Monday, March 17, 2014

Moving On with clenched fist and perhaps a bit of hope

Emil Nolde.
"The Prophet"

I kept my cool this day
and it was not easy on St.Padric's day
No, indeed it was not
I had had a bellyful of lies already
the last one was worst than the first
do not put the words of the snitch into my mouth
I did not say them
come to me honestly and put some truth in there
if it is still in you
I might still talk to you
as it was I fought off the itch in my fist
and the holler in my soul

No longer will I be your hourly slave to dismiss
as the wind is too cold for you to bear
neither will I wear your colors
no, I remain here a fortnight for those fellows I have fought alongside
you sir can go suck up to some boss somewhere up the food chain
your predicament is no cause of mine
neither will I aid you in any way
what you have made is your own

but you never saw it
never saw it coming did you?
loud cursing I heard but not in my ears
have they come to roost for you?
those birds of carrion

what comes after I am gone is not for me to concern myself with
I will keep working as I did before
from the very first day I set foot on the property
I'll leave with better than I was given
because I earned it
and it wasn't yours to keep from me

the words may come back to you some day
if the sleep escapes you this night
it will find me in a few minutes
for the adrenaline has worn away
john barleycorn has done his job well
even if we did throw clods upon his head
he pushed them back and struggled up
waving in the wind, shining and shimmering in the sun

fare thee well my fellows
hale and hardy I pass by as a ghost in your midst
not long for this place said the short timer
glad tidings and will you someday some time
I might call you
give me your number and your name
for I go on from here
what you make of it all
that is up to you

in the shaking of my self
i kept the words in my head
when the last lie was worse than the first
quivering in anger I kept working
it was fight or flight
and I kept my head down and did not look him in the eye
or else all hell might break loose
professional demeanor, salute the uniform and not the man
if he tells me he is tired of hearing my voice
or seeing my face
I will be glad to go on from there
but there is so much to do
and we are so far behind
I don't think he has a choice in the matter