            *********************************************
            *                                           *
            *                                           *
            *          POET WITH A  BROKEN WING         *
            *                                           *
            *                    by                     *
            *                                           *
            *                                           *
            *              KLAUS J. GERKEN              *
            *                                           *
            *                                           *
            *                   1980                    *
            *                                           *
            *********************************************




         
            Can this be ideal
            And if it were what is "idea"
            The passion and the glory
            Or even so the living like another
            The living like the world should be
            Sheltered and secure
            Nothing violated (Nothing gained)
            (What would be the end to all this pain)
            
            It couldn't be a "Lost Horizon"
            It couldn't be that simply defined
            It's like a deity
            Like a love affair
            The giving and the taking
            A tug of war that never ends.
            
            
            
            
            I'm standing on my balcony
            Looking at the shifting crowds
            So much like an audience
            So much like a tideless wave
            Faceless faces No expression there
            I look upon them quite amused
            Wondering what their lives might be
            Wondering about their love and hates
            
            Yet when I am near or am among
            Whoever I might want to be
            I see each an individual
            Each insignificant feature
            Setting each of them apart
            In all their effortless anonymity.
            
            
            
            
            I'm quite alone and feel free to write
            To do whatever needs be done
            I put some Rebrov records on
            I make spaghetti - first time today I took a bite
            I'm hungry as a man should be
            I've borrowed ten and have nothing left
            How's that for running what I fail to run
            
            I tell you reader This is clear
            My minds is hungry for a writers mood
            There's little else - You see
            This atmosphere This mood This time
            Alone is so much more incredibly im-
            portant that I do not care for you - so there.
            
            
            
            
            
            I want to love you so much more
            Than all the songs I want to write
            Than all the things I need to know
            Than incredible as it may sound
            I want to love you so much more
            Than we are so apart - neither knowing
            Where the true path is - Well knowing
            But so hard it is to find that path
            
            First I have to make my choice
            I have to delve into myself - find out
            What I want I need - I need to know
            To make not one but two mistakes
            It's not myself I care about
            But those I love - those I cannot bear to hurt.
            
            
            
            
            I try to be a poet
            But it's hard sometimes to write
            The thoughts will not come easy
            When things aren't going right
            I mean I try and build my life
            Like any other man - I do my
            Best for those I love and love
            To do and want to do much more
            
            But it's so incredibly hard
            To try and to explain - I get
            These feelings - these emotions
            Those that almost force me here
            To be alone - to empty all of all
            I have amassed - to empty and to
            Fill myself - to understand again
            That also I can be myself - as others can.
            
            
            
            
            8:10 Time is fleeting Time is short
            Art is long - or that is what they say
            The candle burns - and inch by inch
            It fades away like all the stars
            That through the universe alight
            Our way - The way that's come mid-way
            This our life's full journey - And even though
            We're lost - we've settled for uncertainty
            
            The universe is vast - but vaster still
            The mind - the boundless energetic
            Restlessness of never giving up the search
            Until we've found another part to play
            Another word to write - another truth
            That chip away at all the lies we now believe.
            
            
            
            
            
            There is a sentence in my mind
            The most true sentence that there is
            The sentence which is clear and proud
            Which tell the truth with no elaborate superfluities
            A sentence that everyone who reads
            Will know at sight and that no critic
            Will dispute or censor or obscure
            A sentence all too perfect for this world
            
            It's there - not as deeply buries you might
            Think - I don't even have to search for it
            It's good enough to know it's there
            And because of it I know I'll write it soon
            But of now I've only seen the shadow
            Cast by this obscurity we think enlightenment.
            
            
            
            
            
            Of course there's hope - there's
            Always hope - you tell yourself
            Nothing - that which falls
            Well - like only myths will
            Cross themselves - it's trice
            The while of waiting - trice -
            Three lives lived in one -
            Compute the unity of that
            
            How can one really know
            Does suffering always pull
            The gaze of pain across a
            Happy face - or simply anger
            Force by knowledge of regret?
            If you understand - accept this end.
            
            
            
            
            
            How lonely is togetherness
            Shared by common misery
            Forced together by a quicksand love
            Drowned before a single brace
            Was found - a single hope -
            These lovers - those who found
            Themselves enemies - Neither
            Want the truth - Falsehood and
            
            Deceit the only way - Reader
            Don't let yourself be sucked this
            Way into the quicksand of regret -
            Those we love we hurt - those we
            Hurt we love - where will it ever end!
            No rest for those who flaunt the sin.
            
            
            
            
            
            If you partake the poison once
            And even then are cleansed -
            You think you are - but really
            Aren't - this follows you forever
            Till you die of the "Myth of Sisyphus"
            The legend all of us must live
            Ever and forever - Do you
            Understand? - There's no need
            
            At all for this - Let the rock
            Remain - It always will roll down
            Again and yet again - that's
            Where it belongs and nothing
            That you do will ever change
            A thing - That's the only way to cleanse...
            
            
            
            
            Poet! Don't regret a thing!
            Everything you do and touch
            Is art - You take it in and
            Spit the venom of your breath
            You spit the flames of truth
            They'll try to extinguish them
            But have no fear - Poet you
            Of all have reason to be the one
            
            To see beyond the obvious
            "Reality" that they've created
            For convenience - There's a 
            Conspiracy against you - What
            Conspiracy? - The one that taunts
            You most - Acceptance to adaptability.
            
            
            
            
            
            Don't say "This is fate" - No such thing
            Everything that you will do to grow
            To learn is change - is the will - the
            Great will of the one most powerful
            Force that there can be - The mind
            The one pure thought - The word
            That sets it all in motion - That
            One force - that seed - Awareness
            
            Of oneself and the selves of others
            Of all creation - Perfect as it must
            Once be and always be - Yet only now
            Is forced by all obscurity to fold
            Beneath the weight of influences it
            Should never hold important to itself.
            
            
            
            
            Certain of the kind of style
            Of life there is - Calypso bought
            The moon of Christmas Eve and
            Thought the gathering upon her-
            Self was less the persecution of
            The light that was the shadow of
            Iniquity - her brother matching
            Wits with lovers she had never seen
            
            Voices echo in the distant mirror
            Of the convoluted sky throughout
            The poison of Calypso eye
            The moon - of course - reviewed everything
            About the earth - about the hunt -
            About the lover that Calypso lost.
            
            
            
            
            
            All kinds of knowledge
            Furthers indiscretion - Poets
            With a broken wing must
            Wait to heal and never try
            To soar the sky or even try
            For why? The truth is obvious -
            Like nursery rhymes must for-
            Tify the belly-ache of time
            
            Reminiscence flavours flight
            In such a way the poet's age
            Forever will be young - The
            Poets eye - The inner eye
            Will guide him throughout the hin-
            Terlands of jealous life.
            
            
            
            
            If it strikes you as the
            Voice of servitude then
            It well might be - you'll yet
            Remain - But do not hesitate
            To plunge right in - for what
            You learn throughout ripe
            Experience you swallow
            Hard but later on regret no more
            
            The singer sang his voice
            Unheard the sweetest sound
            This side of nature's universe
            The sweetest sound outshone
            The sun - At least the singer
            Knew - If not the world - he won.
            
            
            
            
            
            To break the rock and be divine
            Reader that's on all our minds
            Truth and honesty are so refined
            Deceit and lies are all we find
            And when we roll that rock up there
            The balance so precarious
            It rolls with fury down the other side
            With us in double hard pursuit
            
            You see each single path will lead along
            The road to truth we seek so hard
            Each single path we travel on -
            Good sense and all of it - The truth's
            Eternal - Man divine? - Hardly
            Just a slave of time.
            
            
            
            
            We soar
            And through soaring
            Must accept the fall.




            Copyright (c) 1980 Klaus J. Gerken


            Published by:
            Ygdrasil Press
            Web Page: http://www.synapse.net/~kgerken
            Email: kgerken@synapse.net
            Newsgroup: alt.centipede












