Bounderies and Borders ; - They protect or enslave us

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Commercial Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
a half crafted piece
lethargic writing - read it another time
sorry but it needs more work

Submitted: January 22, 2009

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Submitted: January 22, 2009



We all are always digging God dam borders ,
Between the neighbour and the self;
My patch of land from yours ;
Your crazy creed form mine ;

Drawing pricey borders in the cinema aisles ;
Between the gallery, and the stalls;
And in the aircraft ;
From where you get the caviar
And where you get the cramp

Boundaries in the intellect ;
Between who knows whose God best.
And who got most favours granted by his God
And who God likes the most.

Segregations of the chosen ones ;
Of who can choose
To select ; elect , appoint
And make themselves administrators;
From those who will ;
Be always unelected and administrated to.

To be a participant ,
Or a functionary of the state ,
In its army ; in its justice;
Part of its enforced apartheid policy
Or to be that party enforces ;

Always bloody borders to be dug
Between the enemy and the ally.
Bloody trenches across the muddied field.
Like the fields of folly;
In far off Flanders.

Borders dug for us slaves , by dot com giants
Bounders constructed by a separation wall
To deny communities to communicate
Because the , builders , not the people disagree.

Do these borders serve us or enslave us ?
Are we their masters , or their marionettes.?

Barriers of razor wire
Barricades of barbed wire

Edifices of grandly fashioned granite
Gentrified stone, to hide to detainee
And he with compound fractures of the mind

When they strive to readjust
The politically maladjusted ;
They are prisons -

And when they serve to heal
The fractured spirit
They are mental hospitals .
With grandiose and reassuring addresses

But often both are fortressed by barred windows
And with heavy double locked
And unyielding doors

Prisons , psychiatric hospitals;
Often ; side by side ;
They stand to house
The felon and the infirmed mind .

We build the fortress
Between reason and superstition,
Between the knowledge and the faith,
Between zealot with his belief
And agnostic who tried ,but has none .

Social class divisions
Between the educated of the mind .
And the elegantly knowing hands of craft.

But keys will open locks
And wire cutters cut the wire
And the chain ball knock down the prison wall.

But nothing but the will
Will unshackle the captive imagination.
Nothing but grace can set the will it free
And only mercy can pollinate and germinate that grace;
That lies dormant in us all.

Denied the truth ; incubated in a cask of propaganda
A perspective denied ;
Or , mummified not by time but by oligarchy;
Entombed ; Embalmed ;
And mummified in obfuscation.

The bars that sit between us ;
Like the bars of the lions cage in the circus.
They keep up from the lions jaw
But leave the lion tamer exposed

We watch the lithe creature in the circus tent
And maybe the girl on the trampoline will slip
And miss her safety net ;
That holds her life in its mesh.

So most of us are just spectators;
Voyeurs of this dual , half hoping
That before our eyes the lion will;
Claw and maul his tamer before our eyes
And the lithesome figure slip and plummet to her death

To navigate the ship between the shallow shale ;
And hulking rock rising from the swollen sea..
To see where the borders ought to really be
There lies wisdom and serenity.
But they’re different borders
Different boundaries
For both you and me .

© Copyright 2017 donkylemore. All rights reserved.

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