Cubism
A conversation with my life…
-yes still am alive…
Camouflage is red shirt
-given by company
- (that I hate)
-I work as Picasso with cubes
-an artist, cubist
Pressed sand and cement
-turned blocks
-varied-looks, long or wide
-different in the depths
-at times
I manage to set them on the wall
-meshed and turned to canvas,
Feel as did the artist
-Picasso
-father and founder to cubism
But am I?
-or simple duplicate
-copying in her way
-mimicking, unaware
-flowing as does shit
-down the hill
-in Kabul
-"Village of Oghana"
Right or wrong, whatever,
-I have fun as does the ostrich
-head in sand, back to sun
-useless, in total loss
In mind and on paper I am her…
-a work of sorcery
-must tell her:
-"Go away…as far as is named hell…
-don't return and do not complain! "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem