Tuesday, August 3, 2010

The fish in the sky

When a Queen abdicates.
Or regretfully falls from her throne.
Beautiful and fascinating princesses dance onto the scene.
To whirl their femininity around the male island now available to visit again.
Proud and prestigious princesses transforming into gliders finding thermal: the upward current of warm air.
Taking the man in their arms for company on their fantastic journey
Circling up higher and higher and therefore provoking a hallucinating experience of reaching fabulous landscapes where Paradise may be found.

And there is always the question.
That on that journey in the immense sky an answer is hoped for to be found.
The question: where is home?
That means: where do I belong?
As Country Joe and the Fish were singing:

Who am I ?
To stand and wonder, to wait
While the wheels of fate
Slowly grind my life away.
Who am I ?

There were some things that I loved one time,
But the dreams are gone that I thought were mine,
And the hidden tears that once could fall
Now burn inside at the thought of all
The years of waste, the years of cryin'
The passions of a heart so blind;
To think that, but even still
As I stand exposed, the feelings are felt
And I cry into the echo of my loneliness.

What a nothing I've made of life
The empty words, the coward's plight
To be pushed and passed from hand to hand
Never daring to speak, never daring to stand
And the emptiness of my family's eyes
Reminds me over and over of lies
And promises and deeds undone
And now again I want to run
But now there is nowhere to run to.

And now my friend we meet again and
We shall see which one will bend
Under the strain of death's golden eyes
Which one of us shall win the prize
To live and which one will die
'Tis I, my friend, yes 'tis I
Shall kill to live again and again
To clutch the throat of sweet revenge
For life is here only for the taking.


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Michel, some would argue we belong nowhere and everywhere. I'm still trying to understand the idea that before the big bang there was, literally, nothing.
Mick Davidson