invoked the new year from a mountain of months
climbed some high fences and jumped over summer hits
only to find blocked paths and bits of sun on a rainy day.
engaged in this dry run without the real play,
there’s no joy in the backup division of space.
no trace will be left on the nice shinny floor
no more rum, no dust left to ignore, no exit door
just this rotten perception of well in a gray colored shell
which dwell in cotton covered decisions
taken at a high speed rate by inflatable wizards,
no sun will penetrate the darken glow of
back alleys
where we hide infants from the great sky
and comfort their desperate cry for wisdom
with commercials
and pop sounds popping their ears until tone
deafness,
hits one string and lyrics sold word by word
on auction!
this beautiful routine full of meaningful
events
every year twisted stories whispered in web contents
without a further reading we’ll all end up
dead
metamorphosed into a mass of mules
obliged to climb another timemountain
and then another, and then the same
until we reach that freedom fountain
and drown our nameless demon to proclaim
humanity as the new world order!
I find myself lost in dreamy thoughts
Wondering through flat land
Skinned to the bone
My every step disappears in sand
I want to expand but I’m blown out
rolling over potato fields with angry
farmers
chasing Indonesian girls wrapped in the
national flag.
I don’t know if tomorrow’s dream of a
multinational unity
Is for sale in Asia or if I can understand
the future plan?
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