Oz Blog News Commentary


March 20, 2017 - 14:54 -- Admin


I can no longer be outgoing,
I am retreating from the world,
Knowing its horrors
Forces me within
Are they outside or in?

The empathy that kills, kills
The love that loves does, too
The drunken haze of other days
Returns, without the drink
This is for you

That makes me think
Euripides was right
Not light, but night
Without end
Like a poem for a friend

The writing cures all,
Nothing is its thrall
Until the writing ends
Abrupt, corrupted,
The parties contend, within

The writing elevates
That deflated ball
But in success
The great ones fall
Down, down, down

Can you own the page?
Feel the wrath,
Embrace the rage
Against and for
Here is my door

And so the task renews
Inside, always inside,
While outside
The sun shines
On a dying world

I dare not venture out
I see your doubt
But take no more
The steps are broken
We remain awoken

To the nightmare
That is care
Wrapped in flags
Of destruction
We? Too few

The rest flew south
Where icebergs collide
Melted figures hide
In seas torment
That is what I meant

And so the page begins
Anew, impossible
Stuck on repeat
Not total defeat
It is warm inside

John Passant 20 March 2017