Good Hate

Hatred is a good

Thing

Glowing in the morning sun

Like red leafs in the autumn

It keeps alive

Less numb

Then the Buddhist denial

Strategy pretending

Strengths and righteousness

The cold numbing

Needed only by the generals and

Money collectors

Harmony

In an unknown

Landscape, I find

My self as well

In the depth of the night

That feeling rests

With me a few short

Moments in the morning

Conundrum

More time cannot solve any problems

More of everything is just more

Not better but less

Unbalance between want and  need

When having mad afternoon tea

With a naked girl

Talking nonsense

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At the Bottom

In lowest of the low

In the bottom of the pit

I have to collect myself

Put all the energy

Together

See if anything

Eventually will grow

Flair

Trying to forget

Who I am and why

The night is full of options

Even though it is cold here

I am hallucinating green and blue flowers

In a dessert landscape

On the bottom of the sea

I am floating

Happily until

Morning

Subway mists

And here I am again

An angry man yelling

In the street

Bothering everyone

Passing time by acting

Crazy, dirty and wretched

Scaring children, women and some men

Disturbing the so tranquil balance

Between the conditions of being a town dweller

And just a disturbed frustrated man in a to big flock

Pretending to be living an advanced life in the city of trivial

Dreams impossible to comprehend or ever achieve

But still a city with its much wider but still limited

Freedoms dating back to the free republics of

The white sea in the far south

Long gone Socrates also learned to know its

In fact very strict limitations

Drinking bad wine and talking to much

Day and night

Fever

Freezing and getting warm at the same time

Every fiber in my body wants to rest but I have to stay on my post

Continue to write until the end

But why?

I do not know any more

There is a way back to normal life

But if normal means killing your soul and identity

What then?