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Some great imagery, and some heartfelt thoughts, from John G. Hall:
The Orange Snake of Burma
I swim to soaking wet the sun sets me on fire shoes walk to my step the machinery of a cornfield leaps into my breakfast bowl and the deep ocean drinks down the skies deep breath the bounce holds onto the ball while rivers pierce mountain sides holy waters cup my profane hands
and the monks of Burma are one big orange skinned snake hissing peace through the olive green streets and though batons make broken bones and bullets follow one finger's orders the orange snake of Buddha covers the young soldiers in pink love bites
and though they purge the road of prayers the red venom of revolt slips its pulse into them until one day soon their hard hats quake open, burst with rivers of orange silk and pink kisses, holy tongues shaking down skull apples from the prison walls of their souls
love spitting on their ammunitions,peace pissing on their hand grenades, revolt fellatio's their electric batons, until the whole of Burma becomes one gigantic orange and pink dragon, its breath a hurricane of apple blossom,
until then the young Burmese monks coil in their prison cells, holding pink love bites in their mouths of Om, a thirty thousand headed orange snake burning in the forests of labour camps, no tourist snaps this way, by the road side young girls sell glowing orange snake eggs for tourists to take with them, for all peoples revolutions everywhere begin at home.
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The Gathering of Moss.
They told me to be safe that I should stay still like a stone so I slept on through the first dawn of every days creation, slept through the war,slept through the peace,slept through the murder and the mayhem,slept through the deceptions, slept through the truths,slept through the graveyard shifts, slept through the easy births,slept through the learning of my ignorance,slept through the softly stolen lives,slept through the treasure finds,slept through the kisses, slept through the daggers,slept through the approaching comet, slept through the torturing, slept through the heart beats, slept through the bird song,slept through the gun shots, slept through the souls dark place,slept through the smoke and mirrors of living loveless,slept through the government sponsored heroin pushers, slept through the secret states secret arms trade flooding council estates with deadly weapons, slept through the blind eye turned to the cull of our young poor, rather than education and employment,slept through the street war, slept through the grave,slept through the end of time,slept through the lightning of your nervous touch,slept through your thunder storms, slept through my own lonely death,slept through my own goodbyes, O to sleep so sound in the barbed wire of the mad laid mind but they told me to be safe that I should stay still like a stone.
and so here I sit the gathering of moss my guilt. Last update : 24-03-2008 08:29
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