Gare Du Nord
Poem for Christmas
( Written on the train between Brussels and Waterloo 16th December 2015)
Masked gunmen of the state patrol our transits where
Poem for Christmas
( Written on the train between Brussels and Waterloo 16th December 2015)
Masked gunmen of the state patrol our transits where
Homeless migrants huddle, shelter and brood like birds.
Bright neon lights windows, frames on prison-like walls,
Which advertise desire, drugs of comfort and lies.
Workers worry their way along, blinkered donkeys
To the promised carrot that will never arrive.
The smell of anger and fear lingers about the
Hallways in fetid air. What look unlocks the ‘self’
That binds the box of dreams and ignorance, what word
Awakens from the spell, un-makes this mind and world?
Workers worry their way along, blinkered donkeys
To the promised carrot that will never arrive.
The smell of anger and fear lingers about the
Hallways in fetid air. What look unlocks the ‘self’
That binds the box of dreams and ignorance, what word
Awakens from the spell, un-makes this mind and world?
No comments:
Post a Comment