I day dream of lacanian order of Real
Sweet it seems when I think of it down here
When fears sensor my dreams into deeds
Then I’m happy with all my visionless creeds
My frame is an image of tautology
My soul is bound by ideology
Now I find truth nothing but mystery
Now I cannot segregate fiction with history
When I freeze in hell of conflicts like Eskimoos
My friends enjoy visiting rhinos in the zoos
You say real shines like beams of the sun
I say 'fear no more the heat of the sun'
Jesus was lucky that he died centuries ago
Even Jesus would murder his own superego
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
felicitation with fascinating ending. what i grasp from it that the ego is the highest fear, isnt it? ~nb