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EXTORTION FROM FALSE LOVE
EXTORTION FROM FALSE LOVE.
What man has a right to his own? Antiquated conventions
Have usurped what is ours; the suffering has gone on to long;
This tangled suffering caused by false love of the unreal.
All the rights today are to extort riches from some wrong;
Or, to posses what cannot hold on to itself. What is the guilt
Of this age but to fail to increase the freedom of love.
Whenever we do love, it can only be, at most, that we let each
Other go. Holding on comes easy and is not something to be
Learned. Entanglement is the price we pay for lack of love.
We laboriously try to free ourselves from the law because we
Need to be ourselves; however, we pawn our interminable futures
For a mess of pottage. This is our lament; this begrudging giving.
We keep taking up again our bodies trivial circlings as we drive
Animals to the sacrifice. What bewildering mistrust in ourselves
Believing that we could be happy there as if compelling it to be so.
However, as time passes, it is like the relapse into an old illness;
How short is our life when trying to bend our multifarious futures
Into the simple innocence of our forgotten youth; how sad indeed.
It is our custom to be sad because of our customs. We hold on to them
And schizophrenically talk them out of existence. For this, we are
Forced to revisit our pain and this is the repetition of all our hells.
So little can a man call back a woman who no longer sees him;
Or, a mother breathe into her stillborn a life that has passed. We
Raise our blood to an extended work and try to hold on to no avail.
Let it be that whatever our infusions or expectation of life that we
Somehow are innocent and without guile; that whatever we love
Is not something we foist a false heart upon for fear of loss.
Let it be that if something we cherish so much is not purloined by
A false heart and relegated to the status of a prisoner or hostage;
Love given freely is the bromide for the extortion from false love.
