Notes of a madman

(Yorkman)

I don’t know why we mingle the time

With everything that has a right to exist.

The sky, the horizon, the rotting insight,

The sun rolling over the vigorous priest.

We go in a slow and extravagant way

Along the extinct and glorious view.

We never supposed to but simply obey

In order to pet our personal due.

Petty desires console our minds,

Sights of the cities, eternal offence,

Solemn affairs engraved in the rhymes,

Tension of palms undersetting the fence.

Cry and decide deeper rivers to cross,

Smile and return your traveling spite

Splash and collect your shivering thoughts

Splitting the light, hitting the pride.

Try, you will like it! It’s painful at first.

Strive and your efforts will bring you relief.

Melt, just rely on your terrible thirst

Easier blamed then simply believed.

These common days pursue amazed,

Nobly clumsy and buried in fuss,

Falling but raising colorless slaves

Skillfully hidden and tortured in us.

Copyright © Yorkman, 16.11.09