Jože Snoj: Piknik pikapolonic

 

 

 

                                                           Odziv

 

                                                           če se ti ne bi

                                                           oglasil

                                                           s krikom in vriskom

                                                           bi se spremenil v kamnito

                                                           steno

                                                           in posluzil bi se

                                                           od vrha do tal

                                                           z lastnim odmevom

                                                           in smešen sram

                                                           bi me poškrobil

                                                           pred preiskujočimi

                                                           očmi

                                                           angelovimi

 

                                                           saj kdo kot le

                                                           on

                                                           ti je dal

                                                           brez zla slo spola

                                                           in zobato medenico v

                                                           tem

                                                           dekliškem

                                                           telesu

                                                           in pikapoloničina krila

                                                           in sladko rajsko

                                                           plesen

                                                           po svoji neumrljivi

                                                           podobi

 

 

***

 

 

                                                           Žametna krtina

 

                                                           zdravi smo

                                                           in luč

                                                           žametne krtine nam

                                                           sveti

 

                                                           rijemo krti

                                                           smrtni

                                                           od trebuha do

                                                           trebuha

                                                           v epohe

 

                                                           na zevu posredi časa

                                                           na zevu stoka in

                                                           noge

                                                           zatajimo sebe in svoje

                                                           preroke

 

                                                           o vlažno  -

                                                           -  toplo  -

                                                           -  temna in brez globine

 

                                                           na tebi obtičimo

                                                           odcejeni

                                                           brez misli

                                                           brez prihodnosti

                                                           in brez zgodovine

 

 

***

 

 

                                                           Molitev k Brezmadežni

 

                                                           tvojo smrtno sluz

                                                           je obsenčil sveti

                                                           duh

                                                           tvoj brezmadežni obup

                                                           je razstlal opoj

                                                           rjuh

                                                           polmesec tvojih nog

                                                           je zazibal

                                                           človeški rod

 

                                                           iz rok nam letijo

                                                           nedolžni otročiči

                                                           naši prsti grabijo

                                                           za votlo režo kože

                                                           in zmakljivimi brstiči

 

                                                           raz krov drsimo

                                                           zgodnja danica

                                                           raz snov se nam lušči

                                                           strupeni lošč

                                                           duše

 

                                                           slabo žgana glina smo

                                                           blagoslovljena med ženami

                                                           razmočena prst zgolj

                                                           pohojena od nevidnega

                                                           stopala    

 

 

 

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