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Jonathan Klein Poem
I have walked the Earth and now my path tapers,
twisted ambivalence has me dancing on the razor,
contamination seeps through every reinforced layer,
I aim at two protectors but which one is the traitor?
Already exhausted, no finish line to this race.
From my sincere change I feel myself disengage.
Jingling in my pocket the keys to this cage,
am I surrendering or is it war that I wage?
My patience is pumping on a single cylinder,
once sacred vows now just repetitive literature,
once sweet purity has turned to vinegar,
once felt liberty has left me a prisoner.
Two-faced allegiance to Mickey Mouse revolutions,
so I discard my armor and dive into their solutions.
Clarity blurs and thin convictions turn translucent,
I writhe in arrogance to reduce wholesome convolution.
Forfeited composure, how could I glorify these nights?
With no more standards to lower I lose sight of my plight,
I reach over my shoulder and stick in the knife,
my blood runs colder as I get closer to the afterlife.
Foundations once solid now expelled as vomit,
no more strain to change or force to be honest,
my heart shudders with disgrace as I break this promise.
Now I cower to a place where the broken are flawless,
circling the drain...finally, I'm home again.
Copyright © Jonathan Klein | Year Posted 2018
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Details |
Jonathan Klein Poem
Scrounging my barren streets for mental calories
Hands tied trying to eat another temporary solution
Each new moon one eyelet closer to certain fragility
Countless pounds of synthetic leather,
Cork and carbon rubber
Now among the withered
In the vastness of obsolescence
But I do not despair
Nor divert from the middle way
I smile,
For the newly sown carpet
Of clunky river rocks strewing my path
Lest another asphalt scar
Blemish the flustered face of this world
Smile for pasta...again!
Shy, humble ingredients
Each one distinguished in scarcity
For I trust that one day flames will sing
Jolly cast iron will sway in affluence
Over a proud stove-top
Boasting only the freshest of organic jewels
I smile for another dauntless beginning
Another trivial job
Another detour from true passion
Because my course
Is as linear as the condor's
And that is liberty
I believe that I generate opportunity
I am the author of my circumstances
And I AM the love for which I seek.
Copyright © Jonathan Klein | Year Posted 2018
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