Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Ready to Grow

Drugs contain the escape 
from an unfair world
The rich push the knife in
anything to keep us cold
Altruism is dead
greed and selfishness stole the show
Destroy nationalism 
and remember the tales once told
We are one people
nobody first, no one’s god really knows
Fuck going with the flow
bombs only purpose is to blow
The truth is present 
if you really want to know
To win, we need comrades to row
who ready to grow

Knotted Rope of Nostalgia

Capitalist confusion
All we are doing is just using
Each other, in grand illusion
Try to stay present and glued
The present seems gloomy, but
My heart lives in the future
Where poor people
Don’t think that they are losers
And we construct
Stronger love
Better relationships
Where communication is
Built on the ground
Not in the above
Where we seek the communal
And realize
The farce of hedonism 
Where we smile because 
Of tomorrow 
And let loose the knotted rope
Of nostalgia for what was

Melted Mockery

Waxwings melting, we lament for help
Drawn to the sun’s brilliance
Nonetheless, inferred the optimistic
My hands bound everywhere 
Am I valiant or foolish to stare at the sky?
With the melancholy of the sailor’s wife
Rustling mockery in my pocket


Oh, I have tried to laugh the pain away, 
Let new flames brush my love-springs like a feather. 
But the old fever seizes me to-day, 
As sickness grips a soul in wretched weather. 
I have given up myself to every urge, 
With not a care of precious powers spent, 
Have bared my body to the strangest scourge, 
To soothe and deaden my heart's unhealing rent. 
But you have torn a nerve out of my frame, 
A gut that no physician can replace, 
And reft my life of happiness and aim. 
Oh what new purpose shall I now embrace? 
What substance hold, what lovely form pursue, 
When my thought burns through everything to you? 

Claude Mckay