Poetry

“I wish men would get back their balance among the elements
and be a bit more fiery, as incapable of telling lies
as fire is.
I wish they’d be true to their own variation as water is,
Which goes through all the stages of steam and stream and ice
Without loosing its head.

I am sick of loveable people,
Somehow they are a lie.”




“My wife for six months now in sinister
Tones has muttered incessantly about divorce,
And, since of the woman I am fond, this dark chatter
Is painful as well as a bit monotonous.
Still, marvel one must, when she fishes out of that trunk,
Like rags, my shadier deeds for all to see…”























































































































































































































































































































“ I think they will remember this as the age of lamentations,
The age of broken minds and broken souls,
The age of hurt creatures sobbing out their sorrow to the rhythm of the blues –
The music of lost Africa’s desolation become the music of town.”






































































































































































I have had worse partings, but none that so
Gnaws at my mind still. Perhaps it is roughly Saying what God alone could perfectly show -
How selfhood begins...