Living Freedom Archive

From: THRALL

……when obscenely further back, malefic
democracy broken open,
optionally steps through you
disappearing in the dips
and the bourgeois body
pursued to the limits of faded money
wills not
to jump its shark

impressed into the radiation
a single torrential fusion
draw aside panoptic
collapse of time and space
by none
exacted with more rigor

we, who go through the day
as yet unmingled in ceaseless flux
all the dead darkness
skyward…working the vault

others in ersatz, gibbous sanctums
fire inversions of fear gleaming
redemptive glee,
the cauteries……

o, chaosists,
disintegratingly whisper
dieu le veut! god wants it!
to favor vicious prelates

defence itself a
seemingly invulnerable lie
feeding upon entropies
and that labor..
there as here
delightful at death

strip us out
first money,
then time
now intimacy

through effort and cunning
and no other manacle than logic
we think we state the cause,
wandering the halls of any science
as if orgies of naming
shimmy the body
of everyone,
chaotic as an egg
all at sea
snatching

esprit des bagatelles!
coagula!
whose nature it is to be one long want
dartle along the surface of a
frictionless ocean

enring us
not as casuistries’ pulsation
nor as fashions of ruling accidias,
it is this inanity, this tenacious feces
deciding for the world
behind custodies of
small and large sadisms

as if we could……
through the agency
of moral incontinence..

and to then
lay odorless

o, takers-in of the sublime
some call sheer lifelessness,
do not give way,
wild-rice flourishes in slow-flowing streams,
and summer lightning..
matutine..
knowing the cause of beauty in fruit,
or the bliss of melting love,
thoughts have mass..

any of this dogs the XYZist, cacophonies and
boffo intellectual franchisees
can be but
lobby-fodder
exuders of poignant helplessness

will the scapegoatee never triumph or
shame the obliterating bloodier?

even some poets
gently hate the world
blurring the dignities
ipsa manu, ignes fatui
while isomorphic to capitalism-imperialism
does first embrace manifestations of
apish ditsy chichi gauzy glib tacky puerile profundities
even if ungermane……it lifted you
who pluck the word wasp from a lexicon
when the same is untouched by
the sap of a thing in snowy waste

in the stumbling that speaks for me
I say death to vanity,
solipsism’s potency
let the pyrrhic
burning thorn
in deeper
Mercy is above Justice

by Lissa Wolsak
Poet ~ Essayist
Energy Field Therapist
Vancouver, B.C., Canada

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