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"Leben ist das, was passiert, während du fleißig dabei bist, andere Pläne zu schmieden." John Lennon

Charles Bukowski - "Consummation of Grief"

Charles Bukowski
Zeichnung von Commonurbock23
Lizenz: GFDL via Wikimedia Commons

I even hear the mountains
the way they laugh
up and down their blue sides
and down in the water
the fish cry
and the water
is their tears.

I listen to the water
on nights I drink away
and the sadness becomes so great

I hear it in my clock
it becomes knobs upon my dresser
it becomes paper on the floor
it becomes a shoehorn
a laundry ticket
it becomes
cigarette smoke
climbing a chapel of dark vines...
it matters little
very little love is not so bad
or very little life
what counts
is waiting on walls

I was born for this

I was born to hustle roses down the avenues of the dead.

Charles Bukowski 16. August 1920 in Andernach als Heinrich Karl Bukowski; † 9. März 1994 in San Pedro (Los Angeles)

"Affirmation" by Assata Shakur

I believe in living.
I believe in the spectrum
of Beta days and Gamma people.
I believe in sunshine.

In windmills and waterfalls,
tricycles and rocking chairs.
And I believe that seeds grow into sprouts.
And sprouts grow into trees.

I believe in the magic of the hands.
And in the wisdom of the eyes.
I believe in rain and tears.
And in the blood of infinity.

I believe in life.
And I have seen the death parade
march through the torso of the earth,
sculpting mud bodies in its path.

I have seen the destruction of the daylight,
and seen bloodthirsty maggots
prayed to and saluted.

I have seen the kind become the blind
and the blind become the bind
in one easy lesson.
I have walked on cut glass.
I have eaten crow and blunder bread
and breathed the stench of indifference.

I have been locked by the lawless.
Handcuffed by the haters.
Gagged by the greedy.

And, if I know any thing at all,
it’s that a wall is just a wall
and nothing more at all.
It can be broken down.

I believe in living.
I believe in birth.
I believe in the sweat of love
and in the fire of truth.
 
And I believe that a lost ship,
steered by tired, seasick sailors,
can still be guided home
to port.

Assata Shakur. Black Liberation Army veteran, poet, liberator, and a woman committed to freedom.