Debt Slaves, Silenced.. (poem)
ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF SOLITUDE
And there will be healing bread
It's like not going to work.
Connect the dots...
And for the good summer past
Same-loss
The same lost
Talk on the tube
Drug - in a syringe
Not living - but dying free!
The love we loved
We now have grieved
No longer shared
Painted houses with drunken fair
We were called cargo,
climbing into our bodies
falling down stairs
Wandering around the world, like lice in the back of your head
We wandered triumphantly through unwashed streets,
in our hard-working minds
Sacred Bodies
On wet ceilings
Waiting out our time
Falling out after one another like baby teeth
We were dangling in spirit and crying
Bubbles alone in little tears
Playing with our pocket knives,
In the pockets of our wool jackets
With bulging might, invincible!
Like god-burned pots
We lurked behind our backs
Pies in the sky,
Dreaming of some other night!
Fakery
Fairy tales
Arabesques
On the seventh day we rested to no avail:
Let it be sudden
Let it be unheard of
Let it go straight to the throat
Let it be straight-razors out of the mirror
Ugly torn grim forms, under the skin coarse-meat fibres
My unauthorized joy,
A BIG spring!..
Beaming from the eye
A speck of light at sunset
Kissing the irrepressible palms at dawn
Some God's nod
I fly out to cock all the glass doors shut
before the storm
and lighting candles
Another ferocious love story
Sad fairytale about an empty piggy bank
A funny anecdote about how Columbus "discovered" America
Lucky as a pawn in a game of chess
But some saw this years ago,
decades, centuries!
We just forgot
New Year's Eve, after a full moon, happily clenched its fist
The only one, ringing in the New Year!
The only one, cowering in fear
Wonderful, like a hundred voluntary years of
Loneliness.
Incomprehensible!
2020
π (pi) ku
.
And there will be healing bread
It's like not going to work.
Connect the dots...
And for the good summer past
Same-loss
The same lost
Talk on the tube
Drug - in a syringe
Not living - but dying free!
The love we loved
We now have grieved
No longer shared
Painted houses with drunken fair
We were called cargo,
climbing into our bodies
falling down stairs
Wandering around the world, like lice in the back of your head
We wandered triumphantly through unwashed streets,
in our hard-working minds
Sacred Bodies
On wet ceilings
Waiting out our time
Falling out after one another like baby teeth
We were dangling in spirit and crying
Bubbles alone in little tears
Playing with our pocket knives,
In the pockets of our wool jackets
With bulging might, invincible!
Like god-burned pots
We lurked behind our backs
Pies in the sky,
Dreaming of some other night!
Fakery
Fairy tales
Arabesques
On the seventh day we rested to no avail:
Let it be sudden
Let it be unheard of
Let it go straight to the throat
Let it be straight-razors out of the mirror
Ugly torn grim forms, under the skin coarse-meat fibres
My unauthorized joy,
A BIG spring!..
Beaming from the eye
A speck of light at sunset
Kissing the irrepressible palms at dawn
Some God's nod
I fly out to cock all the glass doors shut
before the storm
and lighting candles
Another ferocious love story
Sad fairytale about an empty piggy bank
A funny anecdote about how Columbus "discovered" America
Lucky as a pawn in a game of chess
But some saw this years ago,
decades, centuries!
We just forgot
New Year's Eve, after a full moon, happily clenched its fist
The only one, ringing in the New Year!
The only one, cowering in fear
Wonderful, like a hundred voluntary years of
Loneliness.
Incomprehensible!
2020
π (pi) ku
.