How Must I Go on with My Day?

October 5, 2016 § Leave a comment

When happiness meets me in every window
On the walls of this hallway
How can I participate in a meaningless
Life when blind bliss looks me in the eye,
For now —

Paintings are the atmosphere,
And flowers grow on my shirt;
The paper is silk,
And this instrument’s my brush
So holy and divine,
Arabia’s weapon: rhymed verse,
Beautiful women, and wine
––the building blocks of religion
The father of possibility,
And all that is undone

Happiness that is galaxies and fantasies,
This happiness, may it remain,
Closer than my heart to my blood,
And my thoughts to consciousness
Than knowledge in quotes,
And information in books

May my prayers be answered,
May happiness fancy me still

In this forest I would drink from the lake,
Carry air from a circus on my backpack
And go hiking where my body cannot climb
— be a master of crimes,
Done cunningly, wittingly, without a trace

I am a saint who sins to retain my sanity
Because after-all, you cannot be happy
Without sacrificing a few flowers
Which would’ve grew on your grave.

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