THE RETURNING and other poems by Klaus J. Gerken (1978) I The Returning ~~~~~~~~~~ There is little here that anyone can count on you see the broken monuments and the crumbled pillars lying upon the parched ground the only thing that grows here are vines and some memories of half forgotten days shrouded in a type of mystery that no one can unravel over there by the pond now cracked and dry i used to walk on difficult days when it was best to be alone i was deep in thought but the bird song would somehow always get though and soothe me as if i were in a pleasant dream i enjoyed those days immensely they were my life a part of myself that has now grown old and left a weak lustre of indifference so why have i come here again after all these years through memories i can no longer say that i enjoy why indeed is it a need to be returning whence we came or is it just a self indulgence something that we crave because we can see no new horizons out there beyond the green oasis which somehow we have traveled far to touch and yet has stayed beyond our reach no need to go there now it has always been the vision we have for so long protected and now that it is within our reach we no longer crave that divine nectar we no longer crave anything but a kind of peacefulness within these tired bones and is that why i have come to reconcile myself to what my past has been to take one last look and understand why my life has been the way it was and where it meant to lead me once upon... 4 april 1978 II 1. It's the many poems i tried to write her that somehow i have always botched up when it came to thinking clearly and guiding my thoughts to form those verses that were meant to be but somehow were far beyond because i was so close so personally involved that i was like someone examining a great painting from too close a range to get a total view of the greatness of the work it is now many years later that i try attempting this again because i no longer believe myself involved what lingers on is only a memory of what we two shared 2. I should think that if i met you now upon the street or at a private party given by some mutual friend that i could face you with a better understanding why you acted as you did why you left without giving me a line knowing that i would make excuses and that i would try to make you stay without thinking of anything except of how my life would be empty once gain i would have made you feel guilty for being yourself and doing what you had to do and if i would have gotten you to stay you would eventually have hated me and i would have been perplexed to know the why - forgive me for that a blind man could have seen more clearly you left because the dream was coming to an end - a point i failed to see because the dream was sweeter than reality 3. So accept this megre offering i have for so long tried to find you but i was searching in the wrong places i searched the world for you when all i was really searching for was the past - a wise man once said that we must at one time or another leave the past behind - in other words we must all wake up whether we want to or not - the clear sky always catches up to us - i know how good it was it can't be so again and whatever truths we hold it's the secret of this togetherness we shared this chain i wore which so long ago you cut and left me to enslave myself the fool i was learning now with no more animosity - only a thank you for the moments shared and leave it at that for i know you'll smile and understand that we're more together now than we ever were before. 4 april 1978 -- for Marion Todd III I walked down the cold deserted street and found that somehow even though i didn't know i knew where i was going it was some kind of revelation that had a profound effect on me through it having no effect at all i found that i had always known where i was going i had always known i just didn't know that i had known i was too afraid to ask the question and i was too afraid to give the answer so i kept on walking i kept on walking till i got nowhere and this nowhere was the goal i found that we have all set for ourselves at some time or other in our lives so i got where i was going through the desertion of the fear of knowing i let myself be taken in it was a good feeling it was a feeling that made me feel as if this freedom that i felt had been the total fullness of the world the total fullness of everything abounding in this universe of life and of illusion I walked on down this road this dark deserted street and came upon myself unknowing of myself i looked a stranger in the eye and understood the stranger was myself... 5 Apr 1978 IV I have given myself many times to irrationality i have tried to fight against that but how does one fight against one's inclination how does one fight against one's self so i keep on writing as i have always done i keep on dreaming the dream i keep the hope alive that someday i will write that single poem that single thought that will conquer me and all the world that will form from these irrational works a truth that all will understand a mystic truth as clear as life itself it is not the nature of the rose that one admires but the beauty of the rose itself it is not the truth alone that inspires confidence but the act of speaking it... 5 april 1978 V Song ~~~~ It was sometime ago in a memory somewhere When I saw you again I guess it was fair There was you and then I and the times we both shared There was love and the joy and we really did care When you needed me love you called When you needed me love you called And I came The time somehow passed as we drifted apart There were reasons a-plenty but not in our hearts We were reaching for something that both did not know It was then that we parted - separate ways we did go Refr. It's the drifting through time without reaching our goal I think of you often when the nights are so cold And the room we made love in I've been there again It's an old empty hotel - just a shell of remains Refr. Now we are here again like strangers appear Now words do we say - Is it joy or just fear We both try to smile but it's time we went on Our lives are now parted - still the past lingers on Refr. 8 April 1978 VI Come drink the wine - it might be good still to overshadow the alienation of defeat before everything succumbs to the plastic parasitic will of computers and machines that repeat every will without the satisfaction that we feel when we ourselves have conquered - and the feat remains with us in the triumph that we steal from others who would in the end have beaten us It's the instinct for survival that collects our mean and keeps us hunters 'stead of those are hunted - thus it's here we stand controlled by what we made to help us gain the leisure that will finally rust us to the ground - and forced to take the spade and slowly dig our own poor grave - that's the deed so drink the wine and hide beneath a poplar's shade it's better to be drunk than sober when the seed of what we made grown to fruition and slaughter us with our own greed. 9 April 1978 VII It's the act of being honest Not the truth that will impress. 15 April 1978 VIII All bundled up and shivering in the cold I just have to force myself to keep busy From thinking about it. It's bad enough That I can't concentrate on anything that's Worth a damn. I tried to read the rest of the Life of Fabius Maximus by Plutarch But the words just seem to float upon the page And it takes too much energy to gather them The only thing that might work are the Satires Of Horace. There's enough spite and viciousness In them might make it worth the while. Anyway I've decided against reading and found that Pounding these typewriter keys seems to be At the moment very good therapy. Not that What I'm writing will be worth the trouble to Read. With my throat burning like it is I can't think of anything but getting my hands On a cold bottle of white Tuscan wine But that won't help. I'll probably Make things even worse. So I pop a few pills Keep myself bundled up and hope for the best. Tomorrow at noon I've got an appointment At the unemployment office, something I'm Not exactly looking forward to. They always Call you at such an inopportune time. Like Just when you're in the middle of a good book Or even writing a poem or two which they in any Event don't think is important enough to Consider as work. But I'll have to try and Straighten them out somewhat. Maybe get them To send me back to school to get a better "Education". In other words to stop being a poet And get an honest to goodness working man's job. But that's not important today. First I've got to Grapple with these parasites that so graciously Have invaded my body. I hope they're having The time of their lives because I'm not. Yesterday When I caught this bug it was the first real Day of spring. Warm and bright and marvelously Calm and quiet. I guess it went to my head and I Went out without putting on a jacket. That's what Must have done it. I suppose that like the Thorns on the rose there's a bad side to everything. Well at least there's one consolation: the weather's Bad today so I've no inclination whatsoever To go out. I'll listen to some tapes and records. Write a few insignificant poems and get well again. Wouldn't do to miss an appointment with the Government now would it. Sure it would. 17 April 1978 IX Song Days they come and go Like the rive flows Through the trough of time and on Through eternity I've seen you many times And like a poem rhymes Our eyes they met and we both knew Our paths will cross again Through time the wheel of life Prepares for us to meet Each time we understand the role We each must e'er repeat Bm - Am - G Bm - Am - G C - D - G - C G - D - G 24 April 1978 X It must have been a great day When Marcellus stood upon The ramparts of defeated Syracuse And saw those great mechanical monsters That had almost defeated him I can almost see it now (and if I Were a man of paints I might Portray the scene on canvas but As is these words they must suffice) Under the hot sun how they Led him up towards the walls And when he saw those great machines Those that Archimedes threw away As side-kicks to his trade - At first I'd think that he's not say a word That only he would gasp at the Accomplishment that any mortal man Could find it deep with his soul To so create a form as this that might Become the greatest weapon on this earth And not to understand or even bother with That it might change the face of man But Archimedes understood - he Understood too well - machines of war Just like the government that uses them Are simply transient - they change With time - but the facts that he Was working on - the fine calculations Of the arts - Geometry, Mathematics All the like would live forever - these The laws of Nature's Spiraled Universe So painstakingly discovered - these would Form the final judgment of mankind And not those toys man uses for his evil greed... 26 Apr 78 XI I sit quietly in my yard drinking wine And read my book on Roman history The sun is shining brightly and there is a Soft and not too cool breeze coming From the north west which makes the warm Weather that much more pleasant I am very contented The wine is cold And green and soft and sparkles in the sun The book takes me far away through time I read about the day Marcellus conquered Syracuse and what it must have been like When he was brought for to see for himself Those giant machines of war that had Almost defeated him I wonder if it was A day like this I picture the scene In my mind I close my eyes The sun is Very warm upon my face Yes I tell myself It must have been a day like this At this moment I refuse to comprehend Another I drink my fine and clear Pasmados What more can a man want What more is there Within nature to tempt him What more Is there to make his life completed? 26 April 1978 XII 1. It must be a great day when nothing happens When everything turn out the way it should... 2. The brighter shines the sun The brighter glows my soul. 3. I've thought about Writing a poem So much that I have Finally decided It's not worth the bother writing down. 28 April 78 XIII MISERY WALTZ So I'm watching TV here without you In this half empty bar here downtown There are bar fights and women But I ain't getting' in 'em I'm just tryin' to look like a clown I pawned my last wintario ticket For a drink I just don't want to drink The beer is quite stale here It's good as a failure And even an iceberg must sink I get up to phone you But I ain't got a dime I ask for a handout They tell me the time O misery misery why Have you done this to me of all folks I tried to be kind But the shot from behind... Now there's no one to laugh at my jokes. C F - C F C G7 - C 29 April 78 XIV SEASONS Seasons We change like the Seasons Seasons What can be the Reasons Remember the years that we once lived together In an attic apartment through all kinds of weather I would write at my novel You would live in the kitchen There was little to eat so we pawned our possessions Ref. Remember the years how they slowly slipped by There were times that we laughed There were times that we cried When the novel was finished I sent it away When it came back rejected there was little to say Ref. We tried to make it work but it seemed just too hard You went back to your parents That's the last that I heard I went on with my writing - it seemed easier to starve When one's living alone - we all play our parts... Ref. 29 April 78 XV That's about it To really be able to do something To really be able to understand and find That goal you have so long waited for You must first Find yourself exhausted and completely ready to Give up everything You must be sick and tired of Trying for something that you want You must Give up And then it's that extra spark re-kindles The flame and flings you through that door That's been there open for so long that you Always believed closed Because it's the light That blinded you It's the light that you've been Seeking which you were closer to than you ever Realized before. 1 May 1978 XVI It's the song you've always wished to sing That song which you've always been haunted by You never knew where it came from That song Which drove you on to be a great singer Which Made you satisfied with yourself and your Accomplishments That same song when you finally Heard it clearly was such a disappointment That you wondered why it had inspired you In the first place - That song which created you You now tear down Knowing you have finally transcended it. 1 May 1978 XVII Plutarch through Brutus an honorable man but in truth Brutus was a fool He would have had the empire has he Waited But instead he thought the mob could rule itself He soon found out it wasn't so. 1 May 1978 XVIII It might take a great man to admit that he was wrong But it takes a greater man to admit that he is right When everybody else might think that he is wrong. 1 May 1978 XIX Hey lad bring me some more wine If you're going to get drunk I might as well be drinking too. 1 May 1978 XX We imitate the Romans Because we're still Barbarians. 1 May 1978 XXI Everybody has adventures they talk about My adventures are in the mind How many can say That they have rode with Caesar as he cross The Rubicon Or been with Sertonius as he Walked with his white doe through the ranks Of the Spanish Barbarians to keep them at bay I have been there I have felt the experience None can have such vivid remembrance Had they lived in those times themselves I am not a historian I am a person who feels true History itself It is as if I had been there As if there is no time between the then and now How can anyone say their life is complete Which out knowing what I know Without comprehending The complexity of that simple dream come true That dream that is reality through time Or space permeating everything that finally Becomes part of ourselves and is The heritage which guides us every day Whether we might know the truth of this or not. 1 May 1978 XXII She sends me a telegram telling me that she can't come She might as well have not sent me anything. 1 May 1978 XXIII This wine is quite sensitizing I don't feel a thing If I hadn't written this I would have never know. 1 May 1978 XXIV What was I doing ten years ago this day? Pray tell? But who the hell cares anyway? 1 May 1978 XXV O man I've been in this room when it started revolving I've been here when ghosts started walking in the front door And sitting down beside us I was luck I passed out But Randy began talking to a painting of a lady on the Wall that I had painted many years ago He said that she Talked back to him That they had had a very fine conversation I don't doubt that at all The next time I saw him he had Slept on a bench for two nights in a park and tried to figure out Just what was happening I met him a couple of weeks ago And he told me that he would from then on make it a habit Not to come over to my house without having enough money In his pocket to be able to take a taxi hoe To be Honest I didn't know it was that bad I always thought That he could hold his liquor I always though that he Could drink more than I could At least that's what he said. 1 May 1978 (for R.T.) XXVI What I don't do to write a poem I either starve or get drunk Well in any event it's better Than writing nothing at all A few weeks ago my wine merchant Told me that if I needed to write That I could come into his store At any time and work there I asked him if there was a bottle of wine In the deal He said that he Would try to arrange it At least I won't go dry A poet's got to try... 1 May 1978 XXVII It's just past ten p.m. It's good country music That I'm listening to I'm also quite drunk But that's nothing new When I'm sober I might write Philosophy But when I'm drunk My passions go awry And only poetry will do It's just past 10 p.m. I'm listening to some music It's a good atmosphere I wonder what it would be like If I were sober? 1 May 1978 XXVIII Not that I'm trying to write too much Other artists tear their works apart But at least other artists have a past I'm still trying to find mine... 1 May 1978 XXIX I once wrote a poem about Modigliani I left it a fragment Mainly because I couldn't understand The working of the humankind Now that I'm much older Now that I comprehend I could finish that poem But I won't A man's life should be his own His life should be his own true mystery The only one that he should own... 1 May 1978 XXX Song I met her near the Atlantic Ocean In your bare feet you walked on the beach You smiled then you said you were leaving Then you slowly walked out of my reach Is that any way to leave you lover Is that any way to treat your friend Is that any way to treat the man who supported you Is this now the way it all ends? I met you at the corner café It was either Paris or Marseilles You said it was nice while it lasted You said there's a new sun each day Refr. There were times that I didn't understand you There were times that we never did talk But we always were true to each other Or at least that's what I always thought Refr. I met you near the Pacific Ocean Whaps it Vancouver or 'frisco bay You said you were planning a trip around the world And on a fiberglass Ketch sailed away Refr. 2 May 1978 XXXI A certain elegance that no one hold As truth * why is this that which is what * why is everything this * why is this anything * a certain truth that no one hold as elegance * what is this which is that * what is this what is that * nothing nothing at all 2 may 1978 XXXII Year ago the poem was What it never could have been There was no pretension Although there was a mask Which totally obscured What the poem might have been As it was it wasn't that at all It was another thing It was a quiet revolution Gone awry It was the angry young man With nothing to be angry about It was the knowledge of talent Unable to be expressed Which frustrated the most Years ago the poem was What it never could have been Today it simply is What it never was Truth will box our ears And by the time we're ready to listen We've gone deaf. 3 May 1978 XXXIII They talk of truth as if they knew what it was To speak the truth one must need certainty Certainty is the cornerstone of truth Without certainty there can be no truth "a priori" exists only through the benefit of an "a posteriori" insignificance 5 May 1978 XXXIV Could it really be That nothing is ever Worth the effort We put into it? 5 May 1978 XXXV yoric speaks in whispers but doesn't exactly know what he said the day was right the time too poor he'll drink his fill for "ever more" that poem great he thinks about and then he thinks but what's the use to understand it's just not fair now if insane that's different yet to understand he's just forget. 11 May 78 - downtown XXXVI Heaven and Hell And the fool between * 25 June 1967 all you need is love * like everything else the fleeting history of the world * 14 May 78 XXXVII Everything and nothing Not exactly as it should be Not exactly like anything else Drunk on two bottle of wine You've never tasted before They say it's the experience That counts They also say that Those who win the war Live the longest 15 May 1978 XXXVIII Oh god how many things there are in my mind Right at this moment that I would like to Spit out But what use would that be To break Someone just because you feel broken too To better yourself you must know that you Are better than they are You must know you limitations 15 May 78 XXXIX Drank two bottles of wine tonight Don't feel drunk at all Just feel out of it I can at least Tip my hat to Catullus At least he waited until He was sober To write another poem I wait until I'm drunk It makes an interesting Compromise Comparison... 15 May 1978 XL Years ago I used to worry About not writing For any period longer Than a week Now I just consider it a rest I falsify my own request To understand The stark complexity Of an author's dilemma I know the brain needs rest I understand a man gets tires Of the same thing Every day. 15 May 1978 XLI Those who commit suicide will have understood And those who don't will still be searching... 15 May 1978 XLII I wish I were drunk At least I wouldn't have to face This difficult reality Knowing full well every day It's facing me. 17 May 1978 XLIII It's just enough to fuse the understanding With the loss of words But if you really knew the meaning Would you need the words Or if you knew the words Would you need the understanding Each man's ignorance might be his golden moment Each man's understanding just might be his curse... 22 May 1978 XLIV I told you that I needed you It was the wring number I called for company It was the wrong address I sent a letter to The person at the other end of the wrong number hung up The letter was returned If I were V. Vann Goth I would sacrifice an ear I would even suffer silence For the knowledge that you think of me One day I told you that I needed you It was the same day you did not notice me It was the same day I committed life And you visited an unknown grave. 22 May 1978 XLV Just wrote a complete poem Without a sheet of paper In this blasted Smith Corona Perhaps that was it The perfect poem I had always meant to write 22 May 1978 XLVI When dancing with a skunk Makes sure you're very very drunk. 22 May 1978 XLVII Each within our separate realities Nurturing our separate insanities... 17 May 1978 XLVIII It's late at night Outside it is raining Sometimes very hard And sometimes not at all I am staring at the wall I am lost within myself Lost within the universe Is it really all so difficult Outside it is raining Inside it is too Inside it is too 17 May 1978 XLIX Life's a hockey game While we might think we are the players In reality we're pucks. 19 May 1978 L Quite the thing And not the thing Not anything This is the voice of the passion This is the crucifixion The fiction Of the western word The western half of the planet The Greco-Roman "civilized" Adultery Those examples Those for which we look Those on which we base Our own realities Our own fictions Yes It is quite the thing To hold in reverence The beginning without Knowing the end For almost Three thousand years We've been slaves To our "democracy" And that really is the thing No slavery without freedom No freedom without slavery Like insanity blurting out Profanity And something we Just haven't realized We seem profound because we're stupid Because if we really Were profound We wound have to worry About the realization Of this truth For whatever truth we know Is not the right truth Like someone who has lost the right path On his way back home. 20 May 1978 LI I'm quite bemused at finding out Which poems are good and which are bad And then begin to like The bad I hate and hate the good. 20 May 1978 LII Drink diluted wine on a hot day like this lad It will make you sweat less and also give you Less of a headache in the morning. 20 May 1978 LIII SONG It's never too late It's never too late It's never to late That's what you said I should have known when you came In a separate carriage You said it was lame Just another marriage Refr. Where togetherness falls Apart 'tween two walls It's the lost open door We've been long searching for Refr. Well the carrousel makes It's own kind of rounds There's the circus of life We're not even the clowns Refr. There was laughter and joy Then the party went wild Through the drunken exam E'en the sun never smiled Refr. There were times you would come To the beat of a drum I would mention I love... You asked me how come Refr. Now it's you that I see In a black wedding gown In a world by chagall Will you ever come down Refr. 22 May 1978 LIV Holding on - Sometimes it's hard to do Often we attempt but fail to move Perhaps this time - all I can do Each single moment and each precious day Seen in retrospect - there's always a high price to pay. 22 May 1978 LV ON BEING INVITED OUT TO WATCH A FIREWORKS DISPLAY Was invited out today Decided not to go The fireworks will do without me I'd rather write these poems At least they'll last much longer And have the same effect. 22 May 1978 LVI DISCOURAGED LOVER TO HIS LOVE I used to understand it but now it's just the same AS any other thing that drives a man insane You told me that you loved me but then you went away And now I sit here lonely what else is there to say I try to write this standing with both my ears plugged up I really cannot hear a thing so would you please shut up I know it's all too crazy don't waste another thought It's like those things are stolen they always can be bought So when you get a minute and turn your thoughts to me That which we had it wasn't bad just total misery. 27 May 1978 LVII It might just be a poem that no one reads That's the best you ever wrote Or then again it might not be It might be just a quote That they might think was yours alone But one you never wrote. 27 May 1978 LVIII It might be just a tragedy That's played for laughs right now And the mask the actor wears Might really be his face. 27 May 1978 LIX If you really listen hard enough There's silence where there's noise... 27 May 1978 LX SONG Saw her again Just yesterday Saw her again Didn't know what to say She looked at me Then you could see That she felt something Something for me Am - G Am - G C - Em - Am G Am - G Both of us stood there For a minute or more No words were spoken The silence felt sore I think of you often I wanted to say But now words were spoken It's always the same The light changed its colour She walked cross the street I wanted to follow She went there to meet Another new lover With whom she'd repeat The same scene all over Her only defeat 29 May 1978 LXI SONG There's truth in the knowledge we're yearning There's time for reflection and learning There's much more to life than for earning The money to keep our pride burning Trying to hold on till we're under It's worry that drags us asunder So don't be afraid of the thunder It hurts even more when you blunder We all want the same thing that others Might want in a quite different way Our paths they might cross but it's different Somehow it's always the same So listen to me don't you worry The wheel of our lives is in motion Where it will stop's our promotion There's nothing to claim but our fortune. Em - Am G - C/G - D Am - G C - G - Am 29 May 78 LXII The drunker I get the less I like this wine I don't know if that says something about the wine Or about me - either way it's just something To say because right now I've little more to say Than when I have no thought at all All the more reason to write - or scribble All the more reason to expose the mess Of words and clear the air (Pause) well that's it what else did you expect a poem to inspire you not from me go rot in a clover field if you want that 31 May 1978 LXIII I'm gonna try and write a song And if that doesn't work Then I'll write another one Just to show I won't give up It isn't news But at least My tenacity's in tact 31 May 1978 LXIV Everything I write is humorous Even this. 31 May 1978 LXV There's not one poem that I want to write That I actually write It's an involuntary shotgun process If it were any different I would write a thing 3 June 1978 LXVI My door always opens by itself The shadow stays inside 3 June 1978 LXVII There are so many damned poems that are the same It's hardly worth the effort writing them There are so many days that are the same... 3 June 1978 LXVIII Pain The pain is greater than the pain Pain Mental anguish Fright Terror The deeper it gets into us The clearer we see By then too late 4 June 1978 LXIX The wind is So calm That one can Almost Hear it Breathe 8 June 1978 LXX Is this a perfect poem? Betcha it is. 8 June 1978 LXXI Man it certainly is like it should be In fact reality isn't what I ever thought It would be - every dream shattered Every hope an illusion - and yet looking out the window each new morning - each new spring... 8 June 1978 LXXII YORIC It may have been a start But if it wasn't Who was there to tell It is all for us Who have cheated at one time Or another Which in the long run Might truly be the Purpose of life CERIBALDI Mozart certainly Never cheated Y Of course he did C He did not Y He did so C And how would you Know Y Quite simple C Well Y I don't know You asked the question C Just as I thought Y Oh shut up You thought nothing In fact I would be Very surprised If there were any thoughts Whatsoever In this continuum C That's your opinion Y Oh no not mine It's the opinion Of the unobserved Timelessness Of time C That doesn't Make any sense Y Was it supposed to C I don't know It's your statement Y A very astute Observation C Thank you Y You're welcome But if you really Want to understand It will be so much Simpler not to know Anything C How is that Y I'll get there C (mumbling) Sure you will Y There are certain Points that are not Collectable C I don't understand Y You don't understand Anything just listen It is certain that One can see the four Walls of a room break Apart in a shadow play This is the separation That Leonardo understood So well it is the whole Nature of the universe To reveal itself in Very obvious and visible Shadows but we as ignorant As we have always been Search for the light Within the darkness Instead we should be Searching for the darkness There within the light C And what happens then Y Nothing that is just the Point nothing happens It's not supposed to C I would rather play me Cello somewhere in the Mountains at least the Echoes make sense to me Y Ah the echoes yes they Certainly would make sense To you after all We do look in the mirror Every now and then Although in the mirror All we ever see is a false Image of ourselves And that ultimate Delusion is the reality We are after C I really don't think that Life is that bad Y (Perplexed) Life that bad of course It isn't all that bad But one must have a reason To further one's belief in Psychosomatic experience You may think that it is Just the knowledge of knowing That which we believe as The truth of all things That we have so far did- Covered but it's not that Way at all no not that way At all C Then why worry about it Y Who's worried about Anything which I mean don't You think that this rather Second rate movie We call life just happens To be the reality we've All been waiting for I mean listen if there Were no other reality Then how do you think We got here we certainly aren't Capable of generating Ourselves not here certainly Must be another dimension Like a fifth side to a Rectangle but with our Logic that would make it Five sided illogical Which is about as perfectly Sane as insanity itself Neither is the true path Of salvation but then Neither is salvation itself C What are you babbling about Y I am talking about skulls If you really are too naive To understand the last Statement of Wittgenstein's Tractatus it's really the Most perfect part of any work that's why it is so much Admired although those idiots Who profess to understand it Don't themselves really Understand anything Even Wittgenstein didn't Know even he tried to work out A different reality than he Himself professed C Wittgenstein was a prophet Y If I were capable of laughter This would be the place where I wd Laugh but as I am not It really isn't worth the Effort I'd rather get drunk With a couple of perfectly Inane memories of my youth And that is getting pretty far Off the beaten track C And why is that he taught Us the true meaning of Equations even Russell Has acknowledged that Y Russell was a pacifist What would he know The world is built on the Principles of heraclitus And even he didn't know Half the meaning of what He professed to know Archimedes at least was stupid enough to be dedicated to his work C Yes so much that the Romans slaughtered him Y Yes well the Romans were as Stupid as the barbarians who Ended up imitating them C Surely you don't mean that Y Of course I mean that How else could I say it in the Same breath that everything That is the truth is also a lie Just as the non-colour black Is not contained in the Colour white but is contained In the colour black as Anything else that will be That will be remembered in the World of uncertainties I mean yes that's what I mean I mean the truth That is contained in lies And the lies that are Contained within the truth In the ultimate concatenation Of a law degree C You are not Getting through to me Y Don't you think that I Know that don't you think That I would rather be drunk Than talking to you Don't you think that I would Rather not make the effort To teach you the reason Behind this poppycock There's a lot of things That I would rather do Like for instance watch Jeanne Moreau in Eve That film had a lot of Jealousy there are a lot of Other things too of course But I just don't think that It's worth the effort to Kill a few brain cells over C On the contrary brain cells Are only killed of if one Either drinks too much or Makes no effort to use them Y That my dear sir is a perfect Summation of the ape man child Coming to grips with the Ultimate unreality of make belief Don't damn well think that I've Read those articles too Of course I have but I'm not Going to torture my mind with A lot of inconsequentials Except maybe for a little comic Relief Man reacts to his Immediate requirements anything Else will be skewed nerves Oh the hell why am I talking To you another character From another book if I had My way I'd tear the book apart And write one on the insanity Of sanity That is if I had my choice Which naturally enough I don't Through the ignorance that I myself have been subject to since the moment of my rebirth C I think you are completely Insane Y Ah finally you are getting The Schick Finally you have seen The darkness that I spoke about Finally you have realized That no one can understand Anything finally you have Understood by not understanding And still remain as ignorant As ever 8 June 1978 LXXII To write a sonnet one must needs Have the reason to be generous And at the same time restrictive One must understand the nature That breaks a man apart and that Which puts him back together again So that each thought he must Form will be a thought that is As complete as he can make it To be able to concentrate everything Into a form which lends itself To no elasticity whatsoever A form that is as clear cut as is The past from which it was created. 8 June 1978 Copyright (c) 1978/2002 Klaus J. Gerken