I Often Think to Myself
I think to my self.....
I often think, where do I fit?
Is it fair to be an artist,
In a world that’s burning, drink (exquisite).
I ought to be a Labor man,
Cleaning and making, back breaking,
Not sitting, eating, day-dreaming.
That’s the thing, this hudbu; art-making,
It requires tumultuous stillness,
A wracking of brain, a lacking of sane,
And enough of a vocabulary to be hated.
I often think to myself....
I often think what am I allowed?
Can I dance to an African drum,
A German march, to life? (L’chiam)
How hard is my life allowed to be?
I’ve all the right check marks,
And all the right shades.
I’m not complaining, don’t get me wrong,
I’ve the headstart of all headstarts,
But can’t I cry too?
Or is that a sign of a weak heart?
What am I allowed?
Allowed....
A loud cheering filling the hall,
I’ve done it, trials and all,
My name, it is mine, it’s there too,
Read and written next to history, dekuju!
Im a king, a scholar, a lover,
a sycophant, but remembered all the same!
The room cries for the best of humanity,
Science, art, and philosophies!
Symmetry adorns the walls, the words,
The meanings and passions equally heard.
(You know, they say that symmetry in old churches symbolizes the purity of God, a testimony to His grandeur. You know what else is symmetrical? Auschwitz)
Symmetry:
a white skyscraper with golden filigree,
A beginning-middle-end story,
An even cross charred unevenly.
I often think to myself....
I often think....and maybe I shouldn’t.
Because When I think,
I see.
I see bleached oceans, and concrete stains of childs’ blood.
I see nazis; liberal and conservative
Surrounded by liquid metal, burning spiders and crosses and puking pewtresance,
I see hyperbole, and deliberate mistrust,
I see a thousand ways to anger but only just a few ways to understanding.
When I think, I’m just another man,
Part of a systemic majority,
The beginning and end of freedoms,
the sole writer of The Story,
I’m trying to be better than all of that,
I’m trying to be different.
IM TRYING, BUT I DONT KNOW HOW.
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i don’t know.
And,
That’s okay.
So anyways,
Thanks for listening to my self;
that’s what I’m thinking.
Now, what about you?
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- Michael Andrew Burt
Copyright © 2019 by Michael Andrew Burt. All Rights Reserved.
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