Poetry as a weapon against alienation. Thespirit of a generation in turmoil between beat rebellion, post-1968 disillusionment, the search for the absolute, and spiritual quests, in an often apocalyptic vision where beauty and horror merge without resolution. To be read as a raw testimony to counterculture, between ecstasy and despair.
No Beginning No End
At the 10th second, I see a gigantic bird splashing the oceans.
At the 9th second, an eight-dimensional flower began to sing, my cells began to vibrate.
At the 8th second, the wind erased everything and a telepathic crocodile announced the coming of Freedom.
At the seventh second, the colors cried and faded away on the sand.
At the sixth second, the cosmic lights intensified.
At the fifth second, I saw the image of Love again.
At the fourth second, a circle of flames was lost in my eyes.
At the third second, a razor blade grazed my wrist.
At the second second, only my soul had a sex, a sex of black velvet, decorated with smoke.
At the first second, a whole translucent universe was revealed
And at the last second, I was dissolved into it, integrated.
One trip is space
Trip is one
Space is trip
Space is one.
No Beginning No End
No Beginning No End