Torture garden
(Octave mirbeau)

Your obliged to pretend respect for people
and institutions you think absurd.
You live attached in a cowardly fashion to moral
and social conventions you despise, condemn
and know lack all foundation.
It is that permanent contradiction between your ideas and desires
and all the dead formalities and pretences of your civilization
which makes you sad, troubled and unbalanced.
In that intolerable conflict you lose all joy of life
and all feeling of personality
because at every moment   they suppress, restrain
and check the free play of your powers.
That's the poisoned and mortal wound of the civilized world.

The shell
(Molly Drake)

Living grows round us like a skin
to shut away the outer desolation
for if we clearly mark the furthest deep
we should be dead long years before the grave.
But turning around within the homely shell of worry,
discontent and narrow joy, we grow and flourish
and rarely see the outside dark that would confound our eyes.
Some break the shell, I think that there are those
who push their fingers through the brittle walls and make a hole
and through this cruel slit stare out across the cinders of the world.
With naked eyes they look both out and in
knowing themselves, and too much else besides.

Death is nothing at all
(Henry Scott Holland)

Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I, and you are you
whatever we were to eachother
that we still are
call me by my old familiar name
speak to me in the easy way
which you always used too
put no difference in your tone
wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together
smile, think of me, pray for me
let my name be ever the household word
that it always was
let it be spoken without effort
with no trace of shadow on it
life means all that it ever meant
it is the same as it ever was
there is unbroken continuity
why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight
I am waiting for you
somewere very near
just around the corner
all is well.

free will and testament
(Wyatt/Kramer)

Given free will but within certain limitations,
I cannot will myself to limitless mutations,
I cannot know what I would be if I were not me,
I can only guess me.

So when I say that I know me, how can I know that?
What kind of spider understands arachnophobia?
I have my senses and my sense of having senses.
Do I guide them? Or they me?

The weight of dust exceeds the weight of settled objects.
What can it mean, such gravity without a centre?
Is there freedom to un-be?
Is there freedom from will-to-be?

Sheer momentum makes us act this way or that way.
We just invent or just assume a motivation.
I would disperse, be disconnected. Is this possible?
What are soldiers without a foe?

Be in the air, but not be air, be in the no air.
Be on the loose, neither compacted nor suspended.
Neither born nor left to die.

Had I been free, I could have chosen not to be me.
Demented forces push me madly round a treadmill.
Demented forces push me madly round a treadmill.
Let me off please, I am so tired.
Let me off please, I am so very tired.

 

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