meine umwelt

avec moi, sans moi,

par moi

Ahh… and the tales I shall unfold

May blast comprehension if the truth be told

An ode to the masters, martyrs and whims

A satyr on life and sullied daydreams

(1996)

London © 2016 Designing Futures

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Tears

Tears

Falling softly

Down a stony face,

Like a bird

Fluttering to get out

Of its golden cage.

Talk of mockery:

The key around its neck,

Glistening in the moonlight.

Feathers falling, bird’s disgrace.

Trapped,

Those precious stones

Of mine.

Break the cage,

Lay down your burdens,

Drink:

Crystalline,

Sparkling.

You hold the key,

But lack the power.

Let go!

Oh little bird of mine,

Soar high

My golden companion,

Let your beauty

Shine.

Traverse the skies,

Feed on the opulence,

Try nature’s gifts:

Never lost,

You’ll never need

To find.

Let go!

Oh, little bird of mine,

To plummet

From your self-imposed trap,

To pierce

Your soft

Inexperienced skin

Upon the thorns

Of your own pride,

Your dreams,

Your foolishness.

So what?

My dull little bird,

You try to get out,

But to what,

May I ask,

Heaven

Or hell?

Search for an answer

In your barren cell

Before you

Break the door

Holding your own lock.

(24th Jan ‘92)

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