World War COVID Guerre mondiale: From WeaponWorld to PeaceWorld; Learner, begin... De la terre en armes au monde paisible ; Apprenti, débute

In a rush to get high

mark Season 15 Episode 22

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Le pire imbécile se croit le plus sage- apprentimarcv
Ne traitez personne d'imbécile – Jésus

The greatest fool thinks himself wisest - learnermarkv
Call no man a fool. Jesus



WORLD WAR COVID
Poems, mine and theirs

In a Rush To Get High

I ran into Death the other day, 

A long gone acquaintance

Whose name I had forgotten

– I forget names: cursed incapacity –

A boorish distant relative

I never took to as a child and had avoided since

 

Glimpsed coolly through hectic traffic;

A real bore, in other words, not amusing;

Beckoning me like a long lost friend 

From across the teeming artery.

 

I turned my back on him and took French leave.

He had never deserved a better reply,

No matter how inseparable we become in good time.

 

Life’s pitiless fitness scheme will shut down this body of mine,  

Will wrinkle it sexless ugly, shred it to stinking rags,

Shed my soul at this body’s last gasp.

From vital reality with uncertain dreams,

To ghostly realities and a solid dream.

 

So I let the  sea snake be my spirit guide

Or his darker brother, secretary bird 

Familiar totems both loyal and clever,

Our intimacies shared like grains of sand,

Steadier than a good war dog.

 

Together across WeaponWorld and beyond that

To PeaceWorld and its glades of Eden,

With all humanity for company.

The oldest, greatest, wisest tribe 

Forged like chrome alloy and stainless steel, 

As bright as the universe can make it.

  
In the he cosmic cloud of DNA

Fleeting softly through space-time,

As ephemeral as smoke,

Carbon-based souls vault the cosmic heat death

Fleas run down by the prairie fire.

Me, I’m in a rush to get high. 

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