Give me my freedom
I cannot give what you deny you have
Give me my freedom
I can only offer mine, trap you in my life
Strive for freedom, now
To live without bounds, as if this were,
Somehow, our natural state
‘I am not black or white, and my history,
All the law and art that bound me,
I have forgotten, with great effort.’
The verse is blank, the poetry prose
Written apropos of the language
Of Sunday supplements and headlines
Written quickly, for our readers
Have deadlines. Painting is passé
Simply re-arranged some artefact
Of the everyday so it appears
Less commonplace. This is an expensive business.
Watching a film can be a chore
If something does not explode between
Each dialogue episode of plot moving
Couplets, less scripted than cut-outs.
No need to wait for the actor,
Or the producer, usually late
If they are a commuter.
We can pull out a box of chips and shoot her.
“Yes please, yes please, now I am truly free
To eat my hamburger instantly, while pictures entertain me
And newspapers complain superficially,
And the chiefs explain me, an ASBO in the making.
My attention is waning. I need coffee
To stay awake, then distract me
For goodness sake, until the big game.
I want to see twenty-two inflated wages,
Forty-four sponsored shoes run
Their hording shirts up and down the line,
A hundred times. But what is wrong?
Something weird is going on as they dash
Randomly about, the ball ignored
However much we shout. Some on the pitch,
Some in the stands, some resting and some
With racquets in their hands.
The referee is reading Socrates.
The crowd is tense, pensive, and I fear
Trouble brews, as an outlet for the confused
Minds thrown into the unknown,
Into the chaos. This cannot go on.
The vertigo of lost boundaries
Lawlessness. You cannot play games
Unless rules are made, to give form to the pieces
And someone regulates.
So too the poets, modernists, sculptor and novelist
So too the economist, the bin-men (or street hygienist)
The anarchist and socialist… ENOUGH
Thankyou Wolfe and Joyce, (to name two
Of a thousand voices), now we can see,
What was and not necessary. We have choice.
The confines and chains broken
Rules laid bare, now they must not
Be erased but replaced, not just breakers
But makers please.
We are trying to escape
Oxygen because it forces us to breath.
Rest easy that we cannot be free, nor choose
Upon which world to live, only our way
Of living, finite. Not trapped by this world
But made possible through it.