I.
If in your lifetime,
You don’t want to watch the world
Deteriorate,
You have the right to abstain.
If you are with anything left to lose,
You can’t believe
Government isn’t to blame.
II.
If an artist,
sees for the sake of art,
If an artist and partner,
See for the art of growing,
If an artist and seeker
Of truth and shelter grow weary,
If an artist and liar
Sit long by the fire outside the growing
Thunder, lightning hissing
Booing down from the balcony
Onto the stage,
Rising from the artist’s grave,
If you’re still watching,
Listen.
III.
Many delicate things have you
Smashed without noticing.
My clumsy hands give
Everything to hold some one thing
Dearly.
If trembling,
Shaking, Dropping,
Casting brutish shadows they offended,
Smashed aloof and nought is mended,
.........What the **** you liar
Call me sometime, so long, after all.
If you’ve not clumsy hands, my friends,
Please, stay on hold for ohms, amens.
Many more delicate things will smash,
No one noticing.
IV.
What’s the most beautiful thing in this world?
All such things, in this beautiful world,
Might remain very subjective.
But if I code an experience into a thing,
Tchaikovsky’s siren with her strings,
In the sea beside the shore,
1812 cannons’ overture,
Bellini’s casta diva’s love,
Cecelia’s colors lofted
From Sevilla to St. Petersburg...
But my love, the truth in this
Most beautiful blasting world,
This sure subjective silent bliss,
This moment, present,
Setting sun, holding your beautiful hand:
Our kiss.
Oct 24, 2019
Oct 24, 2019 at 8:02 AM UTC
I.
If in your lifetime,
You don’t want to watch the world
Deteriorate,
You have the right to abstain.
If you are with anything left to lose,
You can’t believe
Government isn’t to blame.
II.
If an artist,
sees for the sake of art,
If an artist and partner,
See for the art of growing,
If an artist and seeker
Of truth and shelter grow weary,
If an artist and liar
Sit long by the fire outside the growing
Thunder, lightning hissing
Booing down from the balcony
Onto the stage,
Rising from the artist’s grave,
If you’re still watching,
Listen.
III.
Many delicate things have you
Smashed without noticing.
My clumsy hands give
Everything to hold some one thing
Dearly.
If trembling,
Shaking, Dropping,
Casting brutish shadows they offended,
Smashed aloof and nought is mended,
.........What the **** you liar
Call me sometime, so long, after all.
If you’ve not clumsy hands, my friends,
Please, stay on hold for ohms, amens.
Many more delicate things will smash,
No one noticing.
IV.
What’s the most beautiful thing in this world?
All such things, in this beautiful world,
Might remain very subjective.
But if I code an experience into a thing,
Tchaikovsky’s siren with her strings,
In the sea beside the shore,
1812 cannons’ overture,
Bellini’s casta diva’s love,
Cecelia’s colors lofted
From Sevilla to St. Petersburg...
But my love, the truth in this
Most beautiful blasting world,
This sure subjective silent bliss,
This moment, present,
Setting sun, holding your beautiful hand:
Our kiss.
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