POETRY - PHILOSOPHY


Desperadoes

What a gang, if the devil were to now to cast his net, what a catch and a haul
Of seasoned villains, like pirates with glimmering gold hanging from their ears.
Below the now perennial shaven heads, black woollen hat covered,
Rough and ready, but also warm from the gloomy arctic winter winds.
Tales of drunken revelry and sexual escapades, abound at communal breaks,
Married migrant workers, a breed of multifarious escapees.
Each with their own individual story, to tell and carry burdensome around, every moment of the day,
Veiled by masks of bravado and drug booze induced craziness.
A crescendo of escalating aggressive competitiveness, that permeates all.
Is it that they do not notice the hell hole that they daily frequent,
Because of the toxins, they voluntarily inhale and ingest in recreational pursuits,
Desensitizing them to toxins and chemicals, that continually assault the body.
In this dank lifeless, gigantic hole; a world of concrete and steel,
Reverberating from ceaseless piercing noise, and devious political games.
A duality of military orders; security, cleanliness and politeness,
And disheveled civilian worldliness of violence, booze, dope and light fingers.
Where going with the flow, is an art form and way of life,
A prerequisite for survival, in this full on mental marathon.
For without peace of mind, there is no chance to sustain and endure,
Without craziness enveloping one, during this assault upon the bodies and senses.