Le Lapin
Le Lapin
Poetry, Prose &Suche Vol. IV
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Poetry, Prose &Suche Vol. IV

Proclamation: to announce; to recognise an initiative; to make an official declaration

The time has arrived to address play with the fullness of sincerity.


Contents

. progeny . proclivity . proclamation . preponderance


Proclamation

to announce

to recognise an initiative

to make an official declaration


STANDING STILL

We are all standing still

Motoring about in BMW’s

Stair masters adorned by climbing servants

belts moving around and around, remain in one place

recycling the past to find something new

Relearning what’s lost through stock options

lost to the deeper desire of innovation

a standing still repeatedly rehearsing

destructive thoughts through isolated egos

twirling circles on wooden dance floors

aiming to reignite some spark

consumed by pieces of promises

in layered cakes

nodding along

this isn’t close to a demonstration

for awhile ago

this could have been seen coming

as the moment draws nearer

in ‘tis bleached out fervour

the bets can still be placed

those who seem shocked in the face

will be stilled in standing

when the flash blasts forever.


A CURE FOR THE LIE

I must be ugly, sad, and dead

Don’t you bother or feign worry

what you ever say

can’t penetrate my head

surrounded by an imaginary helmet

more convinced of itself

than open to truth

yes, that simple

the ego makes itself to be

gave up learning

a long time ago to see

the fatalistic

no point in focusing

apathy wasting through the lost soul

fixated on identity

when there’s so much more good

that exists out there

take my hand and

I’ll lead the to see

outside

the norm

outside what’s now

outside

let’s go play outside.


ISSUED SOLUTION

The magazines, the movies, the stars, woo!

The reality we’re told we need

The happiness we’re fed on the screen

Images we’re told to uphold

Defining our souls-can’t we just let it all go?

Make no definition and redraw the lines

Flip the switch and live a life

Feel time, as it flows

The stupidity drains and creativity grows

Minds compressed become the hearts are repressed

Aching for spontaneity, some passion, then fire?

Is such a shared experience, truly individuality?

Measured in the difference in what Disney taught us

Toys mommy or daddy bought us

We know such spoils of half riddled lives become those

Ranting, raving, releasing the storms

from behind brick walls while preaching

Back to nature and here’s some tabs for your tongue

Discover purity so proclaimed you keep yourself young

Instead of indulging in the richness of maturity

Where are wrinkled aged faces tolerated by society

For the young to see, the whole stays too long

Rarely understanding the depth of meaning

Waiting in the engagement of the whole being

The day to day waits not always for tomorrow

nor the weekend

while tomorrow holds again the possibility for change

yet again the generations are growing closer in and yet

farther out

all the same.


SHOWER

Simply turning the icy handles

Washes the day away

The air was filled with voice speaking scandals

Now forget and let the mind linger astray

Problems causing me to ramble

Vanish when I say

Simply turning the icy handles

Washes the day away.

Warm droplet stealing kisses like vandals

Peace is what the walls convey

My aura now glowing like a candle

Life was meant to be this way

Simply turning the icy handles

Washes the day away.


BLANKET

Shh, hush child, they say it’s the way

Trust the man with his green loaded gun

Fear is the root, so thinking won’t solve the problem

Got to let the truth in

So your glasses will clear

Sit up now-pay attention

Culture programs the way

Feigning options to choose

Until you walk away

and toward the sun

or the other way

toward the night if you choose

and look the other way

it won’t go away

but you can…

Make the best of what’s in the face-up palm

Chew cautiously

They’ll throw in their seeds

Look up, love, and be saved

That is the way

Look around, tremble, turn to a friend

Shh, hush now for everything’s ok

Fore this is the end.


IF ONLY

It only took one match to burn away three years

Snapshots and memories now lakes of ash in the wind

How much freedom gets lost in forgetting?

Those parts of life that felt doomed

were the way

to finding true happiness sooner.

If only, the mind tricks

Were more obvious

I could have become a bit smarter sooner

Perhaps quicker to find instead of seek

That person thought of as I

Was merely conceived by someone else’s mind

Convincing ourselves deceives life

From the truth eyes paid witness

Such pasted upon masks

Make honest moulds of the sick

If only, the time could be taken back

Instead of having wounds to lick.


SOFA POLITICIANS

Pedestrian talk politics

a common commotion

addition to the grind

the sidewalk buckles

we walk

but look the other way

thoughts trapped

by excesses of solitude

streets roamed by hungry ghosts

people living by rules

doing all they can get away with

to enjoy contentment with nothingness

happiness and sadness

grey without judgement

a time ached for holding hands

shoved deep in pockets

lingering, scraping for fulfillment

nervous, sweaty palms

sometimes need a bit of air

for current generation stations

to again become magnetic.


GASLIGHT

After having my head held underwater

these first breaths out from under his spell

I remember being contained within his surface

Bound up by his lies

Until the day I snapped and screamed

those howls eery for all who could hear…

each day forward the home of my body grew stronger

still unable to stand without a cave to be sheltered within

standing at the edge of here just out side the line

saying goodbye

possessed and then awakened

he dispossessed me

when the emotional mess projections

made upon my body

kept coming to surface

the last tears cried for any man other

than within the loss of my clan

such was not unconditional love

but rather a shallow lust which ran dry

as sure as once the pursuit got his prize

slumped into a space now where wounds suffered can heal

he returned to say sorry and ask to come make life with him

again, disoriented I returned to later remember the story

of how he said it was always in my head

and that I never knew the man I married

such lunacy a boy with his illusions

naively I blamed the skeleton in his closet

the truth unearthed behind the body of his lies

he says what’s convenient for him

one moment to the next, a story always changing

I had lost my mind

and life for awhile

so now

I’m grateful

for retaining my soul.


© Mari Amman

Poetry, Prose &Suche VOL IV.

First edition 2023, electronic distribution. Text and Images by Mari Amman.

The poems contained within this volume were drafted circa 2006-2009, in Chicago, USA, and edited during spring 2023 in Paris, France, with the enormous support of The Trélex Residency.

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