I don't smoke because I think it's cool
I don't smoke because I want to look cool
I don't smoke because one of my idols
The psychoanalist smoked
I don't smoke because my favorite characters smoked
I smoke because I grew up
I smoke because there was always that drop
Of rebellion towards society
I judge it every day, but I rarely write about it
I sit and I think
Endlessly, as I always did
As my ego disappears, I think about others.
You smoked because there was always
That rebellion against society
Against yourself.
And even now
When you know the evils of the toxins
In the cigarette you're craving and puffing
You continue to puff it
Cognitive dissonance, my friend
Is our greatest enemy.
As if artists have
A dissonant relationship with themselves and society
„I won't smoke"
And they smoke a pack
Whilst others question them, judge them
„Mommy, why does the artist smoke? "
„Why does the artist exist? "
„Why does she question the meaning of life
Each and every second
Ever since her Waking? "
The mother ran away
Whilst holding the child's hand
For she did not know
The answer to the questions
The mother only said:
„Do not smoke, it is bad for you."
The child said: „Okay.
Can I get some ice cream? "
The mother said: „Sure
Let's lick on some juice
That came from another living being
That is not me."
But the child was curious
And seeked for the truth
Like a whitehead journalist
Who hacked into Pentagon
„Mommy, mommy
Why is smoking bad?
Mommy, mommy
Can I have a hat? "
The mother was in shock
So she called up a doctor
„My child is mad!
I have given birth to the Antichrist! "
The doctor came
To the child's bed
„Shush, my child
Don't be afraid."
The child was curious
Just as a child should be
„Why are you doing this
To me? "
And so
Neo was born.
The child ran away
For he finally saw the truth
The doctor only meant
Harm
The doctor only wanted
To kill something
So human
So intriguing
So brilliant
So
The genius was born, Neo was awake
He took the red pill
And jumped bravely
Into the rabbit's hole...
Mommy was dead
But the child came back
To the very same place
Where He licked ice cream
But answered his own questions
The artist doesn't smoke
Because she is blind
The artist smokes
Because she sees the lies
So she blows smoke in them
So the others won't see
The true nature of reality.
„Hello Neo! "
Said the artist
As she puffed away
„Take a seat! "
„Do you want some meat? "
But of course, Neo
For the Übermensch He is
Screamed: „NO! I do not
Consume suffering
Of innocent living beings
Of the 4 legged, two legged, one legged
Half legged."
The artist smiled
For she finally saw
What she always wanted to see
A man who saw reality
But did not accept it
NO! He did not!
He cursed it!
He called those women
who hide the truth
WITCHES OF THE WEST! THE EAST
THE NORTH, THE SOUTH!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An epic piece, Hana. Thank you for sharing