Thursday, 3 December 2015

Darkness the Old Friend







































“l'Acteur” (The Actor) by Pablo Picasso (1904-05)


No one likes waiting for people not worth waiting for
But we still have to wait for people more important than us
It is a kind of penalty to listen to voices barely cracking any enthusiasm
In the awkward meeting that will proceed, we already wonder how we will
Distract ourselves, while remain politically correct, and ideal
To pretentious folk, forgiving their sensitivity to issues that don’t concern them whatsoever
Political correction makes no sense while the world still suffers
In the shadows of the first world
The third world is dying
As we dive face first into the funding of warfare 

Oblivion is the monster that swallowed us all
Inside the stomach we still find entertainment in the form of uploading images
Of people we hardly know or care about
Apparent unease
Behind those skyscrapers we build to impress
Who
Enforces the meditation of detention facing the wall
How do we reflect on ourselves when a shadow is all we see
Sometimes we’d rather be our shadows instead
It is a strange form of jealousy
But envy is the need that drives our competition
Shadows don’t always walk behind us
For when they cease the sun in their favour, we’ll be the ones walking behind them

We’re so much taller as shadows
It would enchant to be walking around with height, as such, in the real world
We’d fall down easier too, from shadows taller
The towers of our imagination
There’ll always be someone taller than the tallest person we know
To ensure the world
Is balanced
With reinforcements
That we’re no better than anyone else
When we still buy into the goods they make 
There's no point protesting the cruelty with which they make them