Mad Monday Notice

i don’t feel

Just am so tired

And still the sun shines

Behind the cloud

The pine-trees moving in the wind

Talking their own language

Making their conclusion

Is another time you know now

But what time is it?

What time is it now?

The time of hot, hot summer

And strange diseases

Or the time of other things

We don’t know

Around us

Around us

People are dying

We go around pretending

Is nothing going on

People isolate and procrastinate

Getting angry, drunk or sad

Anything to get out of the mad, mad place

That has become our space

Message of Change

This year, like last year

In this cold and damp

Country

We had the earliest and

longest summer

Ever known

The woods started burning

And the grass turned brown

Already in May, the cattle

Had to be slaughtered

Because of the drought

It is a great illusion

That nothing will

Change or is changing

This summer is also

Comes early

We do not need to

Continue this road of

Self destruction

This summer one month

Earlier than normal

Changes everything

The great illusion

Is believing that our

World will not change

being here

But being there,

Paradise

The sky changed colour

Became dirt gray

More than hundred people

Died that day trying to leave

Paradise the city in California

Was burning, only one way out

Everybody trying to leave

At the very same time

Their souls and body

Surrounded us in the city

As a sad memory

Remaining us that we cannot

Change so easy

A paradox of the mind