Covetous design

Camouflaged thoughts hide in sequence,
With branched reaches, growing from a source,
Extending it's unique similarity in due course.

Hunger produces many needs that uphold,
Their own duplicated patterns by fold.
Clusters wander with their heredity,
With the same texture,
Expanding in endless perfidy.

Arrays of directions, lusting upward in height,
Trying to leave their ancestral plight,
In hope to lengthen their knowledge in sight.

Shooting their seeds across the promised lands,
With a hunger and greed, they need to expand.
Battles sought, over territorial claims,
Changed by weathers of instinctive aims.

Some nations enlighten the earth,
However doubtless their knowledge, darkens in mirth.
Holding below what's sought,
Exacting in nature of shadows of remorse.

Some will root to grounds of need,
Yet choking on soiled morals of greed.
Reverting and distorting from complex desires;
Old foliage gained in seasonal acquire.

Their distortions, covering the earth,
Until they become entangled in truths,
Each fighting through the canopy of darkness,
To find the answer of light.

Accepting all, with no choice,
Some of them will eat like scavengers in force;
Beneath lies a jungle of blood,
Vines, lopyphites choking for good.

Don't think of escaping through your thoughts,
The revenge must be taken,
At the base of feelings taught.

                                      29/11/1991

                                      NIKOLAS KOVACEVIC.

Covetous Design

Burnt magnate

The caress of the feeling path,
With a sweet orange hue.
A cohesive sphere of love,
Cradling it's knowledge,
With a given choice,
It's arms sweeping out wide,
To shine upon us all.

A spark of indulgence,
With a seedling entrapped.
Germinating to grow,
With abundance of source.

Expanding it's timid right,
Nurturing on feed off the light.
Growing, looking for more,
Exploding into sight.

Lifting higher,
With sweet arms propelling,
To feed with joy,
Who's greenness lives to glow.

With a sudden hue of vain,
An indignant telling.
A crying rebellion,
Raising a brow, to all.

Of a different vigour,
The airs had brought,
The rape of earth,
That I had sought.
As I am a tree, knowledge, history.

I have left, to travel,
Spreading my roots,
Through the crevice of darker light.
With an ignorant soul,
That's for me to judge,
As I'm looking for,
My own soil of love.

I will turn,
To absorb from all,
Some may be bitter,
And some, unfortunately small.

My arms will lift,
Some tiny and fertile,
Only to leave seeds, 
Of a reptile.

Don't despair,
I will leave you a son,
Just like it had brought me to you,
A sweetly nurtured one.

Although, as I grin,
Turning on in travel,
You will look down into your arms,
Only to see your son,
The compost unravel.

As to grow,
And reach a further light,
I will have to eat,
In my own right.

I know my roots will tire and slow,
I know that I can grow no more.
As I eat,
I shock in thought,
My tongue brings me wrought.
The hurt flows through me in pain,
The crevice holds a poison,
It's too late to refrain.

Looking above,
For so long I had been down,
In rampage,
I had raped, 
Without even a frown.

As I was not the only,
Seedling to grow,
The true knowledge seed,
Had come to show.

I could not move,
My roots had grown a tree,
For that axe,
Held me in blatant history.

Weep the sap,
So sweet in collection,
My long trunk,
Had penetrated repulsion.

It was too late,
To reach upward,
As my arms have left,
To leave me fall forward.

A crack, shrieking in violent pain,
With a saddened sphere,
Crying some rain.

To the same compost,
I have come to join,
My rampaged, sapling days,
Will not now sow.

The earth will take me, down under,
To burn and execute my careless blunder,
As now,
I have become the food for the trees,
Of which seedlings grow from,
To become like me.

A stump I remain,
Hollow roots in the ground,
Like saddened memories,
In peoples brows.

To violently I had grown,
In the sunlight,
And caused too many an upheaval,
Of peoples rights.

A burnt stump,
I have finished to sow,
Just remember,
That seedling in your hand,
Will, like me,
One day grow.
        
                          18/7/1991

             NIKOLAS KOVACEVIC.

Burnt Magnate

Buffalo

Poised in a room,
Armed with the games,
The only games,
That I had come to know.

Fearless they stood,
In ignorance,
While beasts, that they were,
Gathered to sow.

Animals of husky blood,
They stunk of power and knowledge.
Where in comparison,
I had blinded them,
Only with innocent portrayal.

With an internally conceived change,
They knew this,
But only had to sigh,
As I had produced the ignorance in need.

I stopped, to peak outward,
At the vast ocean of life,
That bred in the night.
They had their time,
As I knew mine was to come.

The silence scared me,
As I shivered twice,
My only weapon,
Could kill but once.

I knew that time would creep,
To destroy,
I could see, 
But would not join.

They danced to wash, 
With dusty sky,
Like waters used, 
To clean mine.

Thundering in cryptic voice,
My ears too deaf,
With a mind so young,
My  tender eyes could not bare,
As my body stood still in stare.

Reaching for my games,
I understood,
That we were also beasts,
That we could not kill.

Let us trance,
While these beasts that keep,
One day I know,
That we will sleep.

So dance they will to the light,
For we may rise like beasts,
Into the night.

Let our room of games,
Be quiet now,
With some knowledge,
We must show,
That if we were to silence,
The beasts during play,
We might not be able,
To stare at them another day.

We would not be able,
To learn any more,
And only have, 
Our own games to sow.
Thus our silence,
We would see,
And ending to us,
It would thus be.

Feel we should, in ourselves,
That there is room for all to sow,
May  they  be just buffalo.

                                 NIKOLAS KOVACEVIC.

Buffalo

Bladed sight

Their bodies lay awake in dawn,
Yet asleep, feeling forlorn.
The eyes are clear and wild,
Although in a darker shade,
For sharpness has but, a duller blade.

The turning stone lays waiting, wet and cold,
As yet, the prophecy is to be told,
Of two nations,
Being cut and cleaned on stone.

Hence, as love divinely holds,
And cleans in love, the crisper shades,
It fells away, the blanket of warmth,
As their eyes are opened,
With hasty force.

The powers cut, like twisted steel,
And hold together,
Forces in mutual appeal;
Then one took the turning stone away,
And they were set in battle,
Evermore, after that day.

During the battle,
One paused too long,
And was cut away,

And fell to the earth,
For where he lay.
Having not have felt,
With greater sight,
That bitter sweat,
Lessened fight.

For like two blades,
In a knights fight,
Neither is victor in their own right,
As it is not, the strength which each holds,
That makes either the tougher blade.

They fall in it's guilt,
Having realised the strength lies,
In the turning wheel,
Which gave to each, love and sight,
Only to have watched their duller fight.

A lesson, each must learn,
That power of love,
Is not here to spurn,
For it is victor in it's divine right,
To give to each, the sharper sight;
Whether either takes it,
And holds together close,
Or becomes a bitter enemy,
Each is to choose.

                                  NIKOLAS KOVACEVIC.

Bladed Sight

Artism

Birth
                           

How do you prepare to enter,
The cold world, that's so uninviting?
Where the ceilings dampened white shrouds,
Heal to your subservient command.
Make the strike, of a thousand wishes,
For only one, will heal to your demand.

As I fall into the sleeping whisper,
Of the mountain's cry,
The reading of languages,
Lost in the crescent moon,
Shatter over a disfigured form.

Man is born, to the reaching scream,
Of her agonised understanding.
Her sweet loneliness, pivoting to succumb,
Over an entwining coil,
Around the legs, so tender and drawn.

Come and whisper, into my eye,
Where the hour's shadows,
Paint visions across the deserts day.

So giving and supple,
The friend of suggestion,
As she passes birth to you,
In pain.


                      NIKOLAS KOVACEVIC.

Birth

Circus


I welcome you through,
The opening curtain,
To the sideshow,
Of a mobile sun.

There is so, so much,
Here for all.
Close your eyes,
And open your souls.

Wooden manikins,
Of carnal knowledge,
With hands glazed,
By fairy floss.

Child emotions spree,
Through smiles of lost wisdom.
Stripped glory to all,
Come here, we have to be!

Rampant screams,
On roller coaster rides,
With vapour streams,
Of incense lives.

Clowns cloths adorned,
By sub-gods of parental guidance.
They came to see the world,
Only to muse the prince-priestess,
Of nympho-maniacal love.

The plastic jewels of paint,
Glittering on subliminal sign boards,
Pointing to lions in sequential pride,
Of animal flesh on Darwin's monkey hide.

One, two, three,
The horse-dogs prance to me.
Adorned by glove tight puppet girls,
Roaring in soar to seated dolls.

Star-spangled grins,
That outweigh,
Buddhist icons of beaten gold.

The terrace gardens, layered thinner,
With sun drops of rice,
Than the Sunday meal,
Of a fat wallets choice.

Come on,
Lets lose ourselves,
Through hazes of joy.
To eat the candy houses,
Of forbidden sex toys.

You know my crystal friend;
I want them all,
Till the lollipop waters,
Erode the foreign shore.


                                       23/7/93

                                       NIKOLAS KOVACEVIC.

Circus

CULMINATION


In the wars of bread,
The races fulfilled my consuming hatred.
Butters of flesh spread so thin,
With browning toasters in chambers of sin.

The brooding black pupil of discontent,
In my neighbors eye of soulless repent,
Pierced my pool of still waters emotion,
Till tides of blood, drenched the shores of culmination.

Pump did the swallow, a bird of beautiful fills,
Pecking in gaze, at once rich grassy hills,
Till the somber animals' instinct, stopped to feed,
And fell to lay wasted on unnecessary soils of greed.

Give me your crown and forget the jewels, offered in life,
I want everything now, laid down in strife.
Let the green moss of your beret, jacket and coat,
Staunchly mound the ground, from which you arose.

Only to see you go to the end,
As my destruction pours over you like acid reign.

 
                                              26/8/93

Culmination

CULMINATION


In the wars of bread,
The races fulfilled my consuming hatred.
Butters of flesh spread so thin,
With browning toasters in chambers of sin.

The brooding black pupil of discontent,
In my neighbors eye of soulless repent,
Pierced my pool of still waters emotion,
Till tides of blood, drenched the shores of culmination.

Pump did the swallow, a bird of beautiful fills,
Pecking in gaze, at once rich grassy hills,
Till the somber animals' instinct, stopped to feed,
And fell to lay wasted on unnecessary soils of greed.

Give me your crown and forget the jewels, offered in life,
I want everything now, laid down in strife.
Let the green moss of your beret, jacket and coat,
Staunchly mound the ground, from which you arose.

Only to see you go to the end,
As my destruction pours over you like acid reign.

 
                                              26/8/93

       NIKOLAS KOVACEVIC.

Culmination - Master

SUV5A

SUV5A - (Educated Efficacy)


"Line up children, if you want the roll to be done,
And correct yourselves into an order,
If you want my favour won!"

These words in the futile mouths of the old,
Should be replaced by the young words of the strong, like;
Live it up children, choose what you want,
From the catalogue of desires,
That hold calamitous order,
In the massed disarray, 
Of what you require.

"Be still, or else, I'll let out a cry,
And administer the insults to the innocents, that stir and pry.
You see, I'm standing here with my own principles in hand,
To deliver to you, boy, if you try to withstand."

A general parent you better not be to me,
Because in your shorthand writing,
Carnal knowledge is what I see.
When the secretaries music is turned low,
I can hear you  say;
"Woman intake this dictation,
While my words thrust in volume, with words that glisten."

"In my inventory, it says, that this boy is irregular,
That is the reason for my castigation.
So secretary, thrust his lineage this letter,
And in case, I don't know what rubbish he'll cry,
Tell them that their reversed son, is a liar.
You see, secretary, I had to reprehend this boy,
Thank god, that in good time I did,
Because, I found him in the girl's lavatories,
Where he should not have been!
Censure his desires, I must,
So to chasten his evil minds lust.
You see, that is why I had to drive two hours of rounds,
Of words in volume,
So to prepare this fluid letter, with words of solemn.


Sweet secretary, can you please tidy it up, and can you personally,
Convey my thoughts to them and then me, by night.
I need to receive their reply from you,
Before this boys adverse demeanour, completely sickens.
Oh, these days in the new ages of dawn,
Bring such troublesome paucity in the young, 
With abhorrent morals of lorn.
I don't think that I'm being penurious in design,
The wrong thoughts of the boy, are so unlike mine!
That's why I'm indebted to the elders of my time,
...You can understand, my worry in mind!?"

You can say all of this, dear principal of wisdom,
Yet the mournful truth, I have already discerned,
In life's catacomb.
In the preparation of the letters disclosure,
You have ascertained nothing,
As my elders, now, of fluid words, only read one thing,
While with a curious mind I prod.
Of both my parents, a dictation I saw,
While in an innocent stance, at their bedroom door.

                                       Signed:Student



                                    31/1/92

           NIKOLAS KOVACEVIC.

SUV5A - (Voices)

It all began with Robert Johnson, then came Elvis, the Beatles, Eminem, Bieber (Emieber) and the rest is history. 

Enjoy 👌

Noony

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