INFANTRY COLUMNS
We're foot--slog--slog--slog--sloggin' over Africa --
Foot--foot--foot--foot--sloggin' over Africa --
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!
Seven--six--eleven--five--nine-an'-tw enty mile to-day --
Four--eleven--seventeen--thirty-two the day before --
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)
......
I was hoping to be happy by seventeen.
School was a sharp check mark in the roll book,
An obnoxious tuba playing at noon because our team
Was going to win at night. The teachers were
Too close to dying to understand. The hallways
Stank of poor grades and unwashed hair. Thus,
A friend and I sat watching the water on Saturday,
Neither of us talking much, just warming ourselves
By hurling large rocks at the dusty ground
And feeling awful because San Francisco was a postcard
......
They paddle with staccato feet
In powder-pools of sunlight,
Small blue busybodies
Strutting like fat gentlemen
With hands clasped
Under their swallowtail coats;
And, as they stump about,
Their heads like tiny hammers
Tap at imaginary nails
In non-existent walls.
......
Another armored animal–scale
lapping scale with spruce-cone regularity until they
form the uninterrupted central
tail row! This near artichoke with head and legs and
grit-equipped gizzard,
the night miniature artist engineer is,
yes, Leonardo da Vinci’s replica–
impressive animal and toiler of whom we seldom hear.
Armor seems extra. But for him,
the closing ear-ridge–
......
The breaking waves dashed high
On a stern and rock-bound coast,
And the woods, against a stormy sky,
Their giant branches tost;
And the heavy night hung dark
The hills and water o'er,
When a band of exiles moored their bark
On the wild New England shore.
......
At nights my eyes burn
Midnight meetings with a sheep
Praying with free tongue
The walls are my shrink.
Playing with riddles
Bargaining with nothing
On behalf of my flesh
Addicted to suffering.
......
I taught you to think, to attain your clever.
I gave you the greater, the power, the pleasures.
I am the prince of this world and a god of freedom.
I bestow unto you, your riches and values, your own arboretums.
Pointing fingers and slack-less triggers.
How is the blame mine when you are the sinners?
Struck by the heel that I breathed liberty into.
Only fools long deliverance for a decision irrevocably due.
......
In the dark night sky, I sail on the ocean of stars, looking for a ray of light, in a nebula of hope far away.
Cosmic dust dances slowly, whispering promises of the future, amidst the eerie darkness, I found a glimmer of light.
Oh, nebula, the vortex of dreams that never goes out, you draw a path in the dark, towards a day full of courage. Every colour you emit, is a prayer that floats into the sky, touching the throne of the Creator, carve your destiny with love and hope.
So let me fly, penetrate the endless sky, with the hope of being a guide, into a new universe.
Slipi. 05 December 2024. 9:19 PM
Searing blades full of thunder,
Helping tear the world asunder,
Bleeding truth of guile and fear,
Raucous voices emit a cheer.
Bring again the word of dark,
Preying demons soon embark,
Stalk the innocent, selfless lives,
As light must flee so darkness thrives.
......
There is a beast,
that lives within.
In every man,
promotes a sin.
You hear his whisper,
from deep within.
Inside your brain.
under your skin.
He looks around,
......