Hurricane

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pelegrino
pelegrino
11 Followers

LEMONIA (F)LEAP EDELTRAUD => FOR OTHER REASONS (Working Title) => INTER-TEMPORAL: BRIEF CHRONICLES

WEST LONDON
SUNDAY
27/10/2013

HURRICANE

1
Tonight we expect a hurricane,
The biggest, they say, since eighty seven,
Since then this planet's course has been insane,
Knocking without a hope the gates of Heaven.

Since then, or thereabouts we took a turn,
These facts of history can't be disputed,
There was also another hurricane,
Not only trees, we were ourselves uprooted.

Balance of power shifted to the right,
Conservatism and globalization,
I'm glad this hurricane comes tonight,
Maybe it will change again our comprehension.

2
Uprooted oaks in Richmond I recall,
The difference between Brixton and Kew Gardens,
Reagan and Thatcher for a common goal,
Threats and cold war, each day the talking hardens.

The pair of them attacking Gorbachov,
So, finally in Malta he surrenders,
Maybe the Russians think they're better off,
The West is now ruled by gentle benders!

The Polish "Solidarity" wins funs,
The Polish Pope has fake flames ignited,
The Goths, the Celts, the Slavs, but more, the Huns,
Demand that Germany is re- united.

In Brandenburg the folk rush to the gates,
And Lenin later on comes down crumbling,
Steve Jobs has lost the battle to Bill Gates,
And still the thunder of this world is rumbling.

Look socialism collapsing in one night,
The whole of Eastern Europe brews reaction,
The comrades gave up without a fight,
The Pope has fun in his unholy action.

Yeltsin is waving now the czarist flag,
The hummer and the sickle is forgotten,
On sidewalks reduced to a red rag,
This "New World Order" comes, all cruel and rotten.

Humanity forgets its own curse,
So, history for ever is repeated,
I wonder if a thing could still be worse:
The clever by the stupid outwitted.

Big cow boy Reagan on his horse,
Just like Saint George leading us to millennium,
It is too late to escape this course,
The lunatics took over the asylum.

3
What follows, you can call Afghanistan,
Political Correctness, Global Village,
Provincial foot ball, Iraq-Iran,
Death and Destruction, Crisis, Banker's Pillage.

Whatever you may call it is correct,
These words can always take some new meaning,
Big Brother came at last, with all his sect,
Humanity is loosing, he is winning.

George Orwell probably had sussed it out,
For all his anti-Stalinist confusion,
I'm writing for your shake, Edeltraud,
Dispelling this "New Order's" PAX ILLUSION.

How do we stay far from the madding crowd?
Would it be wise not to take sides?
Where do we fit in, dear Edeltraud?
Our non-importance to this world collides.

4
In this "New Order" I did meet you, miss,
The deference in our age was perplexing,
From Merkel's Germany you came to Greece,
To find a Greek kamaki, muscles flexing.

Our love affair retains its interest,
In parallel to times as it's moving,
A Greco-German tie, not at its best,
But never mind that, we are still grooving.

Today is your birthday, my lass,
I've sent a card, a message, and my longing,
Let's groove some more, and value our middle class,
Scruing somewhere, but somewhere else belonging.

It is just like Germany and Greece:
Your nation's wealth from mine it is taken,
You took it all and killed me with a kiss,
It's in the Bible this trick! Am I mistaken?

You meet with me, a follower of Marx,
You fall in love, but Freud has destroyed you,
You want me to protect you from the sharks,
I will, there is no way to avoid you.

There was no way cause I fell in love,
That's stronger than a million hurricanes,
I did protect you but you flew, my dove,
To this "New Order" which will bring you pains.

Today is your birthday, my lass,
So, hurricanes come in celebration,
A hurricane that passed you were, alas,
And left me with this all-confused narration.

Do not mistake as personal comments,
These things I write for you, hold weight for many,
Our own world is still without ends,
Our love, of the most pure, if there were any.

So let us groove together once again,
Now that free of lust we view each other,
Let us provoke tonight's hurricane,
To make of us a father and a mother.

Are we what to each other we profess?
Is anybody else in this "New Order",
Is it ok this life or just a mess,
And our descendants go for canon fodder?

War will not stop by giving faith to lies,
But this "New Order" lie is all pervading,
Disorder of our thoughts it signifies,
And alchemy as science masquerading.

True knowledge is still our only hope,
Critical we must be of what we study,
Believing in false prophets we must drop,
As our desire for peppermint and candy.

Yeltsin and Reagan, Thatcher and the Pope,
Lenin and Freud, Marx, the clearest voice,
They are all gone, each one leaving his dope,
To smoke or not to smoke it's still our choice.

Steve Jobs has lost the battle to Bill Gates,
So all of us can worship MICROSOFT,
The IMF will come up with new rates,
For loving, porno-hard, or porno-soft.

Angela Merkel will be gone, no doubt,
I hope you did not vote for those who tide you,
Choose carefully your dope, my Edeltraud,
Choose carefully the thoughts that will guide you.

This human race will never be so smart,
Gun trades and wars are every day conspired,
The German state plays its secret part,
Your peaceful time has also expired.

There is no peace, or PAX, or what you will,
Study to fight on, after I'm taken,
Whoever seems a friend, he's for the kill,
Study the human values, now forsaken.

But study something real, a science true,
Even if you believe my words unkind,
A time of war is coming fast to you,
Leave Erik Fromm, Lacan, and Freud behind.

Investigating Journalism sounds good,
Clinical Psychiatry is splendid,
"But there may be some shortages of food,"
Study this lie and how to offend it.

Study and stay strong after I'm gone,
The children of this world will need protection,
Into this life we come and go alone,
And what is worse: There is no resurrection.

STYLE MODULATION

5
A Greek kamaki never falls in love,
As a kamaki, then, I'm sure, I failed,
My honor and my shame, as I rove,
By your green eyes, helpless I'm still nailed.

A Greek kamaki only fucks about,
You could not race with me in that fast lane,
You're lucky to have had me, Edeltraud,
To you a man, to others hurricane.

They say, this hurricane of tonight,
Will hit the land with ninety miles speed,
Let's not go down again without a fight,
Betray human need for human greed.

In eighty seven you had not been born,
In ninety six, same day in October,
Dreaming of you, by doubts I was torn,
I could say more, but I don't feel I'm sober. (1)

You're younger than this curse, my pretty elf,
In ninety six you were a girl of seven,
Try to forgive us, fortify yourself,
We fucked Big Time this world in eighty seven.

You are just what you are because of us,
Your daddy, and your mummy, and your lover,
Hard fought for rights selling with no fuss,
Until your future was all done and over.

You are just what you are because of us,
The fault is in my own generation,
Your future we betrayed, my sweet lass,
In our straight course we had an aberration.

An aberration always to the right,
Hegelian Idealism pretending,
I hope this hurricane of tonight,
Will set the record straight, our case amending.

An aberration always to the right,
To Reagans and to Merkels of this world,
I hope this hurricane of tonight,
Will strike within us a more human chord.

An aberration always to the right,
Our leftist inclinations not withstanding,
I hope this hurricane of tonight,
Will clarify our misunderstanding.

An aberration always to the right,
The course of history we have distorted,
I hope this hurricane of tonight,
Will smile at you, going, by police escorted. (2)

It's not your fault for been just what you are,
Your human values been so volatile,
You'd like to be far, but where is "far"?
I hope you see this hurricane's smile.

6
I've heard tonight's news, Lou Reed is dead,
I'll always respect his crazy ride,
Forget that "Οrder", take a walk instead,
To see the truth that stands on the wild side.

The hippies and the rockers of this world,
The avant garde of Velvet Underground,
My generation standing in the cold,
And every day betraying its own ground.

It's not your fault for been just what you are,
The hippies and the rockers turned to fashions,
They lost the battle watching a falling star,
You are one of countless repercussions.

The wind blows stronger now from south west,
Its brutal force is gathering momentum,
I'll fight and I'll do for you my best,
This is a struggle, is not a referendum.

I'm not that Big South Weather of your life, (3)
Much as I'd like to be, I'm not that cruel,
I am in London, visiting my wife,
Perhaps renew with her our loving duel.

You cannot have qualities like her's,
To duel because of love, but not of hate,
Loving is only for a soul that dares,
So, for your soul, my baby, it's too late.

I cannot save your soul, you only can,
But I can give you still some good instruction:
To separate a father from his son,
It's worthless for whatever satisfaction.

You cannot have some properties like her's,
and if you had them, long ago you lost them,
Those properties that every lover shares,
Out of the fridge, perhaps you could defrost them.

I cannot see, of hers, a shade in you,
Her innocence, her politics, her beauty,
Presenting me the rarest shade of blue,
She still acts out of love, not out of duty.

I'm not that Big South Weather number three,
For ever yours, South Weather number one,
To save you from "New Orders", make you free,
You get my drift, I think, again you can!

7
To you I'll be a gentle south breeze,
A summer memory lost in blue mist,
Having you on your hands and on your knees,
In stylish doggy style of Near East.

Your story, Edeltraud, has been told,
A few hard chapters still are outstanding,
But something between us far too old,
Demands our honesty and understanding.

Your story, Edeltraud, will go up,
I've found all testimonies and photos,
All sms and videos, all that crap,
All vows of love and all our other mottoes.

I'll write and re-write in past tense,
Hopping that in the end of this love story,
To you or to myself will make some sense,
With all details, beautiful or gory.

Your story, Edeltraud, is all done,
To Lemonia let's turn now our attention,
There's nothing you can hide under this sun,
What happened to that girl's re-incarnation?

I was in love with her, as you well know,
What happened? Did you kill her? Is she buried?
She was my greatest dream of long ago!
Love story! Would you like me to air it?

This story I will post in cyber space,
Not waiting for the turning of the tide,
My Lemonia's innocent loving face,
Her memory, will always be my guide.

You killed that lovely lassie, Edeltraud,
You killed my love, so how can I forgive you?
I'm struggling between certainty and doubt,
Whether to stay and love you or to leave you.

Your story, Edeltraud, will go up,
To blow your pretense out of its course,
Your falling into your dishonest trap,
Narrated by the mouth of the horse.


EPILOGUE
I'm waiting tonight this hurricane,
Wishing it to uproot all false believing,
The reasons that have driven you insane,
Like so many millions dead or living.

So, happy birthday, once again,
Today you become two years old!
I wish you frost and snow, sleet and rain,
And all your German summers ever cold.

So, Happy Birthday, once again,
My Lemonia, You'll never grow old,
I wish you in my heart a happy reign,
Your story is now due and must be told.

NOTES
(1) link to "Ultimate Betrayal"
(2) link to "Week from Hell"
(3) link to "Big South Weather no.3"

Kamaki = harpoon (Greek slang: someone who "harpoons", catches women like fish, purely for the joy of sex).

pelegrino
pelegrino
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twelveoonetwelveoonealmost 10 years ago
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Terza Rima, you have no problems with rhyme, would add to forcing reader, also. it appears to be too stream of conscious, too erudite. You may also want to try a more orderly interspersion of global, with personal.