IN OUR TIME
IN OUR TIME, where chess games are played with atomic bombs by soft dictators, while the people are either brainwashed, laughing or miserable, and where even in childhood the very young child is taught: "My dear son! What can the silent, mute poet say? What extraordinary things could he write down on a torn out notebook or a piece of paper that would faithfully reflect the decade in which he was forced to live and endure?
In an age when NASA is sending new suitcases into space to colonise the latest satellites, and some arrogant, multi-billionaire blokes have already bought at least two unknown planetary contingents near Jupiter or Mars, and because new luxury resorts are to be built on lunar craters in the hope of greater profits, the astronaut, while eating chocolate biscuits, is probably thinking of his sweetheart, who is cheating on him again on Earth, or of his family, whom he has not seen for the last time for ten thousand light years.
In the Age, where snot-brained gorillas wear Ray-Ban sunglasses, Rolex watches, Giorgo Armani suits, influential stooge-parties, manipulable business sharks, and luxury Porsche 911 Turbos driven by a few brain-boxed, potty-mouthed ladies of their teenage years, saying: this is the standard of living that belongs only to the Chosen! Where are the friendly conversations, the cultural workshops, the evenings with friends, when the TV is not blaring: "The best among the best, grotesque oxymorons? And where the unskilled worker or labourer could just as well be literate as the celeb-tahos who have attended the most expensive universities!
Where, I wonder, are the true loves of immortal Omnipotence in this present Age: when it was possible to communicate with beating heartbeats, telepathy of feelings, to send secret Apokfif messages, and it was not necessary to compliment with 48-carat diamond necklaces, a thousand-threaded bouquet of red roses, because a real Lady felt that for her the Cyclops Day should be up, for her the instincts, the tiny molecules of cells were aflame! - And while outside the great spectacle of lies is going on, in the depths of troubled souls, pessimism, which promises to last, still threatens with melancholy moods!