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  • NOBLE POETRY  

  • SUBTLE DIGGING

     

    Diving out of the total stomach-churning, pre- and post-testing hell-bent on vomiting, when you think you've got it all under control, but the good stuff is yet to come. No one suspected, knew details, just Vates-secrets from the insecure Sors, the human tide of wretched evil: we tried to somehow scrape the infected thorns, the stigma-wounds from each other's shipwrecked souls, which we had endured for more than four years in the dying half.

    It never occurred to us that we might be right! Anything but the degraded slavery of the oppressed, humiliated slaves at the bottom of the pyramid! Let not those who despised the enduring power of literature, poetry, and the fidelity of words, come through us. - We lived thus locked in the sumo-whale body of a sunken world, to a beat, and often shivered as if we were shut up in the neighbourhood of the North Pole.

    There was no question of a delicate balance, of a teacher-student relationship based on compromise. Despots, tyrants, petty kings, dictators, just as much as out there in the world of the mythical World, were squeezed between the walls of harmony and unity. And while there were treacherous, petty little snitches, who would spit on anyone, anywhere, anytime - there was still a persistent, bloodcurdling injustice. And when the wind of suicide was hanging over our heads with increasing ominousness, and secretly they even suspected that "some" was some kind of fatality, by some miracle of mercy, they pushed a ketchup-stained, smudged piece of paper into our hands, and it was a good thing I stayed away from the solemn parade with a demonstrative cuma cum laude!

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