Be Aware
 
Death's fragment is our inheritance,
bashed through time
            from bard to preacher,
seldom does our raga of hate weaken
in this snivelling watered down version
                                          of living,
we take on board as something precious,
defend with armies; fighting since
the first erected cross
stained the last bleeding hill.

I wonder and I wonder
as the stars must wonder, why they
gravel the universe in such prolific
design,
or the crab wonders, as his wounded meat
smarts
too polluted to eat;
he can only scuttle and remain infertile
in less cluttered company.

It's not hard to slip into despair,
forget the reason why we are here
and substitute our own ideas;
                           intricate laws
too intricate to maintain, they are changed
                                          and changed,
but who do they really protect,
and what has been protected?

The one-winged bird cannot perfect its flight,
nor the half-tailed fish its style,
as we perfect ours while wrecking the ball,
slack jawed when the big mushroom spores;

Be aware of that thief in the night.
 
3 Mar 2000