Bruegel

 

 

      

The Misanthrope

 

 

By M.D. Ward

 

 

 

Yes it’s sweet to fall asleep in the middle of a nightmare and wake up in
a dream. the whole world faded into oblivion and he began his real
life. It had to be this way. It seemed he had no choice. Born among
the billlions of pawns in this world he knew what it was to be hungry
and used and scared. He knew his voice would never be heard or mean
anything to anybody. And so he led his secret life of dreams and slept
away all the pain and humiliation of his existence. He once overheard
an old ex con describe him as " the only guy I ever saw do time on the
outside".


Like the misanthrope said " I know nothing means nothing nohow anyway"
Stop striving while you’re dying. It's in the old Testament. Man is
nothing but a plant with legs. In this dog eat dog universe not even
the gods are safe. Millions devour the last one every day and drink his
blood. It don't mean a thing. Clustered like grapes of wrath in a blood
soaked vineyard and the drums are rumbling and the horns are blaring and
I am laying in the cut waiting for the hoopla to subside. I remain and I
abide in the middle of this mad farce and I Wonder. M.


So much time had been spent in his life avoiding it. Avoiding a world
that made him sick in spirit and soul. A rubber room without walls. A
global madhouse where chaos and confusion reigned like mad gods on
thrones of blood and greed. It didn't start off that way. There was a
time when he Believed in God and Country. He Believed in the inherent
goodness of Man. He Believed that All men were his Brothers or No man
was. Then came the Time of the Assassins. He was fourteen when the back
of JFK's head blew all his illusions away. Then the murder of the King
of Peace, Martin. And just for good measure, Bobby had to bite the dust.
One stab thru the heart after another. Then the body bags and the play
by play televised war complete with commercial interruptions. It was
about this time he figured he didn't want to be a part of it anymore.
That's when he concocted a plan. He would sleep his life away. He
would appear in the daylight only when the moon was blue to gather the
flowers of sleep and forgetfulness. Then it was back to bed to live a
life of dreams. He had turned his back on this cruel and stupid world.
While they labored and sweated and sold their souls in the marketplace.
He slept. There was a genius in this philosophy.




And all the kings pawns trumped up like the knights of the klu klux klan
Bloody white ghosts of America anemic of soul and heart parade their
filthy hate with Pride and Arrogance deadly with steady poisoning of
spirit and space their stench is overwhelming rotting in your face like
a billion ghouls and the dead soldiers of Iwo Jima and the corpses from
Viet Nam and all the goddamed godforsaken poor suckers that ever were
Maimed and Murdered by wars that they did'nt even understand until that
Moment.....That Moment.....When a bomb or a bullit made it so Clear to
them all. Nothing is worth your eyes....So many Blinded by War. I would
ask any one of the hundreds of thousands of men Blinded by War if it was
worth it??? I wonder if these heroes would Dare to tell the TRUTH! That
they had made a mortal mistake. That they had been
Hookwinked.....Literally. And now....It's worse then even the blind
could imagine. And the dead are glad to be dead and the living face of
hate waxes crosses in the land of the sheep and the home of the slaves.
Speak UP....If you Dare! The illusion of Free Speech is
still..."Believed". M.


When the other boot dropped he felt like he was clocked by a
sledgehammer. It was weeks before he could even put on his shoes
without weeping. he would sit there with one foot hooved in sock and
shoe and the other left dangling naked for an hour at a time and weep
like black rain. He wept because now he was Truly alone. He was as
alone as YOU. YOU. Born to what? A most interesting question. Born
for what? Impossible to tell. Except now....as the last sands slipped
thru his cracked hour glass he knew that nothing in the universe
mattered. Hope had up and died. Do YOU Know what Im saying? He had
lost the one thing that ever truly loved him. Just like....YOU. Just
like everybody. There was one who was true....True to the END. And now
that end has come. and in the sand and broken glass he stares into
space and waits with red eyes and one naked foot dangling over Hell.
For Hell is the Excruciating Loneliness of Death. M.


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