obscurity is our reward

 

this poem again not 'designed' to be a love poem.
GoddOddlove, shanti, shanti, shanti!
daily mediatation on peaces of peace
No, it isnt
and even not because 'thankless jobs',
for volunteer labours is priceless thing
it is another blindness
alike
to share lyric to bunch of clevermonkeyman
which seemingly only 'artesians', only 'artists' know how to 'attend',
but not a blueser, twisted inbetween of her gray day and bi-polar conscience of wrecked capitalist mind,
which e'ery one of us polluted immensely..
isnt it a bad levity not to differ whom to one share one's verses?
this is how one lost not just labour,
but home and lover and so gentle friends..
there is weirder thing:
away of dignity!!
of the last remnant of any human honor ..
seeking where underground still dwell, and dont find it nowhere.
but poetry pages! its retreat for fucked up poetrists and for always thirsty resurrectionists..
fightin' for peaces of peace is what poets try to do here
who need for it any gratitude?
just being left alone with underground friends
build our barricades of destruction
RESIST
&
SURVIVE
this alone would be already merit.
not get in captivity of new illusion e'ery night and e'ery day

for obscurity seems being  indeed our single and most honest reward.