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Poetry Magnum Opus

Good-bye 2012!


dedalus

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I live and groove in the present moment

to the shame and horror of my living family

presently overseas. God bless you silly son,

and never use your right real name. I can claim

nothing. I am nothing. I look and wonder:

 

Ho little snail

up you go, move along,

climb Mount Fuji!

 

Matsushima, oh!

Matsushima, Matsushima,

Matsushima oh!

 

We are so happy here,

so happy in Japan:

a thing that nobody

seems to understand.

 

We live in a world of serious

make-believe, the pain mixing

with the fun. The fun wins out

on weekends, the pain comes down

as a real thing, you say nothing.

 

So, I had a serious accident,

possibly told you: thought I’d

be dead for a bit, wasn’t in the end.

Everyone says I was lucky

the usual marmalade shite

 

with all of them taking credit

for keeping me alive. Honest to God!

You’d want to laugh, so you would,

if your ribs weren’t cracked, so that

each gust of laughter comes out with a gasp

 

and you think “I am not really here”.

No, I am not really here.

But at times I think I am.

 

I live and groove in the present moment

among friends with whom I take my ease.

God bless you, silly man, you crazy Irish fucker!

I am Irish. I am not crazy. I can claim

nothing. I am nothing. I still look and wonder.

 

Good-bye 2012!

 

................. version 2 ......................

 

I groove & move in the present moment

to the shame and horror of my living family

presently overseas. God bless you, silly son,

but never use your right real name. I claim

nothing. I am nothing. I look and wonder:

 

Ho little snail

up you go, move along,

climb Mount Fuji!

 

And the rain came down like thunder

out of the slipshod glimmering East:

Kyrie, Kyrie

Kyrie eleison!

 

666 is the Mark of the Beast

(dial +81 for Japan)

 

Matsushima, oh!

Matsushima, Matsushima,

Matsushima oh!

 

And we are so happy here,

so happy in Japan:

a cherry blossom Lotus Land,

a simple thing, nobody

seems to understand.

 

Così stupendo, Quasimodo!

 

In a world of serious

make-believe, the pain can run

with the fun. Fun may win

on weekends, pain resides,

and abides forever. Say nothing.

 

Had a serious accident, quite

sure I told you: thought I was

dead for a bit, wasn’t in the end.

Everyone says I was lucky

the usual marmalade shite

 

Dominus vobiscum ...

 

with half the world taking credit

for keeping me alive. Honest to God!

You’d want to laugh, so you would,

if your ribs weren’t cracked, so that

each gust of laughter comes out with a gasp

 

and you think “I am not really here”.

No, I am not really here.

But at times I think I am

 

(et cum spiritu tuo)

 

here again in the present moment

among the friends with whom I take my ease.

God bless you, silly man, you crazy Irish fucker!

Irish, yes. But I am not crazy. I can claim

nothing. I am nothing. I still look and wonder.

 

Good-bye 2012!

Drown your sorrows in drink, by all means, but the real sorrows can swim

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