Lend me your delusions,
Your comfort,
Your respite, your escape,
I need them:
The mind is of no use,
Of no goal, of no purpose, and of no help -
Howl now!


"Wha happind", eah?
Your eyes were wide shut,
But mouths now are wide open,
Your brains apart, yelling in disbelief:
"Wha happind" to you, America?

Elected King to rule,
The Master of plantations,
Live-in bananas grower,
The seller of simplicities,
Store manager for neighbors,
Peaking through the walls
With hungry eyes.

I never traveled you,
But wanted so much
To see your cities,
Your towns, you hamlets,
Your churches, piercing heavens
With sharp demanding screams,
With the eternal quest:
"Not by the bread alone!"

Your churchbells,
Singing the hymn of your soul
That reached me in my old wilderness,
Making my soul vibrate
With resonance and longing,
With love and trust
In promise and unknown,
As if I knew it always.

Your people,
So mysterious, and yet so close:
I never felt apart from them,
I always felt American,
And proud was and am.

"I want you to be happy here",
Said the hotel manager,
Where I stayed my first days.
These words did strike me
With kindness and sincerity,
They rang of truth and custom,
I heard them often.

Your parks, your mountains,
Your hills, your valleys,
Extensions of infinity,
With no horizons,
Covered with flowers,
So simple, elegant, unique,
Erotic in the mental mix,
The mystery of scents,
The knowledge so close yet so far,
Beyond the edge unreachable...

I didn't see you, I didn't know you,
And know not you still:
Intriguing puzzle,
Heart of the bulb
Of coming flowers: free-blooming,
Unsuppressible, the gift of man and nature
Delight of mind and senses
Defying definitions:
Your essence not for words,
They are too simple,
Good only for simple minded sellers,
And simple price tags, dollar signs in bold.

God's gift of the Unknown,
And the Unknowable,
You are just magic flower,
A field of flowers,
Free-blooming, different, diverse,
Unique, inimitable, fascinating
For the world to love,
To hate, to envy, to admire,
And to fear, and to respect your will.

My America was always in me,
Within me, merged with my soul.
Cerebral and abstract?
Devoid of life, of flesh,
And pain, and struggle?
Do I really know her?

The mystery that is forbidden, unresolved,
Unanalyzable, a "thing in itself"...
And better left as is and undefined?
Who knows her?
Who has the right to claim
Elusive knowledge, beyond the daily truths?
Beyond the words, the tags, and empty definitions?


What happened then?
Who blinded you with hatred?
Who stole your mind?
Who wants to steal your freedom?
Who wants the slaves and zombies
To roam your streets,
Ready to discharge the hidden weapons
By ordered hateful push of their deadly triggers?


Michael Novakhov

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