The nice man from the bank
helped me get a mortgage
I will pay for the rest of my life.
I thanked him for his kindness
as he read the documents
on how I would lose my home,
if I defaulted on a payment,
how I would find myself, quickly,
on the pavement.
The lady from the government
then gave me a tax bill to pay,
but she wouldn't say
what my punishment would be
if I couldn't come up with the fee.
The car dealer's gentleman was even nicer
as he gave me the key to my car,
telling me how I would cry
if I couldn't meet my obligations
to pay the monthly installations
I wouldn't get, on foot, very far.
The dentist, before he pulled my tooth,
wanted to know how I would pay him for the maim
he was going to do to my gums
to remove this head-splitting pain.
When I lost my job,
they told me to start a business,
don't wait for others to help me with this
misfortune of mine,
try to become independent,
don't count on my government.
I did and ended up making money
for everyone who suddenly appeared,
taking all that I made:
for rent and for interest,
for penalties, fees, taxes,
for permits and licenses,
for lawyers, for accountants,
for bribes and for promotion,
for legal resolution…
…urging me to work harder,
tighten my belt,
stop complaining about
how it felt.
I thanked them all for helping me along,
with kind words, inspiring phrases,
never once thinking that I was in a war
with a heartless, shameless whore:
the parasites of capitalism,
the leeches of the monied class,
who own our government, make our laws,
who are just happy to eat me alive
never, for a second, shy;
ready to discard me
when sucked dry.
The simple things are, by far, the hardest to see:
we’d rather drown in complications;
when we could just simply, happily, be,
we choose to suffer in self-created abominations.
We invent ideologies, wars, financial meltdowns
when all we need to do is: produce,
distribute and consume what we really need
and stop making so many mouths to feed.
Cats, dogs, wolves are smarter than us
they live in their world
without trashing their habitat
you need humans for that accomplishment.
So we waste our enormous brains
on weapons of mass destruction,
and drag the cats, dogs and wolves with us
into our own mass-extinction.
Adjusting the zoom
of my imagination
I can observe anything I like:
any time, anywhere,
there’s no limit,
not even the sky.
I can watch galaxies collide,
black holes sucking in light,
colourful nebula spinning on its axis,
limitless space: sterile beauty,
peaceful, reverent,
like an abandoned Cathedral.
I notice a blue-white planet
orbiting a star
and wonder how small,
how fragile it looks
out this far.
As I get closer
I fall through the clouds
and fly over the landscape below.
I drink in the colours:
oceans, trees, grass,
golden grain of endless prairies;
pink-gray granite mountains
clawing at the sky;
millions of bluish-white sparks
as I cross from azure day
to indigo night.
One more notch
and I’m close enough to
see the cities, people,
roads, cars, canals,
factory chimneys belching at the sky;
battlefields with white crosses;
bronze statues of generals
who planted them;
magnificent mansions
side by side with the slums,
tin-roof houses,
built of discarded packing crates;
dark-skinned children
scavenging on the dumps;
well-bred youngsters
on the golf-course
learning new intricacies
of self-absorbed,
pitiless lives.
As I fly on,
the landscape changes again,
I’m skimming the canopy
of an old-growth jungle
with its bustling life:
monkeys leaping through space,
rainbow parrots dazzling my eyes,
a slithering anaconda hugging a branch,
armored alligators floating like logs
on a slow-moving river,
winding its way to where it must -
This picture, too, has death, fear, pain
but still, it is clean, balanced,
does not fill me with a sense of doom,
impending disaster.
One more notch, and
I am watching a colony of termites
like the inside of a Swiss watch
when it was an art
to make things work flawlessly,
with relentless precision
like the passage of time.
Perfect order,
machine-tooled by billions of years of evolution
separating transient from everlasting
until it hit upon the idea
of subjecting the parts to the whole…
…It feels so right that
I can’t help wondering
what the world would be like
if God had stopped
on the fifth day:
Snorting cyphered bits
encrypted knows dive
ride with me
sus me,
as Je sus IT
REAL_IT_Y
Why?
The pI in the sky?
Pi Seas
The final zodiac
riding the light
revealing the truth
the ultimate system
the ultimate clue?
If i sus the system
crack the code
reveal the Truth
move some load
see it as i c
logic is my T
REAL..IT..Y
the English LANguage
is more of a GAUGE
a LAN perhaps
i'll reveal its traps
part_Y? Y_trap?
U like to party?
go ahead
life is cheap
leep some time
have a sleep
the S is sin
wave that is
good buy
and die
what is Y
and what is U
U O Y?
you.
Embedded we are
evolved of IT
derived, convoluted
suckled from tit
If i could speak of
this 'system'
as it were
and answer a
quest.ion
white noise
a blur
thats where IT
came from
im on my knees
i am its spawn
i am in awe
that from chaos
i was formed
sorry for hating
sorry for scorn.
Adjusting the zoom
of my imagination
I can observe anything I like:
any time, anywhere,
there’s no limit,
not even the sky.
I can watch galaxies collide,
black holes sucking in light,
colourful nebula spinning on its axis,
limitless space: sterile beauty,
peaceful, reverent,
like an abandoned Cathedral.
I notice a blue-white planet
orbiting a star
and wonder how small,
how fragile it looks
out this far.
As I get closer
I fall through the clouds
and fly over the landscape below.
I drink in the colours:
oceans, trees, grass,
golden grain of endless prairies;
pink-gray granite mountains
clawing at the sky;
millions of bluish-white sparks
as I cross from azure day
to indigo night.
One more notch
and I’m close enough to
see the cities, people,
roads, cars, canals,
factory chimneys belching at the sky;
battlefields with white crosses;
bronze statues of generals
who planted them;
magnificent mansions
side by side with the slums,
tin-roof houses,
built of discarded packing crates;
dark-skinned children
scavenging on the dumps;
well-bred youngsters
on the golf-course
learning new intricacies
of self-absorbed,
pitiless lives.
As I fly on,
the landscape changes again,
I’m skimming the canopy
of an old-growth jungle
with its bustling life:
monkeys leaping through space,
rainbow parrots dazzling my eyes,
a slithering anaconda hugging a branch,
armored alligators floating like logs
on a slow-moving river,
winding its way to where it must -
This picture, too, has death, fear, pain
but still, it is clean, balanced,
does not fill me with a sense of doom,
impending disaster.
One more notch, and
I am watching a colony of termites
like the inside of a Swiss watch
when it was an art
to make things work flawlessly,
with relentless precision
like the passage of time.
Perfect order,
machine-tooled by billions of years of evolution
separating transient from everlasting
until it hit upon the idea
of subjecting the parts to the whole…
…It feels so right that
I can’t help wondering
what the world would be like
if God had stopped
on the fifth day:
To think was ok but not too much
Stay focused on you and your kin
That is what the system wants
For if you cross this line in the sand
And think of the other as you
Then power will shift in collective strength
This would trouble those who currently hold the reigns
Of power, it is true, and real. The system wants not
That you are in it together as brothers as sisters against those who care not
"Before the Fibonacci Sequence was known in Europe, it was used in ancient India for the metrical sciences, also known as prosody (the study of poetic meter)."
New York, see you everywhere the apple, I arrived from Universe so I bite you. I play this game have no name and guitar play for you and I am writing too. My distance, circumstances don't give me and otherwise I'm flying to you very very nice. I saw this scene from the sky and music very quiet I heard your shape and life, I'm a bird. I sing in the windows of yours, skyscrapers at left - right, youre floors are sea coasts or beach, at the botton on the street, in the morning and at night, at home ... I am dancing with you ooo, my New York.
