Each tatoo is the furrow
of a lost life harvest .
Born to descend into the tomb
of perpetuity .
Or simply a loony bin visit...
Your older showed you the way .
Your sister smelled like wet pavement.
Father who sometimes came home
to give misery a thrashing ...
Oh liberty what chains are there
to force you to love !
Your compassionate homeland
offers you a cruise to yellow fever
and lagoon's exotic wildlife !
Your head will not bow the audience !
Say thank you lucky winner
to the health and tourism minister !
Killer you have the right to be friend
with rapists and counterfeiters .
It doesn't disturb the established disorder !
Promiscuity is the beginning of redemption.
Union is sealed with burning green
and glowing blue ...
The wife will not come to the parlor .
Rust will spread .
Each wrinkle is the story of a tree
that will end up forgotten ,
engraved name on a wooden cross ...
At the deathbed ,finally, jail
will absolve you .
One day ,you ran away .
But neither heaven or hell wanted you .
God doesn't like rebels and satan
despised the defeated .
Perhaps are you that essence of humus
on the body of a Parisian female ?
but all this, you might say ,
is just a story beyond the grave .
I am afraid ghosts may suffer from insomnia...
The cloud that doesn't obediently follow
the herd will be marked with the sign of rain.
It's one of those lullabies you used to sing
me back when love still existed...
where are you mom ?
wandering minds who come to visit me
with this strange sweetness ...
There is even beauty among lepers .
You learned that being free
means knowing how to cry ...
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Online) - Published: November 13th, 2025 11:49
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
Online)
Comments3
The human within us can survive only through the ability to feel pain and to see the truth within it.
A deeply moving poem, Lorenz.
Recognizing beauty in the heart of trash is already beginning to do justice!
Rebellion rules everywhere but where it should. Anger is a precursor to tears of shame, Lepers do have beautiful people if you look on the inside. A good read
When misery is passed on ,violence shapes subjectivity .
So history indicates
Very truthful poem, I find the morality of most to be so corrupted
I fear that morality is suffering from gold fever...
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