Neptune was my father,
And Venus, my caress,
Really, do not bother,
To figure out this mess.
At the ocean, seashore,
There were some arrests,
All the Thinking People,
Got, alcoholic tests.
Loons and goons were dancing,
High up on the hill,
Never really knowing,
Why the World stood still.
Then there were the Speeches,
Endlessly Insane,
Telling everybody,
'Thinking' was in vain,
And next time they tried it,
They'd get Purple Rain,
In an upside-down cell,
At the County jail.
Not your typical Sandracita poem- but very effective, picturesque, and evocative. You're a poet of many shades and multiple talents- and that is one of the reasons you have your so many admirers. (Including, of course, moi!)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem you wrote about four years ago. I guess the country is in a greater mess now. I wonder what you would write now. Thanks for the note. The surrealistic image of the never ending political mess and distress has been so wonderfully painted in this poem! Loved reading it and realizing what you wanted to say.