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i am the dissident poetician...i tear down fences with sardonic sardines and metaphysical cucumbers

Tuesday, June 14, 2016


A prized fighter
Punching above his weight
And there’s not much of it
A wee little thing
Who fights tooth and nail
For all that he wants:
Sweet self-destruction
And the taste of bitterness
For reality is much too hard to handle
It bites really hard
Every time he gets somewhere
He screws it up again
Especially when he’s close to succeeding
Guess that makes him a skilled saboteur
Killing off what little hope remains with precision
Almost achieving impunity
But no deeds go unpunished
Every action has its karmic cost
There’s no escaping it
What you don’t give today
You will not get a skerrick of tomorrow
It’s the way the cookie crumbles
So he keeps fighting the heavyweights
Aims to topple them from their high castles
Always in the back of his head:
The realisation he is fighting a losing battle
For Goliath will not go down without much struggle
It's going to be an epic battle
And when the tank falls, how glorious the days will be
He could finally hang up his gloves
And give his indignation a permanent break
No more prominent veins on his forehead
But that is but a childish fantasy
Systems cannot be brought down by rage alone
Persistence and cunning are also required
Not going to happen in an atmosphere of ultra-violence
Inflamed passions no longer serving good
Only leading him straight into a brick wall
So he ponders his immediate future
And finally sees where he’s been going wrong
It’s been much easier for him just to keep fighting
For that’s all he’s known for twenty long years
Sabotaging any chance of a peaceful solution
Turning the anger in on himself
Employing weapons of mass destruction
Against the self whose demise he sought
Who said anything about hurting others?
He would never do that
Time for the pot shots to cease
And for the healing process to begin

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