Encontre cuatro poemas escritos por Serj (vocalista, teclado):
My Words
My words escape me,
As I escape them,
To define me,
As not refined, mimed release expressions,
Of continuous thoughts
Pouring out like red wine
From a dark green bottle on a creme colored carpet,
Or white sand.
My words escape me,
As I escape them,
For love is beauty, and beauty is love,
As diabolical dreams of intestines on a platter,
As kidneys, lungs, and livers,
Rushing the blood, my blood, winded, noisey.
My words escape me,
As I escape the world.
Salivation
I have resolved to salivate
On your favorite salad dressing,
Or your dear held principles,
Who run ahead of their respective schools.
My form is that of a butterfly frozen in mid air,
En route to the jungles,
Thawed by escapism,
Nourished by self preservation.
My stride is that of a guitar string
In the hands of a drunk gypsy courting a fair lady,
Making love with the ascending and descending
Frequencies of the heart.
Time is the father of existence,
Rhyme is the brother of the word,
Words that define the world,
Worlds that refine my words.
Natural water no longer exists,
We must now create what was initially abundant,
And destroy that which took its abundance away.
Is the garden clear for the new plants?
Is the soil still rich enough to support life?
My fears are the shadows behind the edge of dark buildings,
The howls in the night.
FRIIK
What's my problem,
Here's my problem,
My problem is that I'm
Too visual to be blind,
Too audiological to be deaf,
Too ideological to be in peace,
Too compassionate to be in war,
Too crazy to be sane,
To sane to be lazy,
Too emotional to be you
If I could only stop my head,
From going into constant infection,
Then maybe I can swim back
To my own version of consistent sanity.
Angelic daemons,
Liquid dreams,
Transparent mountains
Of our own reality.
Burning oceans,
Melting faces,
Melting faces,
Why!
Nil
If today I die,
And cannot deny,
The life that I live,
For what I say now,
Will befit, myself, in time.
No time to die, nor live,
No structures of a pyramid,
Nor trained horses to arise,
Surmise my position.
My words define me
As a surgically proficient baker,
A baker who now lies still,
For assuming these were my last words,
I would say absolutely nil.