Poems of change

The poems of change…corner
For more poetry: maxheadroam

“in-e-quality”
By Max Horstink

From the robot the beggar and the artist
Walk the line for petty cash
Between angry cars and years of scars
When the lights turn from green to red
And his planes dangle from a stick
Recycling cans is his trick
And the beggar sweats in a blanket thick
As the windows stay put
Their heads turn in sync
Back towards the red barrier brink

“Treason in the Age of Why”
By Max Horstink

You are only human
You are 200,000 years old
You are now modern
or so I´ve been told

From the times of ancient Greece
through war-torn seasons
to societies in peace
you´ve committed treason

The treason of the sexes
The treason of the Church
Petty treason
For treason we search

The treason of the common
The treason of the skin
The treason of the mind
The treason within

The populist hands out
the Sakharov Prize
to the hero so stout
only after his demise

From the Age of Enlightenment
past the Civil Rights Act
through the Millennium Goals
back to hell and back

The violations of law
confine the Mothers to the Square
Anti-gay laws
in Russia beware.

Malala´s education
as the Untouchables sigh
The small farmer´s marginalisation
in the Age of Why

Can we break through
“l´histoire se répète”?
Could we breach that vicious circle
can we make that bet?

The poem above was made in contribution to Blog Action Day 2013. The theme that year was human rights.

Dudu The Son recorded “I am the plastic” as a song, listen to it here. The song is also available for purchase on iTunes.
“Change I”
By Max Horstink

You ask me to change
But what can I do?
You ask me to care
But can you see me through?
You say we squander the land
But I´m just a man
You say I don´t understand
But I do what I can

You say we heat the sky
And that’s a terrible sin
You say we need to try
To change from within

Yet I see the birds and the trees
Like they´ve always been here
I see the river change its course
Like ever before

The rain still comes down
Washing our sins away
The frost makes the sidewalk
As slippery as yesterday

So stand up and lead me
To your immaculate truth
No need to beat me
I long lost my youth


“Mountain of words”

By Max Horstink

Every day I die a little
Coming down from the mountain
Into the common plain
Every minute I wait for resurrection
A flicker in the iris
A touch of poetry
A sudden caress

Every while I live
Surrounded by words
However absurd
Lifting me up
And when the light breaks through
The sphere of my solitude
It is though I never left the summit

I don’t look down
Not for a second
I don’t wait for the climax
I watch the words
In all their colours
All their forms
I shout them out, I take them in

Until they vanish, slowly
One by one
Unnoticeable
Unregarded
Do they die a little too?
Or are they hidden in the mountain
I cannot find

 

For more poetry: maxheadroam