A small life

I stole two bananas this morning

In broad daylight

From under noses

After walking in, under the half moon

Over a pile of old coleslaw on the curb

To which someone had helpfully added

A small plastic knife and fork set

After screaming into the night

Over things that really don’t matter

The gods covering their ears

The cats listening from rooftops unimpressed

It’s good to keep yourself on your toes

Touch life

Test the world from time to time

Make sure it’s all still there

Still tangible

The rules of the everyday

Do not apply as much as you’d think

Even if you don’t do anything of note

Even if you are not regarded by others

And just go about your small life

Content and happy and just getting

By

That’s ok

That's alright

Just don’t forget to

Keep tasting the fruit once in a while.

punkrockghettohiphophour show pt2

Zizek

punkrockghettohiphophour show

11th hour

A sober epiphany

It is the night before

It is a walk into battle without a rifle

I find myself suddenly needing to play catch up

The masks drop for long enough for me to

Remember and

        long enough is not long at all

And I am fragile and I am small

I carry a deck of 52 aces

Black hearts every one

They have got me this far and now refuse to

Serve me any further

A Bösendorfer sends me down the rabbit hole

The sinking feeling nourishing and deadly as

I hold my breath and decide whether to ever

Let go

And it is almost time

Almost tomorrow

Then I see it again

The film still

The portrait

Bleached out

Morning country

Winter air

Mountains

The opposing blade to here and

Now

And what would once have been hell to me

That being the fault of wise elders

The conditioning by family

Who knew better

Or were just scared to death themselves

And wanting to protect a child

The white keys begin their fade

And I know the end is due

It comes without fail

Without surprise

And silence remains

And the image remains

Secret desire

An infamous chill

Then the small face

Two eyes ready to be filled with

Whatever I choose…

Cold water from the streams

Runs down my back

Smooth rocks underfoot unsteady me

For the first time I question

What I have done

Everything again a divers weight on my chest

Taking me down and

I am encased in cotton wool and silken thread

Forced toward an ever long metamorphosis

I am not running out of time

I am immortal and unwilling

I have all the time the gods hand out

These days I just have no idea what to

Do with it

And I am fragile and I am small

And I carry a deck of 52 aces

All black hearts

53 if you count the one that keeps me

Running

So I break out the claws

And turn my back on myself

Sit, sip, wait to get pulled into the whirlpool

It is almost time

Almost tomorrow

My journey to the centre of the earth.

KRKD