New Poems by Geo Cosmos



So what if I love you? And what if you did love me?
You still did left me. You have really gone away.
And this has happened always, in every century.
In so many age in blood in cold in war. It’s lurid.

I remember being the page of Joan of Arc
You were the Byzantine Count of Xantopoulos, marked.
I was watching you from behind a curtain
But you were courting Joan of Arc of this I was certain.

She was very much against your allies the Hussites
Cause some of them were running around naked at their sites
She was not talking to you at all, her virgin image supreme
And I I got fat in a way, eating too much cream.

All the while you were reading the Book of the Zohar
You have told us the Pope is just a pumpkin covered by hair
In those days I began to read the Bible myself
And I could see in it Father and Son, not just a book on a shelf.

Half a century has passed since Torquemade
was attacked by Jews who have killed his surrogate.
In that time you served in Madrid as an Ambassador
And I was a Rabbi, not a Conquistador.

You have been one of my cruel inquisitors
It depended on you who‘ll be my tormentors.
I saw in your eyes as joy was flickering
When they started to peel off my skin like I was a herring.

Then we saw each other at Archbishop Wolsey
When King Henry the Eight said he soon would see
How he will get new Papal concessions
To his divorce. You conducted meetings and sessions.

There were many times when we could meet each other
Just your eye has sent me some furtive light here and there.
And I always felt some homely feeling at that
As if I have found some long  lost beloved pet.

As if I had in me some deep wound or recess
Or an enigma or some new step in chess
And my heart was so full of the hot Lava
While my face was closed, almost as if in awe.

We had so many different works done: we became quite close too,
We felt how we were attracted to each other’s body and  soul,
But we have never become a real couple though
You always found someone better than me and I stayed alone.

Now, at the burial I have asked someone
What was the real truth? Did you really leave me?
I pretended to stay alive afterwards
In spite of being dead – thirty years have passed.

They have made me believe you loved someone else
That a good friend became closer to your heart
Although today I think this is only showing
that you wanted to seek remedy to some failing.

I used to be Elsbeth of Báthory once upon a time
You were my Greek page: and I have killed you
Later you were a Vizier, and me your Body Guard,
You wanted to make love : I killed you with a sword.

In the Court of the Zrínskis we were pages both
Then we served his Cousin Rakoczky, warring many months
And in a few years we were cut in four as rebels
No one has defended us, we were torn jewels.

Napoleon has feigned a Putch against himself
To liberate some Barons from Prison, more than twelve.
Among them we see my ancestor, great-granddaughter of Bercsényi

Whose father in-law was famous as a hipnotiseur, his many gold shiny.

You have been his disciple, the abbé of Faria
Described by  Dumas , imprisoned far away.
A guard in that prison I happened to be
And I left you unguarded to be able to flee.

After fifty  years in a Budapesht prison
János Xántus and my great-grandfather lived in the same garrison
That case was not really that much in olden times
So my great-grand-aunt could describe it in details.

Many people tell me. Hey, do not love him too much!
After all he died now, is buried, impossible to touch!
But I answer simply, you have died so many times already
And why should I not love you? If I am now ready.

My Golden Horse I beg you, take me into the Sky

Your Queue will be your Wing, with that you may fly

We will then plant a Yellow Rose on your tomb

And we will cry our tears, all round, like a womb.








The seagull is screeching

The eagle is complaining

This kingly writing

Will not be compelling


They have reported to me,

To King Ferdinand,

Arbues was decapitated,

Mistaken to be Torq‘made.


Jews with their dark soul

Populace so foul

Eternal Light shines in them

Like them was my Grandmother.


From the Palaiologos-Xanthos family

Who are the shining relatives

Of the Bizantine Emperors

Some are translating our Holy Bible!


This heretic often states

That Jews are really softer mates,

But not here down on Earth,

But only in our deepest Heart.


So that not by birth will

Someone become a Jew

In depends on the Will

If he loves or he wants to sue.


I don’t know, I don’t know,

But it is sure today

That my Throne will fall

If he does proclaim.


I will send him a blood-red cruel bomb

To chase him away and to stop his lead.

They should pierce his wife’s birthing womb

So that they should lose the remnants of his seed.


He’s got a handsome page

Who is not yet a man

They should invent a tale

That they are playfully gay.


Stage a theft in his quarters

Steal the Page’s secret Journal

They should enter a few lines

In which his love for The Count shines.


He should confess his love,

That he thinks he is for him a Dove

Stretch him on a torture bench

Until his heart and tongue bends.


The Count should be let to write

A Last word for his defence

In which he can state as he likes

That he has been touching only his legs and arms.


This is what the Zohar is saying

Almost in every other line

That  an absence of  a father

Diminishes if you touch  there.


My poor daughter, Isabelle,

Although they say she is crazy,

She has fallen in love  with the rebel

This Blonde Count and his glory.


Still she will be given

To her Habsbourg  groom

Even if he is driven

By a moody gloom.


I have received  a page

Not too late tonight

That this  little vain page

Is engaged to the Knight.


He was stolen by the Jews

From a wealthy  orphanage

Rabbi Abarbanel chose

To hide his bastard in this age.


We do not exactly know 

Why he was put to this institute

Some claim that the mom

Became a prostitute.


There they fed him through his rear end

With a tube to get his nourishment.


Later this Jewish page

Found no other outlet

He went to Bizantine

As a street musician, singer.


On the street he was seen

By Xanthos  the Good Count

And at once he was keen

To let him live on his account


He did not have an offspring

So he took him as his stepson

He became his sibling

Protected his person.


To translate the Zohar

They traveled to Florence

The expences rather soar

And it was not sixpence.


They arrived from Italy

To our Barcelona

Into the sweet home valley

Of  Ferdinand and Isabella


Each morning their sitting posture

On the beach while praying

And all they little gestures

My local men are prying.


The small brown-haired page

Sat back to back with the Count

Because according to a Zohar page

The Rear End’s meeting is what counts.


When two men are touching

Each other without desire

This is an important posture


That is why they stay there


This posture excludes each and every movement

Everything gets still and wholly red

But if someone looks at a rear end

The World-Machine starts and enters the Recovering.


All that was bad will be good and the opposite is true too

Those who were  sitting alone, will now split into two.


Each 45 years this motion will happen

Chroniclers call it Recovery and then

The rest will come: Goal-Father, Want-Sister

And Intellect-Mother are built on one and other.


The Eye of the Cosmic Being wanders in the Rear

And Everyone feels and says: „Intellect I bear“.

For the eye when pulls up the hip or the back

This gesture infuses every cell and each track.


Not just the eye, nose and ear

Not only the leg, hand or rear

All body part will create a whole

And every little part is creating an All.


That is why this teaching must be persecuted

That the true mother-child gaze should be exluded

Because at the root of  each eye-contact we will find

A non-earthly system that is there behind.


This system has a yearly changing  aspect

Sunspots are its main cause: they incite disrespect

Each 45 years we have the most number of killing

And every 11 years we have lots of feeling.


Xantopoulos, The son of the Blonde

Owns this ancient teaching bond

So they must be all killed like a rat 

If I don‘t defend myself my fate will be bad.


If I were not the king I would certainly join

As this theory is beautiful like a golden coin

That all our glances have a cosmic effect

But it is safer if this knowledge belongs to the select.


Would it be too easy if every man could know it

Which body part in which year can easily bow it.

Better if the secret system of the world

Stays hidden and we stay stuck with the empty word.


Let this two felons be tied together pat

The Yellow-haired Count and this Jewish rat

Impaled through their rear their blood should pour on flames

That should be the fate of those who want to know the Names.


 „My diamond! My violet! Golden Bone-Friend of Mine!

We are running into the Autumn and the Winter’s shine!“

Thus he screams the Good-Hearted Yellow Count

While on his bosom his loved one gave account.


I have revenged the Lead Killer, Arbues

I have poured fresh blood that are not in Lues.

I am closing my eyes. I have hit like a lightning.

The Blonde Count’s Jewish friend’s icy eyes aren’t lighting.


The seagull is screeching

The eagle is complaing

A King has been burned

So that Blood was not poured.





 WOLSEY, 1529


Storks  are flying

Owls are watching

We hear in the cell

Of the Tower, how they fell.


This year has a bad fate

For Archbishop Wolsey

King Henry the Eight

Your demise he would see.


You were not able

To persuade the Pope

To make the King divorcable

And give Anne Boleyn some hope.


The Greek Envoy was late

To arrive to London

Who went to ask the Prague Rabbinate

For good argumentation.


Pope Martin is captive

Of Charles of the Habsburgs

He is very active

Not to let the stamps pour.


Many Rabbis watch it

How the non-Jews are fighting

As their hatred has an effect

On when the Mashiah will come as fact.


At this time like again and again

Rabbi Katzenellenbogen

Is the one who must accept

That this Rank will leave him inept.


Spies are catching  always

The letters of the rabbis

They want to see how they

Act to stop things and how to let be.


In one of these letters

Wolsey himself has asked

A Bible based  argument

From the Rabbi of Prague.


An other letter

Went through Prague

From King John of Hungary

To Marry Mary of Habsburg


The Rabbi reads it laughing

Sitting next to his fire

The foolish Hunnish King

He forgot the Habsburg ire.


Emperor Charles Mary’s brother

Will never cede his sister

He did not allow Henry’s divorce

Why would he care about John’s mores?


This Mavrocordato

A Xantos-related Baron

Is galopping to Poland now

To ask for Queen the little girl

From among Yagellos.


From there he would cross the Channel

Using his rank as Prince of Ciprus

He has set his eyes on Anne Boleyn

His blood is hot like a citrus.


The spy of Henry is there

In every secret hole

He knows that the Greek envoy

Is up at nights like an owl.


He is followed to the inn

Or in the tavern

Where he meets a Rabbi’s son

To change some gold coin.


And he asks the Jewish guy

To accompany him today

And help to find arguments

From the Bible against women.


Anne Boleyn awaits him

In his secret Palace

She likes the Greek Hero

With his Jewish companion.


She dresses herself nicely

In a robe with free bosom

And after a few party

Both men are in her bed: awesome.


But Anne Boleyn is angry

The Rabbi-son sleeps deeply

And when awake he only speaks

With this Blonde Ciprus Earl

How to find a Bible cue

Or to make a barbecue.


They are sitting back to back

Following ancient lore

Saying two men can be in love

Without sex or using a whore.


Anne has made a vow

To report them at once.

She will accuse them

With the sin of Sodom.


Ciprus Embassy sent

Envoy to the King now

Golden cups with red wine

Is sent by the Governor.


„Should I let free the Yellow Count?

Should I let Anne be hanged?

No, I will put him to the Tower

Where Wolsey is handled.“


Seed of the Mashiah

In the city of Prague

Hears the Demise of Boleyn

And he starts to „Bible-leyn.“


„I must help my London Brother

Using some hypnosis

To make him free from this Greek other

And read instead the Gnosis.“


 He takes from silk cloth

His telescope

And sees a knife in

His Nephew’s hand


„Oh My Star, My Soldier

Golden Shield, My Heros.

In your Golden Ass-Crack

I did not put my Phallos.


Although we would have liked

To do just sucha  thing

But we acepted it is a sin

As the Zohar has stated.


Oh my Golden Guard

My Blue Violet

You were taken from me

Now I do not have a friend

Except my cold silver Knife.“


The Prague Rabbi quickly

Leafes through the Bible portions weekly

Not for a text just for a song

Which is the only remedy .


The secret reading melodies

Can have an effect far away

As he is mumbling the words

It is heard in fields and woods.


 On the Table of  Szapolyai

King of Hungary

We see the Head of the Serb Tzar

With whom he likes to converse  daily.


He shows the Head to small Isabelle

His as-yet-virgin Fiancée

Who stays calm as she hears some bells

From the Rabbi’s melody.


In this World most things are

Completely differently


We think we are bettering it

Or we are battering it.


The only element that counts

Is the Tune of the Rabbi

And what his cousins do with Greek Counts

Which body part is watched keenly.


The Nephew is walking

Round and round the London Tower

Where Wolsey and the Greek are sitting

And the young man is just singing


„Oh, my beautiful Horse

I want to be your Saddle

We would fly away at Once

And not be again sad.“


But alas, what’s he seeing?

Guards do carry a box.

And the Sword of the Governor

Is on it, oh, like in the books.


„My Wolfe, my sweet little Bear

So your life has been cut!

Ido not think I am able to bear

To be in such deep pit.


You have become my Bone-Friend

On a Filed of Ice Flowers

You  loved my naked Body

And now yours became so Bloody.“


The Prague Rabbi now sees

As a new Guard enters.

Yellow Parchment in his hand

With a Boleyn-Made Stamp.


Ahron the Rabbi-Nephew

Opens it while in awe

And we can see in the Telescope

As he reads it with a lost hope:


„Let this Letter be Given

To the Hands of this Rabbi’s Son

Who was Spirit-Brother

With the Count of Xanthos.


Dear Ahron, you must know

That which you could see too

That Wolsey with your dear Lord

Has become like one, not two.


He asked him to put oil

On his fatty belly

And while giving a massage

Also to give him a message

From the Bible passage.


The Fat Bishop fell in love

With the Handsome Governor

And they have left restraints behind

Not excluding the Behind.“


His hands on the Torah

Ahron ben Mordehai

Feels  his heart is too rough

And feels nearing his decay.


So the Bishop led to sin

His beloved Virginal Count

And thus he has corrupted all

That has been pure and whole.


No, to love each other is okay

It was never disavowed

Men may be in love without decay

To abuse the rear is not allowed.


„You did now betray

Me my sweet Blonde Prince

Even if you would stay alive

Our love would now wince.


I could not even tell you

As you would not grasp my stance

Why your Bible-learning Youth

Must keep forever  his Distance.“





Pheasant is dancing

His queue not forgetting

Golden Flower in his Beck

It falls down suddenly.


My great-great-great grandmother, Elsbeth von Báthory

Is screeching the wall in the Castle of Cheytee

Bloody visions arrive with each evening falling

Her windowless cell has walls: it is grey and appalling.


She thinks about her loyal Husband, Franz von Nádasdy

As his Jacket’s buttons all shine like mirrors

In which we see his sister‘s naked bottom bubble

Anointed with honey and tied to some insects‘ hubble.


That is her punishment for coming home too late.

Her duty is to be moral to a new order to relate

Similarly like his Vallon soldiers‘ punishment

Who were sewn into horse skin and put to the fire’s element.


The Vallon Party got weak

So that Spain’s Prince Alba

Could at once break

Fairy-land, Orania.


The brother of the Prince of Orania

Louis Was killed  cruelly

And Alba has made a big feast

Inviting enemy and ally.


The Envoy of Ciprus, heir of Count Xanthos

Is a sponsor of the sects that wear no robes


With his friend,a  Rabbi, called Yeshua Horowitz

They are spreading the Word of Zohar  in a little clique.


So it has been reported to Prince Alba himself

At once he decided to tkae his sword from the shelf.


At once he orders in a red-blood temper

To tie the hands of the Yellow Count

 he should not with our Bible tamper.


Rabbi Yehoshua was given to Sultan’s guard

His simple cell’s l at the Bosporus is not longer than a few yard.

Their Wisdom-seeking Friendship like Blue Sky behind Them

Was never forgotten in all those prison years.


Some decades have passed when they were liberated

Ans they happened to meet just in the Court of Nadasys.

„My dear olf Friend you got fat

But still I would love to embrace you

As you keep being lean in my heart and pure too. “


They taught us that it is good

If a Man has deeper Feelings

For another Man without rue

They never have children.


Just to touch is not taboo

Only making love is a big no

Meshi Ah means: „Caress, Brother!“

 This will not bring you low. 


Husband of Liz Báthory has heard this talk and thought

How th Palatine has attacked his fair wife.

Listening, listening, he realize slowly

That in the Bible writings caressing is not lowly.


 „ Please my sweetest sister, give me your forgiveness

I put you among insects when you just made a stroll.

I was too much strict with all those Vallonian soldiers

Of whom I have heard to be with one girl in two-somes.“


Báthory’s cousin was Valentine Balassa

Just twenty years old then, not yet a big killer.

He likes to listen to the words of the Count and the Rabbi

And all the while he played and sang.


Suddenly the Rabbi looked at him and shouted:

„But this melody is sung when we read the Bible!

Yes, there are calming melodies

That work really like remedies.


„Please, sing my dear Valentine from the words of Zohar

That between Friendship is so helpful for the good soldier.

They go together to dance, and to give the courting

And the best case is when the two of them are with a girl coupling.“


Next day our Valentine went to the Turkish Bath

And he felt that a soldier was touching his Tigh

He sprang up in anger and with a linen cloth

He hit the guy at once, blood was sprouting tight.


„What are you doing, you Bastard, am I not a Lard!“

Then he recognized the handsome face at once:

Governor of Ciprus, Yellow-son tha Count

When he touches a leg he has good intentions.


Cause in the Zohar he has read that the world is a cup

Created by the sinless manyl touchings.

„But this Word is Sinful“, shouts our dear Balassa

And he hits the Jewish Rabbi, who heals for weeks with a potion.


Elsbeth of Báthory watches the grey cell-wall

Reminiscing slowly ho life went by as a whole.

She was only gathering motherly touchings too

Still she was accused to be a murderous whore.


„No I was not interested

In the girls, or those drugs

Nothing was important

Just I waited for the minute

When I could be with you.

I always did feel that

I will not see you again

I cannot even imagine

How I did not turn into stone.“


Outside all those owls are

Squinting up to the Moon.

Still the leaves on bushes

Are awaiting trolls.



Prince Bethlen, Kara Mohamed and the Bene Israel




The bees are singing

Insects running

So suddenly summer has passed

Just in the moring.


Menashe ben Israel

Was still an infant then

He did not even imagine

How will be his ageing.


He could not as yet know that

He will persuade Cromwell

To leave the Jews come to England

Because that will do well.


His wife’s ancestor was Rabbi Abarbanel

So his son could become the Messiah or as Greeks say the Christ.

That is why he was intrigued that in America

Some discovered a clan of Jews who were Indians.



All the while with his army

Prince Bethlen will reach Vienna

His general is George Rakoczy

Who travels with a duenna.


The Party of the Reformates

Are against the Popists

All the villages are now burnt

Many people are harshly hurt.


Valentine of Homonnay Drugeth

My great grandfathers great grandfather

Could stop the army of Rakoczy

He is a puppet of the King of Vienna.


The Turkish High Vizier

Kara Mohamed was he called

Loved his Guard a Janissary

But he still resisted.


He learned with th Sufis

Reading the Holy Zohar

Has given caresses to the Vizier

But he only touched his hair.


On a warm afternoon

Count Xantos the Fair

Has strolled on the Danube beach

Where the Sufi brother

Started just to teach.


He has explained

From the Zohar deeply

How from manyl touches

Comes quick recovery.


They did fall in love there

while they have been learning long hours

So he asked his removal from duty

Not to have two lords at once.


In the very same days

The English King gathered new spies

 So our Greek Count said yes 

And he went to England on a ship.


That evening the Guard went to his old lord

Pretending he even likes to be with that fat belly

And when the Vizier has turned away for a while

A silk cord was suffocating his neck till he turned white.


Then Quasim slid from the Tent.

Went straight to Danube Beach.

Shouting to the sailors

Who accepted him as a servant on the London ship.


 Count Xantos is sleepy next to his open ship- window

And he hears how the wind brings a song sleek like a willow.


"Oh, how much I love you

My heart was split in two

Now I am sailing on your ship

Take me into your sleep.


I am closing my eyes

I am even seeing you

I will never get enough

From this desire so pure.


There we will stand again

At the leading post of our armies

With our swords like Kiss-Lights

All men can have their faiths


That I cannot see you

I can barely fathom

To change into a wild dog I should

Who can hide like an atom.


Oh my shining sibling

Oh blood from my old father

Oh my frozen lover

Death wants me to gather


I don’t want again

To wake up to the thought

That you are blown away

As water in a drought


Oh, there flows the Danube

What if I would fall there

But I can’t fall in nude

Instead I want to stay here.



From above our Count hears

The beautiful song

And he gives words to his soul

With a silver tongue:


"Aye, how very cold I am

I beg you give me warmth

Embrace me like an ion

Take me to your arm


I see you are black dear friend

 I will chew your lips

 I will eat you till the end

Until I reach your cute hips.


If you would not love me

I could not love you either

Oh, if yu would not eat me

I could not bite you neither."



The English Captain has heard enough

Taking his silver watch

He gave orders , do them catch

Sailor Quaseem and  Yellow Count

Was put onto some fetters

And they were put ashore.


Then they quickly took jobs

On a Sailing ship

They have had in Sao Paulo their stop

Where they used a whip.


Later they moved to the jungle being a bit wild

And they have sired a few children from Indian women.

They kept their custom to read the Bible daily

In original Hebrew mostly, because that was dandy.


Mensshe ben Israel has been given the news,

That there are Jewish Indians, meaning the End is Close.


The teaching was given

Since ancient times

That to an Age all will be driven

When for all men the bible will be fine


Insects are buzzing

Green grass is sprouting

On the rim of a stone

A frog is squeaking.




Zrínyi 1664



Apple flower is cold.

Sun swims in a fog.

Serpent glides under the woods

Has no fear from rain.


The wife of the Palatine, Mary of Széchy

Was a sober woman who folllowed her interests.

My great-granduncle’s great-great-great-mother is her mother

Her little cousins were Zrínyi and Prince Rákóczi himself.


We don’t know who killed Count Zrinyi by sending the oar 

But we do know the Palatine has used poison, to shut some mouth and ear.

In Eisenstadt at this time, preacher was Mordehay Menashe

No one believed him when he told: here is the Meshiah.


But Old Prince George Rákóczi’s soldiers did believe

To their preacher, Drabik, that he did come too Redeem

He will be the winner against Anti-Christly Hansburgs

So  they occupied Warsaw to make him King in that Borough.


He lost his charm there, Turks got angry

And they killed him by sending some Tatar army  


Wesselényi himself, using a pseudonyme „Oswald”

Hired a Jewish poison man called  Ruby by chance.

He asked for a good toxin to use it’s sap enhanced

To kill the Habsburg-party leader, Prince Lubomirsky.


Just three hundred years ago there used to live an  Oswald

He was a minister and singer in the Court of King Sigismond.

There was another Rubin in that age, a Georgian King.

And Lubomirsky was a cousin of the Lituanian  Radziwillnak.


It is only important because it shows us clearly

That there are such Chance-made Rhythms:

Oswald, Ruby and Radziwill will come again in three hundred years:

They will be appearing in the murder of Kennedy.


  This is just a hint to show that those who have departed

Are not disappearing forever they may come back partly

Maybe just as names or hints but they can take part:

In future lifes they will sometimes reappear.


Xantos-seed Zrínyi, Davidic son Mordehay

If one of them dies the other’s heart is broken.

And in Zrinyi’s time we had a Xantos-relative

Mavrocordato was his name, the Sultan’s interpreter.


Against the Zrinyi’s interest he contracted a peace

At Vasvar and he got a price: he became a prince.

From then on his descendants ruled in Rumania

And against  Rakoczis in Hungary they had a mania.


This Greek man has regularly perused the Bible

And has found good arguments which never dwindle

And in Eisenstadt, Rabbi Mordhay heard about

Messianic legends that were in the army, all around.


English moderator was a man called  Paget

His two diamond eyes were in deep sockets caged.

People told about him, he was learning from Sufis

And he embraces a Guard in the tent of Mavro.


Mary of Széch had a funny custom

Many times when riding she took manly costume.

Thus she met her future husband, Count Wesselényi

This she became rich woman, Hungary’s First Lady.


Now again with her horse she wandered in the mountains

When the Marquis of Paget came on a hill mounting.

They fell in love instantly this was not a question.

But the Guard whom Paget cheated had his dagger on.


Paget defended himself by his sword gallantly

And he twisted the hand of the Guard  aptly.

Mary was not lazy even her jacket was torn:

Paget suddenly saw: as a woman she was born.


If we see a Woman’s Bosom instead of a Man’s Rear

Behind Space-Time we lose our Recovery.

Our world can be peaceful only in one case:

If people want to love and stop this hateful chase.


So he had to kill his friend the Guard?

Oh, his tears have streamed with words:


„Oh, why were we not able to love all three of us?

And resurrect together with the help of Priapus?”


At this moment another song has started in the air

Mavrocordato was it, he sang also about his Guard.

From tan on he became best friends with good Paget

That is how he he was able Moldovan Throne to get.


„No, it cannot be that you cannot be with me

Oh, this simply cannot be.

It cannot be that all of this is just fantasy

That fantasy is really what cannot be.

It cannot be that you simply are nowhere

That Hades is encircling you like a black Tower.

It cannot be that it is not possible to pray,

That those who died should come back to live again!”


At this very moment young Newton waited for his exams

He leafed through Descartes and he saw in an instant

That there must be some Law that has an impact

On everything – and nothing is left intact.


There are  cracks in the huge world

Nothing ever fills them

Causes behind real causes

Are body-parts and year-distances


Sixhundred nsixty four is just such a year date

When in each forty-five years we get to satiate.

Newton also saw that Sound has a clear effect

A Biblical melody is able to change a fact.


Mordehay from Eisenstadt wanted to read Newton

He thought that knowledge is the key for Meshiah-dom

So he saw all the faces of the age in a foggy vision

And again and again he saw Mary of Sech’s bosom.


„Who are you, fair daughter, why do you appear to me?“

„I loved many men but all I lost them later.

If you have the Soul of the Mashiah please don’t stay a dummy

As I have heard in the Future they can help us backward.

Since the Jewish God is the Future as hinted in the Word

Which means also Love – the two names have one Sound.”


„You are right my dear daughter we are all enmeshed

In this program where at the Meshy will come at  end

Where he is now, trying to help us through hypnosis.


Yes there is a Pole

Where all Part is whole.


Where each one of us

Can love the other like couscous.


We will die all of us and resurrect again

But our bloody wounds will be blown away

They will invent slowly a Machine to Change the Past

On a Nano level we can be given a new Heart that lasts.”


All flowers are cold.

The Sun rises, how bold!.

Serpent glides along the plain

Never afraid of the rain.





Orange colored berries

Fall from a brown twig

Small insect carries

It from the oak to the creek.


This New Year’s Eve is dark

Ocskay  got caught

A traitor for Prince Rákóczy

Hope for him is naught.


"B.E.S.T." abbreviation

For the biggest rabbi

The name of the Baal Shem Tov

May be written like this.


He goes deep in forests

Repeating Bible verses

Carrying some dry wood

For those who deserve.


He sees that the Mashiah

Cannot come till people are

Killing each other

Not acting like brothers.


So he keeps watching

What are Davidis sprouts up to

When will the White Pigeon come

To chase away the dark hue.


He sees that the Leader

Is just getting shaven.

He is just pondering

What death would be convenient.


His ancestor, King Mathias

Has peeled people alive

Matthis Nephew Zapolya

Ordered to eat human flesh

His son only cut off noses

And his great-grand-grandson

Rákóczi is the first

Who will have some remorse.


It is an extra question

What his sin should be called

To defend the Arpad-blooded King

A Habsburg. His head must fall.


The BEST is able to see far away

In Vienna, Oppenheimer

Writes a letter to Rákóczy

His money is lost he so whimpers.


All those golden ornaments

On the blue jacketed men

"Jewish credit – it is a curse,

To kill them – there’s no other recourse."


"Ww should just give a sign

That the Jew does not dictate

So let us put a fire

On their temple estate."


Instead Jews let us turn

To the Greek merchants

King of Moldavia’s urns

Are full of gold to enchant.


We have ancestors in common

With Mavrocordato

Xantopoulos Palaiologos

Are all seeds of David.


But of course we all know

That Jews are all bastards

True-hearted Jews are those

Who await Jesus the Mashiah.


Young Mavro loves to dance

And he wanted to meet

Son of Oppenheimer  once

In order to ask credit.


Reuben’s father was strict

So he tried to find others

This was his only trick

To have vicarious fathers.


With easy pen with thoughts so deep

He just crossed out the debt.

In order to show the Greek

That he was not inept.


He even asked him to learn the Zohar together

A biblical lore that teaches men to caress each other.


The young Yellow Count was interested in all things

He did not care much about the Jewish boy’s feelings.

Evening came and his heart was pulling him to women

He visited prostitutes to prove he belonged to the men.


The grandson of old rabbis

Is singing a sad song

His father will say madly: Rubbish

When he hears the Greek won.


"Oh my yellow Horse

Take me through the river

If I cannot see you more

I must finish my living."


The BEST is now perceiving 

His murderous bad feelings

So he sings a hypnotic verse

To wake up the Yellow Count

And he should run without count

To find the half-dead young man.


Yes, the Yellow Horse is awake

He leaves the whore and runs away

Quickly puts on his trousers

Runs to the palace to raise him.


He sees at once the Boy is white

Whiter than a Lily.

So he carries him – he’s so light

Brings him to safe custody.


The Son of The Jewish Money Man

Will be grateful all his life

He found among strangers a friendly One

Who from his heart pulled out his knife.


"Hey, my Horse, my Yellow One

Take me to the snow, man

All red berries have fallen down

Blood spread seen by no one."


That very night Ocskay the Captain

Was losing his proud head

A year ending caption

Everyone looking ahead.




Evenings are now black

Biting colds are back

White Pigeons sits on a Cross

Dreaming about little moths.


Prince Rákóczy is long dead but no one heard it.

Simple men are dreaming about calling him back to hit.

In a town called Vasharhey four men found the key:

Let’s get  a ship and visit the Leader  in Turkey


They will carry the Prince, the fire will be rekindled

So the Viennese great Lords will become more kindred.

They did not even dream that all of them will be killed

Cut into four after torture – the populace was thrilled.


Queen Mary Therese’s Palatine, Batthyányi

Each morning he cuts his moustache - just a tiny.

Silver cup is brought in by a young servant girl,

As usual her ear is hit, it is grace given by the Earl.


Sonnenfels Counselor was leaving a note here,

A Jew who became Christian so we all hear

His counsels are well received in the Queen’s high Ear

From now on only German Theatres can play the whole year.


Palatine has invited the Sonnenfels family for a date

Together with the Greek Prince  the great Mavrocordates.

The son of the Jewish Lord and the son of the Greek Prince

Became friends and both have caused many girls to whince.


They went arm in arm to the dark taverns.

Both went to bed with the same girl during travels.

They spent many years in such brotherly love

It did not occur to them that this may get a bit tough.


Little Marcus, brown guy, had some funny feelings:

As if he would be more attracted to the Count than to girls.

Not knowing what to do with such strange desires

He wrote to his Rabbi and him he inquires.


Shneoor Zalman was famous then in the whole of Russia

His teaching was that Jews should begin rushin‘

To Israel  but before that they must collect money

From farming to escape the Tzarist larceny.


This rabbi answered promptly to the boy

Saying such desires many times do buoy.

He should visit his old father ever more frequently

Than his desires will abate, will burn less fervently.


But his father, Sonnenfeld has told his son at once

That he has no time for him, not even an ounce.

His time is needed for the Queen’s countenance.

He cannot spend time for his son’s funny prance.


Marcus told his problem to his Blonde friend

How his heart is pulled to him and he was quite afraid

He added that the Rabbi told him to sit back-to-back

Learning verses from Bible, to diminish the ache.


He told it is ancient knowledge in the Zohar

That there is healing power in touching manly hair.

For it means acceptance for the Inner Child

Which can re-evaluate things just by touching hind.


Okay, let’s start at once, let’s go to our tavern !

All the girls are awaiting us to empty our blood-cavern

So they went, but Marcus still felt quite lost

As if his heart’s idol expected too much cost.


So the young man wrote a letter to his counselor Father

Thinking he will accept him more and he’ll go much further.

He described the people’s plea how they are oppressed

And how sin and punishment are disproportionately pressed..


This has led Counsel Sonnenfeld to write among his plans

On stopping all the cutting off the members of sinful clans.

So the last time ever that men wer cut in four

Happened in Vasharhey as retold in folk-lore.


Xanthos-sons and  Rabbi-sons as an eternal Pair

Are marching through all History like two bright Peer

Once they are Princes, sometimes just servants

With their platonic love staying ever Galants.


Black Evening tonight

This harsh cold  so bites.

On the Tower of the Church

Pigeons simply lunch.






Life seems sometimes

Like a dusty decor

Behind which there chimes

Death the last decoy.


Napoleon from Jaffa just arrived

His soldiers said his love was contrived.

For Junot who really adored him

But he took away his Rank, just a fancy whim.


He has leaned more n his brother Lucien

Who was bale to se through the things of Consuls

First of all how to neutralize Barras

Who had to be paid by lust, and was never embarrassed.


Napoleon  wore a cute tight pantalon

So Barras‘ eyes almost jumped  through the salon.

Josephine was the first wife of Consul Barras

Until Napoleon  took her to go on and harrass.


The three of them decided everything beforehand

„How can I without killing get the upper hand?“

At this epoch they have killed thousands by Guillotine

For the People it has become an awful bloody routine.


The Marquis de Puységur was also in prison

With a grand-daughter of  Bercsényi, the wife of his son,

Rákóczy- and Xanthos ancestors kindred features

Could be seen on her face, not yet ruined by torture.


Puységur was a hipnotiseur on the side of Napoleon

Who knew that by sticking to Jews e can he only gain

So he was joining forces with a few famous Rabbis

Among them Tzemach Tzedek was the first to be.


This wise man has told him, give a task to a woman

Better if she is a family member, who should go to the man

Who is the Main Player, Napoleon, and give him this message.

„Turn to Hypnosis to win over the masses.“

The Rabbi of Lubavich gave him the Jewish Secret

That each week there is a melody, that may have a strong effect

Whoever is singing it, will win a superior force

But on the surface he should look weak or even worse.


Napoleon thanked the advice and gave her a myrth

Than he feigned a Gran Mal fit and fell from horse to earth.


At once the news was everywhere: he was wounded, ill

So the loyal soldiers did close the Convent till

He regained his composure and gave strict orders

To open up the prisons and close the borders.


That is how it happened

That as a First Consul

He was elected Dictator

And wished from his deep soul

To give a lavish Party

to his supporters: all cups full.


The Rabbi’s envoy was present

In the City of the Lights

To beg the Consul prescient

To send Jews to the Goln Heights.


A Greek Count was also there

The Prince of Moldovans

The two of them became friends

Reading the Bible as one.


Both were holding firm beliefs,

In the Letters of the Book

That all the Places and Chiefs

Were metaphors: like a hook.


A hook to grab our hearts deep down

To give us an inner plan

And to see wich body parts shown

Can switch a hidden Light on.


All have seen them together sitting back-to-back

All have thought it is a deep love: but white, and not black.

They have been touching each other in their inner soul

But many others desired them with their bodies, afoul.


Josephine for instance has concocted an evil plan

Wrote a letter saying how  Barras went with the Count to shoot deer

Come, she said, to Rabbi’s Son, come I will show you my dear,

Where Barass and the Blonde Count meet secretly , like a clan.


Then  Josephine gave some coins

To two servant boys

To pretend that they are kissing

And caress each other’s loins.

She just wanted to cause pain

To the young Jewish boy

Because she resented  in vain

How her approach was let down.


In his Diary wrote the Envoy from Lubavich

A few lines before asking toxins from a witch. 

„We were Beauties and so True

Really like in a Dream

Rarely ugly and evil too

I have lost the Past’s key.



I did not know it can be so painful

I did not know I love you so:

I just watch those trees like a fool

Crying. Laugh at me, do.


I want you to caress me again

And from your eyes let serenity ooze!

Just look contented and not in vain,

And be again so grandiose!


I would like to die to go after you now

To wait some years with you under the earth

Till we resurrect as it was in a vow

And we can sing again from our hearth.


We would just sing how life is worth while

To live because it can be filled by love

And we would stay together for a while

And our hands would touch like wings of a dove.


You were to me like Prana for a Yogi

Like Golden Apple in the Desert of Gobi

A Garden full of Prunes, Ananas and  Bread

Oh, but without you, everything is dead.

I never thought to encounter such terrible days

That from now on I will sleep without happy dreams

I imagine you entering through that open door

And you put your hand on my hip, and I want more.“


Count Mavrocordato did not go to his Burial

He decided to become a Monk,

He did not care about his country, killings were serial,

But he just took his guitarre and sang a tearful song.


„I  loved you as much

As a baby loves his mom

I learned to live and to munch

My life for you and now I got mum.


We have made many mistakes

We were too much afraid

Our life has had all it takes

For you only I was made.


Let us look around soberly

My heart is like a cemetery

I was not able to go and carry

You through the waters and stay merry.


I just fell in, and I see

There is no moral left

But I feel I am like Thee

Stony like a Coral Cliff.“




Whimpy-whompy clouds.
The city is buzzing.
The shore of the gutter
Is weedy in winter.

In 1844 we have a Sunspot Year 
John Smith the Mormon got killed
But we must only use those cases 
Our need to find a Xanthon should be fulfilled.

Daniel Csányi was the Uncle of my great-grand-aunt
He wanted to kill Governor Kossuth, being friend of the Habsburgs.
In those days Kossuth was out of prison
He could not account for the orphans‘ funds.

The plot got locked in Csányi’s drawer 
And after the war in Fifty-One
He took the table to a carpenter for mending.
But he forgot the plan and he was reported.

There was no mercy at the Martial Tribunal of Haynau -
Although the mother of Haynau was Jewish - he was sentenced to many years.
So Uncle Csányi was closed into a cell thus
And by chance his cell-mate was none other than Xántus.

Floris Rómer was with them, in the very same cell
Whole day long they read the Bible and solved numerical riddles.

Xántus then escaped from prison and went to America
He was living among Indians and became Consul of Mexico. 
He came home in Sixty-Six and started to found the Zoo. 

They came together for years The Csanyis and Floris Romer,
And they discovered how they were related to the Xantus Clan.
Csányi’s great-great-great-grandmother was Mary of Homonna
Whose Rakoczy and Zrinyi blood joins them to the Greek House.

Whether they were stemming from the Davidic Line
May be just a legend, but maybe it is right.

A few years previously In Haynau’s prison
Rabbi Löw , my great-randfather was also in garnison.

From his son Immanuel many plants were named 
Similarly from Janos Xantus as they were colleagues.

This was the Age of Victoria where feelings were suppressed
Men wore high collars and hard hats
No one except Oscar Wilde dared to love another man
But Xántus and Mano Löw dared to be exceptional.

They met regularly, and read the Bible
Compared the stems of Plants: this is thin and that is thick.
They leaned against each other’s back knowing it is healthy
And this will not make their wifes angry.

Their love was gentle held by parties of card games
No kind of Oidipal aberration has entered the picture.
There was no drama, no scandal and no whatever complot
All is totally unique and absolutely complete.

There was an Indian servant in the Xantus household
His main task was to give massage to his lord
John Xantus of Wesey learned from the Natives
That self-acceptance is dependent of touches.

When he died at seventy Löw has weped a lot
And he said, as I heard from his daughter my Aunt

„I did not know it is possible to love somebody so much,
I did not look for laurels by the side of no one else.
I was not able to love no one else before 
And now I love all. That’s how it befalls.

I did not know it was possible to love anyone so deeply
But now it is clear I can share it with any passerby 
I did not know it was possible to love this way a man
But I see now I am unable to give him a burial

He lives now in my heart, it is ticking as he walks
Opening dusty doors and I do feel the stalks.

The Rabbi’s son has not understood why he was so broken
After all they have been tied for so many years – a token
They have chatted from this and that, children and family

So what has stuck him now so deeply that he is so weepy?
Who was after all this Janosh Xantus for him?
Then slowly he realized it was not just a strange whim.
We are never all alone, we have all our ancestry
In our head and we hear them, they are an inner tapestry.

Maybe another Yellow Count and another Old Löw
Has had such a liasion that makes my mind so sad and low.

The Rabbi has closed his eyes and he saw at once a picture
There is a blonde guy running and a spear makes a puncture
He is trying to hit someone in a closed dark cellar
And then this image has disappeared and it was quite clear
That it was a Past Memory or Message from the Future.

Who can know this secret Code? Sunspot Rythms? Year Distances?

Why is it just Eleven Years topping at Forty Five?
How come human aggression is getting most alive
Just at these yearly junctures? And this is why it is important
To know what was the Biblical Melody 
That all Jewish Ancestral rabbis have used as Therapy?

Uncle Manó has written a letter to Rabbi Shmuel of Lubavich
A distant cousin and he asked his opinion or some hints.

In the room of Rabbi Shmuel all chairs are made of gold
And he quotes from the weekly Portion: the Menora is told
To be made of molten gold that is the prescription
So we all have to find out how come Kossuth for gold was sold

Due this he was in prion and escaped the killers
Although the topics are not always relevant
It is the melody that can save the Levant.

So Rabbi Immanuel went on to write his Journal
He did not want to stop the flow of his journey.

I did not know what does it mean to grieve
Maybe we are just taking a stroll
We see the leaves are yellow the road is grey
And suddenly our eyes are full of tears
And you don’t see from the tears where you make a step
The brook of tears is flowing, pouring and trickling
It would be useful to carry your dark glasses
Although nothing special has happened for Ages
Only that that leaf was not red but yellow.

To die, to means you aren’t there. Not alive.
He is not responsible for nothing for a while

Death means also here down on the Earth
That people wear Black from toe to their purse

For some pe
ople there exists a novel theory
That Death can mean the same time a new Recovery

Because when he dies this man who was Too Great
For whom all the others want to be engrained
Then his Death is also just recovery
A Conceptual and virtual birth-memory.

Gap on Being. Hand on Sky. Transforms almost all.
Dagger in Heart, Pouring Blood my Flame has froze.
And if this reaches someone from David’s Thread.
This will change Time and Space however you dread.

This has happened every time in each Forty Five years
And this coincidence series enlivens the fields
There we were with someone from the Xanthos Clan
In Eig
hty Nine when Romer died because his Royal Disciple
Has fallen in love with a Xantus-Baltazzi whose Uncle was a cripple.
Our Theory gave birth to a Miracle in Ninety Thirty Four
When the Serbian King was killed no one knows what for.

Mist covers the clouds
Buzzing rumbling towns
Ice covers the gutter
It is not weedy any more.




The lamp is yellow now
A homeless man is whining
In a riverbank stop
For a tramway, waiting.

Romer was the teacher of Archduke Rudolph 
Family lore tells he was chosen by Mary
To help her attract the Crown Prince 
As they were first cousins, always gay and merry.

Romer was a priest too, legends always mention
That on the fateful day there was a priest present
Coincidentally the same year he went on
Dying – early death for a witness that Fate has sent.

Romer in Fifty-One sat together in prison
With the great-grandfather of Xántus and Kozma’s great-granduncle.
From then on our family has listened in unison
Who befriended whom, and from what an angle.

Josef Jits-haq rabbi was a child at that time
He has shown his father, where Doctor Freud was living.
Freud has asked the Rabbi of Lubavitch how he finds
Time to learn and what he does to become forgiving.

The rabbi has told him the Secret of the Jews
That their God is the Future dictating to the News.
And he added, that they have a few Year-Numbers
Which influences all people’s characters. 

And he added an important tenet
The main thing is what our eyes is looking at
Or what our hands grab, as all our body parts 
Are important, some do cause good things while others do cause harms.

It is painful and surprsing, to watch a Back causes good
When an eye looks at a Rear: it causes recovery by intellect.
Probably because the form of Globe is the picture of Future.
And he told how in dreams Past and Future has met.

This system will be transparent only when
We know that Sunspots do influence sentiments
That is why we have several figures: Father is Seventy two year distance
It is the Goal, while Mother is Intellect, sixty-three year askance.
Then comes Sister, the Lack in a distance of Fifty-two 
All these together, in a family-like dance certain effects do too.

Exactly in the way as Schopenhauer had inklings
How Intellect gives the Concept, Cause-and-Effect‘s Shadow.
And the Year-Distances belong to the Sphere of Feelings
While Behavior is taught from Grandfathers to Grandsons. 

That is how recovery belongs to the distance of Forty-Five years
Brother gives solutions where the Sister just yearns.

Everybody thus has an Overworldly Taste
Where Mind is the Sky and Feelings are Waters 
Some may have been on that level only for a short test
But then he used to be handsome and more beloved than others.

Certain people get this Ageless Age when they were just babies
Others get it when Young Hunks
And certain others only in their old years.
An example is Rimbeaud, another one: Gorki.

Future has an effect on the Past beyond Time and Space:
Its holder is Beauty, what we see in Dreams.
It would be worth while to ponder it, Doctor Freud
Said the Rabbi Dov Baer as an afterthought.

In this system the important thing is the weekly melody
Which is the most frequent in every Bible portion
This will vary from week to week, altogether a dozen
Exactly the amount how much Great Assassins were there.

Each Forty Five years a King is killed or is dead simply
It hints at the death of Egoism as a symptom.
It should be counted what was the weekly topic
As that always hints at the main Star the astrologic.

And to finish it up, let us not forget it
That all Letters are Numbers – it counts what sound is let out.

It is too complex, so no one can see it all alike
That is why it’s better to focus on dreams to analyze
And the level of agression in each and every dream part
Can show us which Ancestor is sending us a dispatch.

All the system is led by the Feeling of a Lover
So behind every Death we should thus discover
That secret Couple whose love was so sweet
Even if Platonic, flowering like weed.

It is also weighty that all this kingly heroes
Are leaders, rabbis, princes – surely our ancestors.
The rest of the people are also revered
As servants, ministers, helpers, muftis and viziers.

When Prince Rudolph has dies, millions loved him and grieved.
Their whole world has collapsed, every part adrift.

But the Essence is beyond our World-Center
It is based on the fact that Baltazzi, as a Xantus-clan member
Has idolized Rudolph who was Son of David and Son of Arpad.
As it was not by chance that Mommy Sissy and Rotschild were good pals.

Baltazzi loved deeply his Archduke, Rudolph
He liked to play in threesome with niece Mary golf.
He only lost his temper once when the Prince has met 
The Indian Servant of Xántus, wearing his head-set.

From than on Baltazzi was rarely asked to come to the Duke
Rudolph went everywhere with his Indian pal, Baltazzi could puke.

And so Baltazzi has lied to the ears of the Prince
That Mary was embraced by the Indian once.
From then on all events have turned rather sour
Fate has not forgiven them: the prince killed that whore.

„Oh, my sweetst Angel, your Wing has been broken?
I will give you mine, I will be your shadow, your token.

Nothing to tell any more, nothing to ask anyone
Those who have died will not be here any more.
Oh, if I could bring back your skeleton, I would paint it gold
I would put it in a glass cupboard, I would kiss it and behold.“

The lamp turns into green
Yellow tram is starting
All his things on the pavement
A homeless is departing




The wind is blowing and the leaves are screeching.
Chessplayers take off a soldier.
The road bathes in a cloud of dust.

We are ever closer o the day of Today
When the Past grabs The Present almost
Our relative, Aunt Claire Balint has a way
Of recounting as the famous writer’s widow,

How Anthony Szerb was friends with Cécile de Tormay
Whose Anti-Semitic rants caused a slight dismay.
Still they went together to the Salon of Anatole France
Togethe with young Proust: quite and age distance.

The Jewish Proust was than courting a girl, Laure
But she had to make a living, so she worked as whore.
But only Kings and Princes were in her clientele
And Serb Prince Alexander with whom they were „pele-mele“.

Years and decades have passed
War and Peace harassed
Everyone then came Governor Horthy
Who will maybe depart only in the Forties

His main sponsor was a cousin of Aunt Tormay,
And by chance his name was Kozma may as it may
He knew a money-man of Hitler, named Wrangel
Who ordered him to kill the Serb King, Alexander.

Why? Because Albert of Habsburg deserved it.
Being the groom of a deposed Tzar Daughter
The only blockage caused by her sister 
Who was an anti-Nazi , the wife of Alexander 

King Alexander has had not even an inkling 
Though his men have eavesropped Nazis without sparing 
Happily his yacht has arrived to Marseilles
Watching in his uniform the awaiting masses.

We hear some shots: one...two...maybe three
A movie camera was there so we can all see.
Barthou, the Minister was hit by a bullet and collapsed
Later it was found out that it came from a guard who has lapsed .

Kirov’s killing in Thirty-Four was maybe more important
But there we cannot find a Xantus-ancestor, no Uncle, no Aunt.
The Chetnik guy hired by Kozma has his mother’s name on file
Baltadzhieva was the name – so he stays with us for a while.

This is a list where each forty-five years
A Xantus-clan member is present among killers 
Sometimes among passerbys we have a Rabbi ancestor 
The surface is bloody but there is a deeper vector.

If ever we could live open-eyed in our world
The common thought of Buddha, Jesus would
Enter in us, together with Moses and Mohamed:
They tell us not to fear when the surface is damned.

In this world there are only physical causes
Nonsense if we jump up and down: consequences are set.
But on a conceptual level, we have an alternative:
ypal-family may become renovative.

Proust, Laura and Alexander, they all have danced Can-Can
As Father, Mother and Brother – this was hated by the Clan
Xantus-Baltazzi is starting from Sister-Lacking sphere
He has shot to block us all to step out from Time-Space.

Tony Szerb and Cécile de Tormay 
Happened to be in Marseilles not far away
And in the time of the assassination
They have tried to make money to save their beloved nation.

So they smuggled a diamond 
From their friend Queen Zita
And they have hired a chauffeur
Son of the Indian who served Xántus

Tony Szerb has all the way 
Watched the neck of the Red Man
While Cécile has flirted a shy
Servant girl imagining she was the One.
Each evening they kneeled down to pray
And asked they fantasy God
To take way their sinful desires
And let them think that sex is not good.

They hoped that the ancestral curse
Slowly really disappears
And they may start a new course
Where they will not watch rears.

Cécile has at least discovers
In a book called Zohar 
That two men should sit back-to-back
And maybe let out some tear :

From this non-ero
tic touch
Their self-respect will be built up
And they will feel like a man
And for women their sense will be lit up.

So they have decided
To test this method right then
Tony has felt much better
He stopped drinking in his den.

Ne need to sex ever more,
If one gets embraces daily.
One must only organize
To get it regularly.

They decided to tell about it
To their Friend Alexander the King
As he will be helped by it
Wounds from Proust still aching

Unfortunately that eve
When they finished their letter
In the Evening Newspaper
The word „Death“ has appeared

Wind is blowing, leaves are screeching.
Chessmakers take off a peasant.
It is not nice from Fate to take off someone
While we cannot say a word against.


The follopwing video is dedicated to Geo Cosmos' close friend and co-writer 

János Xantus. Born: 1953. Died in 2012.  He was a filmmaker in Hungary. His movies: "Diorissimo" and Werther" are on Utube and  also his full length movie the "Eskimo Woman is Cold". 

In Hungarian.