Saturday, July 26, 2008

in this town of glorious cathedrals
houses of god
the beggars seem to be avoiding
his gaze by hiding below over-passes
as if they are ashamed
not wanting to "crap his style"

and on the other corner
was a puppet master displaying his craft
to a mesmerized audience

the irony...

i kept on walking

Flashback: January 10, 1998

when ancient times gave birth to
philo-sophers
there were only stars to witness

now that we all are
misanthropic spectators
we all behold
everyday
the despair of
the deteriorated and insentient
human condition
in glorified happy masks
without even stirring a nerve

and nothing perforates through
our skins anymore

is it because
nothing left under to be penetrated
or because
we bargained our souls for
everything that perishes before ourselves
as a vengeance, a retribution
of being mortal?

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

i sat by my bed in a foreign land
was a republic of one but kingdom of none

listening a song about a wicked medicine man

who spoke about men rummage through
the desolate crowd
broken and mad
and saw them breathing dust
and loneliness and vast vistas of
desperation in sparse stories and
praying in pain

waiting for the hard rain to fall down

rain never came down

and we all were condemned to live
the collective failure of a whole generation

rummaging through desolate crowds
speaking to ourselves with voices ever so faint

shackled within our republic of one
but kingdom of none