A Place To Rest The Mind
The local village square
On the way to the big city
A place where most people go
On Monday morning
We found ourselves trapped
Under circulating police helicopters
Giving a remainder about life under war
But we are not there yet
Just on the way
While drunkards and the drug addicts
Quarrels about what and whom
War has already started
In our minds and dreams
A long time ago
In another millennia
I went to the war
By free will
Not as a soldier
But as a writer and aidworker
I failed miserable
To change the world
But maybe I helped
Someone to live
A better life
For a few moments
That is something
Next to nothing
But still
Something
Sometimes we come in the way
For great men stepping over us
They are not evil
Just busy pursuing
Their hobby
And sometimes
That includes
Sacrificing you
For their noble
Cause
Once I visit the war
As a curious stranger
A young man with
(Quite) noble motives
The war was in full swing
Being near the frontline
In a besieged city
Listening to random shooting
Feeling trapped and scared
I felt very well, being in a sort of
Hypertension being aware
Feeling strong and present
I returned to my safe country
Leaving the war behind
I fell and kept on falling
Feeling like a rundown
Tired octogenarian
The tiredness never left
I could not stop returning
To the war or forget the people
I met in the city
Still things got more complicated
The good people were not that good
Just human with a twist being in a war
Everything became human and very
Complex,perplex a culture with
Different rule that applied
All the great projects became crooked
Like life itself
So eventually I put everything on the shelf
You can see it coming
A few years from now
The conflicts and the wars
But today when the sun shines
And the wind blows through
The treetops
It does not really matter
Yet
Dystopia is here with the rain
As well as the cold humidity of a
Meadow in the summer
We never wanted to be here
Always on the run
Moving from city to the city
But being a prison of
Time and circumstances
Not much choices being given
Being tired
Writing, thinking and feeling
The mind is worn out
Tired and wounded
The memories are hiding
In their cave
Soon new challenges
Will come
New battles to be fought
To be lost or won
While the sun sets
In life
The war started
Early in May
Being lost a surprisingly
Quick speed
We hid in our basements
Trying to make the most of it
But when the heavy rains
Started in June
We had enough
By then the war was over
But the problems remained
So we took our last money
And went to the mountain
Being treated as outcasts by
The locals
We spent the evenings
Discussing Nietzsche and kept
To ourselves
In the autumn we returned
To the city with
A completely new view of the world
Yes, it is true
The war is lost
Long before it ever started
Like a good war should be
the world turns on a word
I'm just another dreamer...
let's mend the broken
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Talking about comedy that is not worth talking about
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A monthly event... LAFeedbackFilmFestival.com
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It is all about words. Your words are enough to shatter someone's heart. Your words are enough to make a broken heart unbroken. Words have the power to change your life perspectives.
P_KAY
Because one subject isn't enough
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