lady, slave

The lady, slave, would share
Those secrets in her shrouded breast
That we would learn the same as we yearn
For information, and all the rest,

But, oh! To see her naked with unclasped hair,
And to burn as we look upon her everywhere,
Those secrets, that we would, like poems, memorize well,
If we could but hear them; but no more of that, for she will never tell.

She owns a double pride: pride at being a lady
And a second, greater pride, because, plainly, she is a slave,
Slave to everything, love, moment, whim, and pride
Because she is a lady and bright! shining through the shady
Realms of haughty secrecy where all is hidden,
Like the midnights when this lovely slave must do as she is bidden,
For in that folly all live as lady or as slave,
Dressed, shining above, or plucking gems deep in the cave
Where none can see us, and how we writhe
In the hell of labor for others, feeding them who are alive.
We must die for their liberty, their liberty is the law
That shames us, a lady, mistaken for a slave,
And so one pride hides within the other
And we have bosses only, and never a true lover.

Speak not of heaven’s hopes! or fears that live in Hades;
We are all ladies and slaves.
Vanities and vices cover a world that no one saves;
Slaves, all! and all, once, beautiful ladies.


1 Comment

  1. January 19, 2011 at 3:25 am

    God is a concept,
    By which we can measure,
    Our pain,
    I’ll say it again,
    God is a concept,
    By which we can measure,
    Our pain,
    I don’t believe in magic,
    I don’t believe in I-ching,
    I don’t believe in bible,
    I don’t believe in tarot,
    I don’t believe in Hitler,
    I don’t believe in Jesus,
    I don’t believe in Kennedy,
    I don’t believe in Buddha,
    I don’t believe in mantra,
    I don’t believe in Gita,
    I don’t believe in yoga,
    I don’t believe in kings,
    I don’t believe in Elvis,
    I don’t believe in Zimmerman,
    I don’t believe in Beatles,
    I just believe in me,
    Yoko and me,
    And that’s reality.
    The dream is over,
    What can I say?

    The dream is over,
    I was dreamweaver,
    But now I’m reborn,
    I was the walrus,
    But now I’m John,
    And so dear friends,
    You just have to carry on,
    The dream is over.

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