Memory would flower

Memory would flower
In the quartz garden
Surrounded by warm fox fur
In tune like a guitar string

The shit bears with their death hyenas
Storms of depression and jaws bloody
Envelope the female form with anger
And set the ammunition figs exploding

Memory winds around the headstock
Wisdom tunes it
It presses lightly down onto the fret board
And then even the dead start singing

Everything speaks freedom

Everything speaks freedom
Turtles, birds

The grasshopper with its violin
The throat of a cat

The sun in its light
Knows that darkness is only the night

Everything sings of freedom
Especially when the music plays loud

Especially when the dancers stamp their feet
It frightens only the weak

Only the humbucker in a filed
Sitting on a stalk of dancing wheat

Everything speaks of freedom
How else could it exist

Freedom was found in Genesis
Out of its wood came voices

From the tars released from the grain of something new
Angels flew

Everything speaks of freedom
Even you

If you don’t believe in the spirit

If you don’t believe in the spirit
Then what do you believe in – capitalism
eat your boardroom, eat your car
coal, gas, electricity, go where ever you are

let’s have a look inside your house
cleansed of spider, fly and louse
rooms without character
quickly pass by
this is the house where you steadily die

like a bird in a clean steel cage
like a mouse in a rage

if you don’t believe in the spirit
what’s inside you? Keeping it together
tiny girders, ladders and lifts?
And in your head the straw nest of your wits

And look there you are, laying bricks
Walking the plank with a wheelbarrow
Building a place in which to lie down
That’s you, just like you

In the vats of oblivion

In the vats of oblivion
How drunk we are
How intoxicated
How we stumble
Through the dark
How we ferment
Our blood
To see only
Phantoms
As the clothes
Of our love
Are stained by scarlet
Over a carpet
Of unconscious minds
We lift our glasses
To the four winds

In the vats of oblivion
What was white is now red
What was a church
Is now a prison
What was a prayer
Is now a judgement
The drinkers of blood
Our evil bedfellows
Encircle the wine vats
And trample our life source
And a river of wine
Flows down a mountain
And a cloud of thick smoke
Turns the city to pyro clast

In the vats of oblivion
The consortiums are at work
They trample
Mankind
who are too vain to see
The darkness they support
Like the packs on mules
And their towers of light
Are simply emulsion white

Peace on mars

Peace on mars
Peace on mars
Leave in peace
With your crawling car

Peace on mars
Hail and farewell
May you never feel
The human hell

Do they really deserve to go to mar
Tell me the truth oh God

With their hopes of colonisation
With their desire to find life there
With their desire to drink Martian water

As the rockets blast off
In a burning eruption of flame

Climbing up to the heavens
Flying through the heavens

The world is in a blitzkrieg
Of tangled girders
And soldiers bodies
And broken cities
And constant traumas

Oh Mars do you know
What they take up to you
The bloodstained spot
On the sleeve of their shirts

Still Waiting for Approval

There was the animal scent of protection like a skunk’s protection
As you wear your new face

Your new face, your own real face
A face you had discovered as you

You found it on a bonfire built by the fatherland
You grabbed it out of the flames and put it on

I shook like a mountain when I met you
You were a little man in a humble room

Was I the skunk, it may well be?
I was the skunk and you were the schizophrenic

And we were equalized, but I didn’t want a face
I hate mirrors that mirror my own face

I am a non-face and I am afraid of me

Fire and water are oceans
They are two oceans in one body

I see a hand reaching into them
White like quartz glowing like the light on snow

We are the two personalities of ourselves
We are brothers in the same mind

I am a saucer shape of quiet waters flying in the sky
You are the sky of a distant world

I can identify with you because
I have no personality and you have more than one

To David Kessel, Survivors poet 

david smile

Picture from internet images

 

The photo of a laughing man

The photo of a laughing man
Except he isn’t laughing
It is only a photo
There is no sound of laughter
The expression is frozen
Into a picture
As if it stopped laughing
And fell silent
Then, in that silence
Light and dark became
The surface of paper
And the paper fades
As the laughter fades
And is gone

Photo of a laughing man
Laughing forever because
Even a photograph
Can outlive a man
And if kept between
Two layers of stone in a mountain
It will outlive
The species

A picture of a laughing man
Better than a skeleton
Like two oceans connected by a canal
Two time-periods connected
By a laughing man’s photo
If this is a memory
Who will remember?
When this era is ended
Will someone in the future
Come across it
As he separates the stone layers
Of mountain
And finds a photo
Of a man laughing


 

 

What is justice?

Justice – like paper flowers in a flowerbed
Some of it is useless.
There is a lot of little people who can’t do the math’s
And they are falling down the drain.
The Greek gods were criminals on the mountaintops.
When Trade was bag snatching from the profits of the poor
When did excess become profit instead of joy?
Justice lost her memory and now it thrives on jurisprudence.
Justice made a home in the material world
And began to wear nice clothes.
As the laurel hedge of justice grows big
The wildflowers die from lack of sunlight.
What do you expect of justice?
Mainly I expect Love.
What do you want from justice?
That her blindfold is removed.
Bloodstains never completely fade
Their spiritual weight still exists.
Yahweh is the giant bull
And when he moves you get out of his way
and his words should be tattooed all over your skin.
Justice holds a police shield in a demonstration
Do the people seen thru the transparent shields look blurred?
Everybody makes mistakes
Mistakes are not to be confused with crimes
Or, you’ll get a cultural revolution.
Can justice become idolatry?
Does justice become a god?
When did justice get so much cholesterol in its veins?
When did the dense smoke of sacrifices
Blind the eyes of justice?
None of this may be true
However, some of it may ring a bell.
Can we sleep peacefully at night?
Yahweh’s words melt like butter in a pan
Add the flour and you get the man

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