I – Stop, Drop and Roll
Four by four, the fire starts
With the fiery heart a pounding
Heads are rolling in their carts
The knives are long, resounding
Missiles fire and passion sparks
The torture mounts within
And everything the JEDI marks
Shows the war is to begin.
To want to kill, to want to die
What is this fire in my chest
I once could swim, I once could fly
I once could curse, I once was blessed.
And blackness starts to grow about
The Buddha nature is cold
But the saviour in my heart is strong
And makes me will to be bold.
Every act is dangerous
And every thought is scarce
Is there such a thing as independence
When you want to care.
To guard the demons that escape
To count the angels sacred
To devour the universe in a cape
That hides you in its black and red.
I know not where this fire began
But I know it’s cold as ice
I know what only Buddha knows
But I know it’s not only nice.
The fire consumes a sacred dance
And burns into the flesh,
But every student learns by chance
Until his final crash.
There is power to create and will to destroy
But, there’s still an anxious choice
Once we have sculpted out the boy
And we have lost the voice.
The fire burns far, the fire eats deep
And grows our sickness near
It is not will that we be steep
I direct troops from the rear.
I see the war is brooding on
Until now, It’s only cold
Until one day when it is gone
And we know we have to fold.
II -- Love and other Heinous Acts
Star-crossed lovers
Merry the ship
While whipping boys scream
For all that is sick
Mighty war follows years of Love
But who shall be singing from above
The laurels lain, the prince forlorn
Perhaps from one another we are torn
We hit the roof, then smoke cigars
Perhaps we’ll have our Muscle cars
Joined by love, and songs of hate
When the boys learn how to skate
And dance on ice with crosses borne
Then I shall again blow my horn
After vanquishing illusions samsara dead
Who will be the first to lose a head
And to not lose your head, you’ll shave your hair
At least you’ll know your price is fair.
But I pray with my voice and guitar
Lord knows this will take you far
And by my music, I know my price
For I have long been far too nice.
III – Thief in the Temple
In the body, there’s a thief
Who steals thought, beyond belief
With heightened anxiety, there is no relief
And only one can give him grief.
Thieves steal diamonds in the mind
Jewels and treasures tossed behind
Take care to guard within the grind
Most of us out there aren’t blind.
I know not what to say, and yet I throw
From wither I come, to whence I go
I’ve seen it all from down below.
Better still, to watch it flow.
There is a doctor, who is free
And there he believes in liberty
But it is limited, and so are we
And thieves still say, just let it be.
The body is a temple where spirits enter
Hibernating throughout the winter
Thieves feel compassion, that’s what they’re after
But really there’s no destined laughter.
Ali, the thief, in the grocery store
Lifts candy bars, for a score
He’ll steal your drawers if you get sore
What’s a thief, but a warrior’s whore.
IV – The metronome and the Colour Wheel
Time ticks by
As all walls vanish
And unity persists
In a dialectical relationship
With autonomy
Now society
Rhymes with time
And the colour wheel
Reflects the wave lengths
Of various speeds
Ultraviolet fast
Infrared slow
White, brown and black
Only the Buddha knows
Shadows are dead
And time flies
Are those knives in her eyes?
Tighten your grip
Don’t let it slip
The mask is shaky
And lest we falter
There will be no more snow
A pretty falling of thick flakes
Only the Lord knows what he bakes
I’ll tell you one thing
It isn’t cakes
As time flies by
As red as eye
Do not be shy
Yet, there is only limited liberty
A cast of three
A sailor am I
Now and then a little spy.
Dumbfounded
A swastika likens one
To humble greatness
Icons of the collective mind
Did I fall behind?
But that is from where
I control the ranks
This mastermind
Is so inclined
To keep war in
And peace out
For now, this time
Is all we have.
The metronome ticks
The lightning flickers
And then I shut the door.
V – Spirit Matters
Don’t go down
Descend to the abyss
There’s an apple in your throat
And a watermelon in your bliss
There’s a star shaped in the sky
With five points, just like a fish
There will be a war in Cuba
And that’s one I don’t want to miss
We’re moving to democracy
Of a saner socialist side…
VI – Agape and Eros
You had to change your sheets again
Reaching out, with hungry
Selfless pleasures. Do you despise
This mercy in my eyes? Compassion
Is deadly, when we search for shelter
In the arms of another.
They are loaded. Pistols of pleasure
Desire, a thankless art,
The heart surrenders to another’s longing.
Past the desert fields of emptiness
This relinquishment of the ego
Has no greed attached. But the erotic
Pornographic houses of despair
Are filled with angry men
Who lost love’s calling
Long ago. They can’t pretend
That they are not without care
For they are mastered by their hunger
Under this blanket of stars, I grasp
All the moanings of the wind
And through the window of my heart
I gaze out at the misty deserted streets
Where women dance with men at their arms
A tangled embrace of the world of pleasure
Shadowed by our needs, we empty our pockets
Of desire, and still our tongues cleave
To the roof of our mouths, for fear
Of revealing our passion. It is fashion
To relinquish ourselves of passion
For we fear our lust, as animals
Fear the invasion of their terrain.
It is the annihilation of our egos
That separates us from mere mortals
We care for the friendship
That is lost, where most is found
Friendship, true, is a thankless art
And our mouths gape open as our hearts
Reach out with our arms, to apprehend
The other’s need. But Eros, is selfish,
A need to cling to another’s longing.
We have both, and honour both,
As vital to the human’s faculties
Of emotions. Tender and violent,
We become, more like ourselves
Every day, to desire, and to
Abandon desire, we are torn,
Out of necessity, to play.
VII – Stigmatised
Hanging from a cross
Jesus – we only need one Jew
Abracadabra – he is had
The goat is slain
And the Shepherd is saved –
Consecrated with a glass of red wine
The blood goes trickling down the wrists
A union of Heaven and Hell
Get in line, take a number
Christmas has come, the trinity is forged
But there shall be no more chambers
Of gas. The little ones shall cry
No more, Empty are the vessels
Of tomorrow’s song. At least, they are hopeful
For the sun. Shadow boxing, in a land
Full of apparitions. The twin towers
Have already fallen. There shall be no more
Violence in this land. Forsaken is their song –
The infidel is dreary of his war; Cain
Shall no longer betray his brother
And the winds shall speak the word.
And who shall cry for the Green Lion
When all is said and done
A wreath upon his grave
And flowers for his tome –
For works of majesty
And mastery of the arts
A claim for fame, if not for fortune
Wisdom of signs upon his dead brow
Cradled in his death’s embrace
No longer a pirate on these restless waves
Of disembodied poetics
Sending signals through the flames
Stealing from the bright-eyed soldiers
To make his life and death unique
A brother in arms, of infidels
The best and worst of his generation.
There is no more longing for embrace
Now that all men have seen his face
A shadow that comes and goes
Across all remote controlled stations
On the airwaves, now dead as Pound
Sheltered from the winds
By this clay and clammy earth –
He once was a player, whose worth
Was cast in this shadow show
And now his time has passed
His turn is coming fast
Broadcast to his fate
The hour is getting late, for him
To change his song. It will not be long
Before his name is placed up high
A wizard he was, to devour all things
The sun was his radiant focal point
And now he’s out of joint.
So, who shall cry for him,
That master of elegies and dirges
Who shall write for him, when he
Himself is gone. There are no poets now
He kissed a sacred cow, and now
He is gone, fleeting as the wind
Evanescent as light through the branches of the trees.
VIII – Theatre of War
I run on stage
You act your age
You look both ways
I’ll give you paradise
In the shape of a glass
As the temple was broken
In the shape of a vase.
You know my name
and what I do
I stake my claim
To Timbuktoo.
There is a moral
To this tale
A patient pilgrim
Drinking Adam’s ale.
I know no more
Than I’d say right
For now, there will be no more hate
And only brevery sight.
IX – Tight lips sink ships
Tight lips sink ships
Better go out shooting from the hip
Boy does he make lots of slips
Just to get a taste of her luscious lips.
War for the woman, war for the man
Even gods have known a plan
You’re my one and only fan
Just like gold in a sifting pan.
More for you and more for me
More for our forsaken liberty
Tripartite now, I know my cree
After placing democracy in jeopardy
Give me a line I can understand
Give me a foot, give me a hand
For stealing all the Jewels from beneath the sand
I could start a matching band.
Mercury heats and it dissolves
I pray to the Lord, that he absolves
Me from the crimes of mind and heart
That would be a beautiful start.
X – Vigilance
Vigilance, keep aware
Faire, I see buckets everywhere
The voice changes over time
What has become of the sublime
In this reverie
Climb a tree
Monkeys peeling banana feel
Now you know just how I feel –
Until the day my ink runs dry
And even after when I still try
Fry, I will, when my words are through
Images, ideas, music, too
I am an artist of Holy Seven
Perhaps out of Hell, we’ll make a heaven
Eleven, it must be my second time round
So I try to write it without a sound
But that is how my name big
Smudging symbols in the air, so dig
There’s some beauty of illusion in the night
That’s mustered up from saved up light.
WE’re caught within a story of sheets
Nothing ever exactly repeats
The same thing, in the same way, twice
Doesn’t that make history not so nice
But riddles help us understand the day
And breath life into this worn-out clay
Deliver us from evil and transgression
Or else we’re doomed to fall into regression
The boat is filled with many men
You can count them out by scores of ten
They are travelling to the promised land
Discovering the world, or so they planned.
And so the only real Canadian is Indian
Not the type that wears a turban
But a warrior, nonetheless, who carries Pride
Because the Europeans lied.
They were given language, religion, drugs
They were given alcohol to take back in slugs
But it was the white man who truly robbed his land
Now the world of power, we understand.
Grace is earned, and grace deserved
Pitches fast and pitches curved
From this brief tale I hope you hear
Why some men stay and some men disappear.
XI – Underground
There’s a fight underground
So I’ll take a little trip
And I’ll try not to make a sound
Aboard this sunken ship.
Nobody knows the fatal cost
That we pay for our daily bread
And all that’s won and lost
That goes swimming to my head.
Dead are they without a thought
Dead to night and day
Look at all the fish he’s caught
When out at work and play.
So, sometimes a monk when he is still
To cut the idle chatter
For poet’s there’s a time to kill
In effigy, in matter.
Images and ideas flow
Within this infinite body
Sometimes fast and sometimes slow
Sometimes humble, sometimes haughty.
So work when you work, and rest at rest
The ship goes bobbing in the sea
What I’ve done, I’ve cursed and blessed
For trying to be free.
I’ve taught hundreds in the school
I’ve acted for thousands on the stage
But the only thing is cool’s a rule
That helps you turn the page.
A poet craves order in his feet
Some rhythm in his lines
He shows the world the one to beat
Like there are no other kinds
So sail the waves and if you sink
Like a captain you go down
Hope you’ve had enough to drink
You’ll have your fill when you drown.
Memory is like a box
We store heirlooms in a chest
Then we bound it up with locks
And save it for the best.
The day of reckoning all our sins
The day of reverie
I wonder when it all begins
A new life that I can see.
I suppose you sift the sands of life
And pull out a few gems
Be lucky if you have a knife
That’s how the next stage stems.
And then you carry home your cross
And never once look back
Or there’d be far too much loss
Just winnings at the track.
Words and image drawn from air
Music of the goddess too
How to make this world fair
With your neighbour red, white and blue.
You do what you must, and what you can
To respect your neighbour’s sanctity
There really is no master plan
And that really is the pity.
For with a semblance of divine order
There’d seem to be some meaning in this life
But as for now we mark our borders
And pray not to live in strife.
Now they say that He has come
Now they say He’s gone
Maybe He arrived for some
Maybe His work is done.
XII -- The Pharaoh’s Heart
On this dear earth I do depart
And watch the Father harden Pharaoh’s heart
As he observed the suffering of slaves
Building fortresses, pyramids, he saves.
And know the world in destined plight
To deem the Jews as but a blight
So hard to give within this war
But the Lord wanted Pharaoh for the score.
To do this he had the Hebrews at his mercy
Begging, crying, to be set free,
But the lord implored their suffering
As but an eternal offering –
To show that by the suffering of men
He would have them hold the ten
Commandments that were achieved by labour
And so the Israelites died for honour
To their God who could have set them free
Save some lives at his mercy
But instead he chose to harden his heart
To make the Jews sweat by their art
And when the Lord finally let go
Moses led the Israelites know
That they would be released from whips
And shackles by their fingertips
They crossed the sea, and in the flood
The Aegyptions sank down with the mud.
So honour the Lord that wet you free
For you now dwell in liberty.
And if you have an adversary
As big as Pharaoh, you will see
Make him tough as the Lord did he
For you measure your might by your enemy.
But, faith is stronger than pure reason
Give regards to your season
If you wonder who is harder
If you wonder who is farther
Down the road in strength and wisdom
On the Golden way to the kingdom
Black and White will balance out
Turn to whispers from your shout
Moses will tell you what it’s about
Making snakes without a doubt
The poet knows what has become
And gets it out, or sucks his thumb
The tragedy and absurdity of the day
Some shall fight and some shall play
But harden your heart, lest you make a fool,
The walk of life may be your school.
XIII – The Apiary
She comes to me, in a frenzy
Like a swarm of bees
The Holy Spirit, a Jungian affair
Crowded, yet alone
I withstand the onslaught
Of voices in my ears
And in my heart, I am solitary
Yet comforted by man
The hand that rocks the cradle
Yields the knife
With resolution, the son
Knows no better of a departure
But a line of verse, that suspends
The swarm, a host, that never relents
But in a moment of gesticulation
In between a heart beat, when time stops
With a fleeting verse.
XIV – Astral Pollution
Visual projection, inclined
To the power of persuasion
Where the mind sees all
But knows too little
And meddling friends
See no dishonour
To but save a soul
From depravation, to cause a wave
By silent noise, humming
Looking through the mirror glass, darkly
I’m surprised I remember
In this chain of being
Where the thief summons the abyss –
Slow down oh hoary thought
I am too weak, to cultivate
Your garden, this flower bed
Of murky alliance.
XV – The cosmos
The cosmos, a conundrum
Of overworked ants
I am tortured, suffering
But, if only but by magick
I am through
The eye of the needle
Really, we are not so bad
But to folly the mistakes of others
Is to betray the wisdom found
From within their evil
Learn from history, plot
Non-aversion, non-attachment
Containment, and an arsenal
Of weapons for the enthralled
If I am not a man
If I am only a man
What am I? What am I not?
XVI – Wolves and Sheep
Lay down with wolves
Or tend your sheep
Whatever you do
It doesn’t come cheap
Mourn your life
Or be a man
Live life fully
To the master plan
Contend with makers
Design in the night
Mind your manners
And be polite
Care for the living
And honour the dead
Be very forgiving
And wear white and red
Slow things down
Be wary of your pitch
Pull things off
Without a hitch
Stay for your woman
She makes things right
And if you dare slip
Keep it well out of sight
Know your fables
And try not to teach under
For if you do
You’ll hear plenty of thunder
Give and take in time
Be a good host
Don’t depend on your rhyme
To make a good toast
Take a gift where it’s given
And try not to holler
Go for what you’ve striven
Don’t get hot under the collar
Don’t be a stranger
But don’t be too candid
You’re no forest ranger
So keep things well hid.
XVII – Corruption
The more corruption
The less thought
This is how
The truth is bought
Well past death
I’ve reached the summit
This might be your last breath
You might take a plummet
It is the school
Of disembodied verse
I am no fool
I could be worse
Is there such thing
As a free thinker
I’d give a ring
To my sinker
The day is gone by
And still I dream
I’ve got fish to fry
Up the stream. Some say I’m big
Some say very little
The same old gig
Just stuck in the middle
Mind control
You’ll make a muscle
Now I’m full
So I have to hustle
Words aren’t cheap
So I make it fair
You sow and reap
So be prepared
Harness drums
Watch out for propaganda
Pulled apart at the seams
I’ll write another stanza
Scope is all
There is to it
So watch the war
You’ll make of it.
XVIII -- Lovers and Haters
You can take the lovers
And the haters too
Watch them undercover
The false, the true
Discourse of
A sacred oath
The Lord above
Take them both –
A man is he
Who bides his time
Not in reverie
But to seek the sublime
You never know
In this haunted cavern
How to teach and grow
And how to learn
And now corruption
Takes the best of this man
With great disruption
He plots his plan.
To give the world
His holy art
As he’s unfurled
And gives his heart.
There is no place
Better than this earth
To be an ace
For your rebirth
And night-time falls
Upon this land
Perhaps these last calls
Are all he’ll understand
I’m graced with friends
And strangers too
To whom he bends
Towards the true.
The moon is up
I see her face
And just for my last sup
Everything is in place,
I’ll say my grace.
XIX – Revolution of Consciousness
The mind’s eye wanders
Beyond the parameters of self
And whatever it squanders
Can still be placed on the shelf
Call me an angel, a devil, an elf
There’s no more history until you die
As the king ponders –
Wasted thought rings true
But by the cross
I’ll write, I’ll fight, I’ll play, I’ll sing
Perhaps I’ll get a diamond ring
For a wife
It is my life, after all
And it is what you make of it
Do you have to see, before you feel free?
I go with Tibet
I wrestle only a bit
And tomorrow is more of the same
I protect my name
For that’s the game
To be free from shame
In humble arrogance
Solipsism would be great
If I could only skate
I’d do it speed
That’s how I read
There is no need
To kill what’s there –
A power bar for lunch
I’ve got a sneaking hunch
That we’re all prepared
For what I’ve dared
In writing even
Respect St. Stephen
And Krist will have you
Heathen or Jew
Never fear
The ghost is clear.
XX – Excuse the Devil
Wait! I hear
Your voice in my ear
So pleasant, I fear
I’m a lost seer
Found, my friend
Perhaps this isn’t the end
But we have so much to mend
This song to you I send.
Youth overflowing
And still you are growing
Reaping and sowing
To you, I am owing
All thanks and good wishes
And restaurant dishes
Alice who fishes
Aren’t you so delicious.
XXI – Children of the Book
Quiet, please, silence in your prayers
Oh foolish hearts, who rush in swarms
Like killer bees who ignite their own flames
In fiery whisps of red, orange and blue
The abyss will take you in your haunting cries
You in black garb and hats, cloaks
Of Rabbis, teachers and pupils
Who dare to absorb all light
To dance like angels on the stage of life
Can we not catapult ourselves back
In time and out of this luxury of thought
Where those who teach underground
Hold not resentment, but memory and pride
Which hold them back from further
Spiritual progression in light and tranquility.
Your wars come back to haunt you
For you lack courage in your conviction
Of studies, wherefore the budding trees
Of spring and may, hold not a song
For the white blackness of winter
Where you shelter yourselves in infinite
Longing and despair. Your jokes
And comedies are no longer funny
Your wit and answers hold no sway
And you shall be punished, like all
The rest, who dare to overreach
With arrogance in their humility –
Praise, bless, curse in these times of tribulation
We move fast in times of tribulation
And I know not what I do
However, there is more to come
In Poland they had it too
In Palestine and Israel
The war wages on the fastest
Where the mighty and the hellbent
Are the first to curse and be blessed.
My shadow shows the time of day
And we should never more forget
There is a time to play
A time to rise and set.
And in your prayers that haunt me
I ask you to be king
To fight to be the men
In your ghostly offering.
Faint Rash
Journey on
This under war
Bliss be with
And four the score
Give and take
I wish you will
Some dwell in Heaven
some dwell in Hell
Demise of some
By infractions dear
Master Dum
Let’s raise a chear
Deserted by
The angels night
I am a fly
that seeks by night
Fathom darkness
And you’ll see
What’s in the harness
The war to be free
Conquer yourself
And the adversary
You’re not an elf
You’re not a cherry
Just cause int’s night
It could be wrong
Loosen your vow
To sing a song
Quiet the mind
And still the heart
What’s left behind
Remains in art.
There is a sentry
That guards the soul
Some don’t permit entry
To make them whole
But halves we are
When seeking our bride
Soon there is no
Nothing left to hide
Keep it all
Suprapersonal
You’re in for the long haul
So do not dwell
Zeugma Generation
We are so attached
Yet objectively removed
The slightest pin drop
Will set the globe amused
Adventures of the body
Adventures of the mind
Have set us all so free
Resurrection kept in mind
Holy as a sage
Broken as a host
To sing a drunken adage
To the one we love the most
I’ll tease you out in rhythm
I’ll tease you out in rhyme
You can’t live life in a prison
You can’t live life as a crime.
There is little left for hoping
There is little to bless and curse
You can’t desist in groping
That makes it all the worst.
Neither a shallow grave shall fit him
Nor one that’s far too deep
The one that has a writ him
Is the one that’s far too steep.
The ghost moves in strange ways
I broke the phone and the t.v
I’ve written many plays
I’ve set the world a free
We are neither slaves nor kings
We are neither paupers nor rich men
We’ve had us many flings
Circled round the numb eleven
And now I’ll drop my pen
And without another word
I’ll paint the world in my den
I’ll paint it so absurd.
It’s not only the supreme
It’s not only the surreal
Everything is so sublime
There will soon be nothing left to heal.
We are all God’s children
In the beginning
And in the end
Some go to heaven
Some sink to Hell
Try me or spare their time
The beat is gold in the sublime.
Cancer eats into my soul
Someone wants to make me whole
The media tells you like it is
Some smash down walls
Some build up bridges
Nonetheless, we’re all brothers and sisters
In this game
That ends with knife and crown
We know no darkness but in skipping time
Compassion itself is a crime.
But wisdom makes me put it down
To show what we have overblown
Ye, we are all God’s children
And the word goes round
Still we try to make it
Without a sound, and poetry
Music, pictures, is the ground
No more mattering what we’ve down
In the present, with an eye
On the future, skipping stones
On the rocky beach, from one
To another, he’s come to teach
And so we all strive for the supreme
Isn’t life but one big dream.
A little note
That suicides leave behind
contextualising a fall
That left deaf and blind
I was a little girl
I was a little man
There are thoughts within my head
That I cannot understand
Jail left me marked
prison left me scarred
Tortured and abused
Then, they said that I’d go far
I have little desire left in me
But to leave a trail of art
That tries to set me free
That tries to set me apart
I’ve the world within my head
And each and every move
Beats the one who bled
Beats the one to groove
I’ve lost a lot for living
I’ve lost a lot to the dead,
There’s some that I’m misgiving
There’s some that feel I’m cracked
I try to write down to my toes
I try to write with all my heart
So this is how the story goes
At least we’ve made a start
I try to think of my audience
Woman, child and man
and all that needs repentance
is in my very plan
I stick within the moatery
The Tibetan temple brings me out
I’m not an ape too hairy
I try to conceal each and every burst
No desire is little in me.
I’ve tried to wipe it clean
Maybe holy matrimony
Will make all blemishes unseen.
I will try to find a woman
A mate for companionship
And maybe when I find her
Once age I will not slip.
Some say marriage is a prison
Some say it’s just a school
Where one love plays the teacher
And one love plays the fool
But if you guard your sanctity
And find a holy way
There’d be more left in the offering
More left in the play.
To kill a soul
To take from another
These are things forbidden
In this confraternity.
The end, we wait
Perfected timing
With the unity of heaven
Within our spirit
Our ghost still haunting
The menacing society
Planned to resuscitate
Our very man.
Impressionistic
The karma yet less attached
To tomorrow, or yesteryear.
Silent and Alone
Like treading water
Over the abyss
And the rain falls down
A reign of terror
This Napster in a hole
As a hermit, as a monk
I love a little child
I love a little ghost
Knowing that a woman
Could make the better host
Mine aren’t parted
To let the spirit out
If only you could hear it
You’d want to scream and shout
And so I aim for silent movies
A dumb show for masonery men.
I’ll stick to the rules of eleven
I’ll stick to the rule of pen
I’m handcuffed to a computer
I’ve a shadow in the screen
I’ll play for five alive
I’ll play for in between –
But socially I’m done for
In this impossible theatre game
No matter how far we’ve come
Things seem to look the same
So’ I’ll practise all my yoga
And sake the heart as awake the mind
Where wolves do howl at the moon
And falcons don’t leave it all behind
As immanent as the Buddha
Who sees all and hears it too
I won’t be discouraged by the lives of men.
Who leave me feeling, rather blue
Blue in the face as Krisna
Silent as the dead
I’m downfallen by my hubris
That makes me rex in bed.
This mind of racing thoughts
Makes me realize transgression
So knitted we are together
We try to avoid any regression
The apple is a bleeding
The eye darts from earth to sky
I count my Buddhist beads.
I try not to let the spirits fly
And know that I’won’t let it slip.
That is if I am able
This all has been a stranger’s trip
To concede nothing to the Babel
Rock, I am as Peter
Tripartite – ghost, man, son
Some say they want to repeat her
Some say that’s lots of four.
But I know history never happens again
In any same way twice
Now we’ve got knew enemies to conquer
Those inside and outside are vice.
Move yourself beyond your sinning
Move yourself to bait a wife
And then you’ll have your child
Something that could save your life
A woman, a child a family a society.
We must build for tomorrow.
In the streets all night
In the pyre of the dusk
Embers still flickering
As we carve away
All desire
For remembrance of things past
For loss of innocence
That, through experience
Breeds transcendence
No one knows
The speed of the gods
That through the firmament
Maintain a sense of order.
And it’s on to the posse
Of social destruction
And decadence, come wild
Upon the fleeting embers
Of dusk. Lifting as thieves
Reserved as a monk
Reticent, and alone.
Sakadaemus oms out at night.
Fallen the stars
That flicker one by one, in the darkness.
We are no more computers,
Than men. We are gods,
Holding strings of the media.
Arts, for the death
Of everything,
The death mask slips
The actor falters,
And the moon waxes.
And so, the drama unfolds.
JD Kruger, GLP4.
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