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  • NOBLE POETRY  

  • OVERPLUS?

     

    Why do you feel like a surplus here and a banished stranger? You can't even afford to pay your rent with your cheap light bulbs; you crawl here and there on the backbone of life, accusing yourself, like a false judge who is afraid of the truth, "How did we get here?" - But there are no more answers, I fear! Thou hast given up all thy chance of existence, without a fountain of material wealth, and where thou canst no longer tread

    guiltless, no guarantee, among unmarked tombstones, the surviving living search for memories! - Thou know'st thyself well, Thou would'st give all thy minutes to be with him once more, And only for the last time, but thou canst not, Thy immortal salvation is scarred by the betrayal of kisses, - And see at last that in this painted and unhousy world Thou art left alone: Faithfulness to a worthless interest is degraded, - But the future can wreck and cripple, If life's slaps be like whips to thee, And break thy wavering neck! Take care and beware! Thou doest most so! 

    For thy way is long since decreed, but without thee, And stoned like the helpless defenseless! Even thou seest thyself; thou turn'st round in one great circle. And you endure the crossfire of the bewildered eyes around you, and you stand, and your selfless, moral values, degraded to an untameable animal, in the ant-riot of the masses! - I will suddenly disappear! 

    I'll be surrounded by the filth and filthy filth of my incognito: I'll be a shadow! Colourless and mortal in time I'll fade away! 
     

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