There’s no excitement at all by the human side unless there’s some form of activity
Just like the flow of blood by the hind side
When that happens, the stage is vibrant and the twists and turns are cause for curiosity
The gyrations begin the story by a feather, by pencil and then a pen
The end of which is a crescendo of noise, a form of shape or a loss of shape
Beauty as ugliness, expression of happiness as in pain ignite excitement
Thus the love of life is the opposite of static
And anathema to the statues of reverent and irreverent people
Thus the epitome of life should be accepted as puerile
Not surprising, the judge of life disappointed his disciples
By pointing below the belt as the start of life
When the mistaken height of the statue was an obvious representation of reverence
Nor is it surprising that the love of life is the light of life
The nurture of tender life is the preserve of excitement
The noise will come, the rain will come and the war will come
The statue will remain the sight of stupidity or vulnerability
By the side of nature the human side will be excited by beauty, ugliness and horror
The noise will come, the rain and the wind will come, and the war will come
The comfort and discomfort will cause excitement
Excitement to stop the avoidable and inevitable
Excitement to dance in the storm, to run with the wind, to join the war or renege
Either way there’s a story to be told, the short one and long one
NNkuna,18 Dec 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem