Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Lament for the Makers

Today, I just want to write a lament
For today since I’ll never
See you again. I have to stay
Late at work to do this.
I hope my family will be OK with it
But I’ll do it away. See?
I’m writing my lament.
But the thing is, is that just because you want to
Write a lament
Doesn’t mean that you’ll get a
Lament. Let me start by saying that
I am so tired of the false language
Of life. Light has a language too,
But it is not false, it is
Truthful. So light is not human,
It is ethereal but, then again,
it only realizes
Itself when it hits the flesh.
Stupid sun, I so am tired of you.
When I think about the spring
All rolled up on the horizon
The fear of death does not
Disturb me. It’s as if from that
Phrase, some flowers popped up
And started reciting their lament
Like this is a cartoon or grave.

1 comment:

Benjamin Bourlier said...

Sandra, your poetry has in common with Trier's films that I love it and that it makes me both lucid and depressed.