Monday, 1 February 2016

Stools for Bystanders

“Sylvette” by Pablo Picasso (1954)

On a silent Saturday morning a flood devours a river
Like cobras devour their prey some leaves dishevel inside the appetites of
The unpredictable diner
Mother Nature is seen, with a smile, behind a tree
Where hollow and vast 
The scope of nepotism foresees some species of wildlife preserved 
On her watch there is no time for wasting
One tragedy is to safeguard nature as no more or less the conductor of cruelty it’s always been
Social experiments to sweep through
The river that weeps
Now merely the oil of dirt and dead leaves to stir the consequences of corruption

A weather warning is insufficient to foresee the colloquial mess
Of a full-blown tragedy
Shakespeare smirks on the lap of his woman
From coarse hair 
A snake crawls down from the tree to fetch from the flood, a fruit
Ripe to its core
The flood keeps on giving on Nature’s watch
There are plenty of hands to feed the poor
The treacherous
Needy or greedy
All gather around the tree and worship the dark opening of a dictatorship unquestionable

The flood catches a leaf and devours it
Stem and all, there is glory for the victims of Nature
Nature is its own predator, its own prey
So when the humans pray, they do at the mercy of this Nature
That devours and weeps
Underneath the surface of a flood as such
There is a conflict 
Caught between the sorrow of man and a Woman, there are no sides to take, nor seize 
But this day 
On a Saturday morning
No one is prepared for a tragedy