There You Are

O There you are, seemingly out of reach.
You ponder deeper as you get older.
You have a spirit in need of axioms.
Logic, thereby reason, is contingent
On who it is that enters what belief.
Relativism is a real event.
Philosophy? Faith? What do those words mean
When the game is about hooking them in?
So in peace the systems remain sovereign.
What appears static is indeed dynamic.
You cannot know what you cannot perceive.
So you may not intervene presuming
There at the intersection of a cross
She'll be exactly where you'll be watching.
What if she just does not want to know?
Why do you not go up and say hello
Like any old fool in love with a face?
Would you go there on specific purpose?
No, she and you are just punctual, that's all.
Sometimes she is a yard or so behind,
Sometimes she is a yard or two in front
But neither she nor you can stop moving.
Towards a vague historical city.
When there is no word given for something
Like Wittgenstein one must remain silent.
You can ask her to see it for herself.
The sketch ought to show with many arches,
That you are at one with simple pastimes
Such as; walking through gilded colonnades,
Funky promenades with the thronging fans,
The hurly burly of an all night feast.
Abraham beckons from a corner stone,
"Thanking the Lord for his fingers".
You are a man from a foreign land
There're so many things you don't understand
If they build you up just to let you down
That's just the way it goes, the way it goes
The scenic mountains of love yesterday
Told you that it is here you've got to stay
If the field of blunt stones would break your bones
That's just the way it goes, the way it goes
Your friends saw the truth in the morning dew
Of your youth, as fate was calling you
You just came and there is no one to blame.
That's just the way it goes, the way it goes.
The streaming fountains will never be dry.
Underneath the gaze of the big blue sky
The grass is greener on the other side.
Afterwards you sit and stare at the wall.
She comes, she goes, maybe you miss the call
Maybe in the rush she forgets your name.
As phenomena becomes abstraction
The being in you, some would call, a man
Protests the absence of genuine humour
At the places where decisions are made
That is your name. It is always the same.
You feel the energy and confidence
Placed in things that can crack open and sink
You are back in the streets of old Hong Kong
Where your father, as a boy, fell in love
With a Danish blond in a pony tail
You'll be home again before too long.
The neon colours of the night is strong 
Like the passion, that composes a dance.
George Gershwin plays the Rhapsody in Blue
Linking the past, present and the future,
In your industry of entertainment.

ROMA, 19 March 2022



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