English

I need an inspiration,

and therefore I need to whip myself with the burden of life

which I usually pack in a rucksack

weighing and dangling heavily on my beck.

It could explain why the phrase “don´t be so hard on yourself”

has so many times pitched my wistful face.

The heavy bag splashing with puddles of sweat and tears

drips and leaks down on my legs, thighs, crotch, calves, ankles and my toes of

endeavouring and venturing to reach perfection.

But you know...

People, we pathetic molecules of excrements and fluids and atoms

held together by breathing skin and muscular layer

want to believe in imperfection of being on this World

to justify our so far unidentified stupidity

and mistakes repeatedly made

out of spite, fun, boredom or lack of intelligent thought?

Imperfection you are born out of and

imperfection you embrace with your shrunk fingers

when you occur to be at death´s door.

Fingers whose nails are twisted into waving shapes of a black hardship

stabbed with a fork´s blunt tips leaving behind

dots of fleeting happiness and stripes of majestic memories.

Fingers whose cushions have toughened into diamonds of wisdom

that used to touch unnameable parts

of the Earth´s abundant presence of objects of all kinds.

And you die into the darkness of perfection

because you force yourself into believing that such thing as afterlife

cannot be as hellish as Jesus Christ´s torture

on a cross of our earthly toiling.

“Such is life” is a proverb once uttered by a bright mind

who saw through the invisible and yet so visible basis of life´s countenance and

looked through a peep hole of the door

leading to the Other Side

whose nature is sung in a melodic line

winding up and down Anthony´s Adam ´s apple

leading the guitar´s tabs manipulated by his chaps

squeezed into Red hot chilli peppers´ abbreviation RHCHP.

It´s high time we vicious spirits braced ourselves and grit our teeth

to be able to stand up to getting crippled

by grappling with our fate of flawed gaps

 in our existential state, unanswered questions and insoluble equations

which are instantaneously erased once solved

by the brain of Stephen Hawking´s bump.

Imperfection beats perfection and

 your pretension of perfection suffocates in your imperfection!