Thiopental

For the times are new

And the young are old,
One must remain cynical.
What is around us, what do we see?
What is it, life, which they call brief
And love which to all souls brings relief?
And if not, suffering and remorse
Sadness, loneliness and wounds to endorse
As ornaments, testament to some kind of beauty.
And in the ecstasy of bodies
What does one find?
Salvation, aspiration, truth made true.
In the ecstasy of bodies one finds proof
Of a capable eye, aloof.
For one day I may osculate your lips or another,
And another I may caress your hips or some other
Realms explored further, in order
To culminate at the end, go no further.
There is no further.
Do you understand?
The houses they built for us,
The rings they forged for us,
The costumes and the stockings,
The stocks and the mocking,
All in the name of?
And the earthen beds or silver jars they made for us,
With due indications in the highway,
All in the name of?
The boys and girls, tender, behave
In the name of?
Youth is unbearable,
Anew is unbearable,
Books are intolerable,
Paintings, songs, pieces, lyrics to a crush
Crushed memories of crushers,
Unbearable.
New ways, incidental affection, passing boundaries
Unbearable.
Who can love free of intentions, free of expectations
Free of legends, psychosis, fairy tales, and folly
In a World that nears its end?
Deceasing faults, faulty up to a point
Which is the point of no amend,
Where all riddles contain an answer in their makers,
Their makers, artisans of the riddled.

All art galleries would close upon the face of these times That they should display pictures of a world more known,
Of a freer world, of a happier world,
The shades be painted of suffering, let suffering be avoided
No one has to suffer,
No one.
No one has to suffer this.
Joo David Machado Pacheco, 25th of May 2014