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Saturday, 12 April 2025

I message You Nothing

Whatever I’d write to you,
no matter how beautiful
Brief and bright—it would melt away
As if it had never existed
Not even as imagination
Just a paper sigh
The laughable crying of struck keys.

I’d instead write nothing.
Make this moment impersonal
Hours and days will grow out of it
Lonely trees, birds hiding behind clouds
Ridiculous fantasies...

It’s all too much Pain—
There always seems to be more of that
Enough to wilt any joy
What joy?
The one we fake, lie about,
Enlarge each day
To survive this world
This clown-factory we’ve made
With no exit
Injustice, inequality
Mountains of trash
Empty eyes,
staring into their phones
Spitting out microplastic
Playing tourist
Flying around like nothing’s wrong.

I’m going mad! Watch the awful feeding
This brainless, stupid giant we’ve become
Rushing
Eating
Shitting
Until one day
It slams into its own concrete wall
And finally, it goes quiet.

I won’t write you anything
Because there’s nothing to say
I’d like to be joyful
But it’s hard to be joyful
At all.



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Copyright © 2009-2023 J. Nemakar. All rights reserved. This notice asserts your legal ownership of the work and your exclusive right to reproduce, distribute, and publicly display it. Including the year of creation and your name helps identify you as the creator of the work, which can be important in the event of any legal disputes. By using this notice, you are putting others on notice that you are claiming copyright protection for your work and that they cannot use it without your permission. Minden jog fenntartva. Az oldalon található szövegek a saját munkáim. Szerzői jog védelme alatt állnak. További felhasználásuk nem engedélyezett.

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