SHANTEVA

 

Have you ever seen a cellophane dance recklessly in a deep blue sky?

I throw a stone with my wildest inherent strength 

Aiming at the gods that dine and wine on the round table of the golden heavens

Just to cause them to pause and look down on a hungry boy who only knows how to dance

Dance like a cellophane

My mouth stays opened as I gaze into the blinding sun

As an obvious sign of thirst

Thirst for freedom

Maybe the piss from one of the drunk gods will trickle into my dry mouth

That I may understand the mysteries of the old world

 

The old world when we were gods

The world where our heads were adorned with butterflies

And our feet caressed by the clouds that are now far above us

What was the last thing we did in common before our banishment from the golden heavens?

Oh I heard we drank from the golden cup of the things that are to be

A forbidden quest

War broke out in the golden heavens and my ancestors were defeated

And banished

Or was it an intentional decision to surrender?

To experience the things that are to be?

Damn you bloody ancestors!

I shut my mouth and gnash my teeth

And I piss on the ground beneath me

For if there would be no sign from the high golden heavens

I shall give a sign to a lower version of myself that dwells beneath the brown soil that I stand

 

I am equally a god

Perhaps a fallen one

But one nonetheless

With an ancestral baton of wisdom and freedom

To pass onto the next generation of gods

A time will come when the gods of the high golden heavens will look down on us with envy

For our glory shall sing more melodious tunes.

In this plain, we are gods who have being taught to tone down our madness

But the most powerful of gods here are those that have mastered the art of tumbling in and out of their madness

The less powerful gods might never understand 

YES

There are two things I have established

All of us are gods 

And

All of us are mad