Poem by Neil Solan
Why do we presume when we know it is wrong?
Are greater forces at work
And will they be in there for long?
The strain I was feeling, there, deep inside
Erupted from the medium and this pain I despise.
The emulsion of man, is wearing off fast,
There's not a lot I can do
When the mould has been cast.
My luck may be changing, dare I say it, it's good!
Touched by an angel while touching the wood,
But don't pass it on, contagion is bold,
If it's not broke, don't fix it,
I don't want your cold.
Destitution destroys you all the way home,
But what could be waiting?
What have I unknowingly shown?
Let us go to Venice for forever and a day,
There's a gondola for sale
And this landscape is grey.
Are you aware of the horrors ahead?
When the music fades out there will remain only dread.
But I owe my existence to a star in the North,
I'm reborn through her fingers and connected for sure,
She opens me calmly and with such aplomb,
I have as much resistence as a spark towards the bomb.
Calmly and surely she lays down her head
For tonight is the night I sleep in her bed.
Comments about Vicissitudes by Neil Solan
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