Disillusioned II

I've given in to my solitude
At least that's how I'll relate to you,

And though it is no possible
Can you convince me when I'm with you
We have no trouble; we are too redundant to be afraid of death
From the thousands of stray bullets that dot
Every inch between you and I, and man and man?

And though it is no lewd
Can you show how we can make love
And there are no worries for posterity,
For all we would have is a union of love,
No worries for giving birth to crooks and kitsch?

And though it is so apparent
Can you believe we have a life beyond this slum
Our life in the lowest of the lowest scum
We can survive with money and we can survive with guns
And what use are of—your dreams and your company,
your knowledge, your wisdom, your experience?

And though you have given me a thousand statements
How sunshine is important and our lives so precious
How knowing is good for real and our smiles make us angels
How thinking is and how talking is and how we are,
What do you do when I give a damn?

Would you stop telling me about your dreams?
I could be sleeping
Would you stop telling me what you are doing when I wake up?
I might still be sleeping.
I might as well be waking but that does not make a difference.


Disillusioned I
(An edited version of a piece written on 12 Feb 2010)

Darkness, I saw
Contradiction, isn’t it—
The sight of darkness?
The rule we call it
Of bondage,
Of our folks and all,
The binders
The feel-good factors
Oh and we are fucking human beings.

This gloominess,
It stands for our time:
And we excrete our wildness
In this cosmic ghetto
We called it our world and universe and what not.

Argue                  For the sake of pleading
Fight                   For the sake of killing
Work                  For the sake of earning
Die                      For the sake of living.

What else we have
For when we leave
Solely the dust remains.



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