This is a poem I wrote on the second day of 2007.
Breakfast and tv
New year’s day two
but nothing’s new for breakfast
a glass of cold bloody killings
and a burned toast of scattered bodies...
His monotone voice announces the daily menu
neverchanging
and in the background
a much known music made up of
machine-gun fire and unending cries
of vengeance or grief...
Presidents, primeministers, generals and ambassadors
serve us the usual plates
their shiney impeccable smiles
and us, with cannibal forks and knives,
savour the raw delicacies
while engaging in annoying nonsense
playing the part of god
condemning the bad and evil
upholding the good and just
(I’m always asking myself where do
these two exactly stand?
Are they friends or foe?)
Many years have fled
since the year of peace was announced
but still black clouds cover our eyes
and cold winds blow in our hearts
and the usual killing notes knock incessantly
at our ears’ doors...
Almost unknowingly
I see myself stand up and walk
towards another room
whistling a happy tune...
