POETRY - LOVE UNDERCOVER
Love Undercover
Love is working undercover
no one has a lover.
Love is working undercover
as the State declares war...
keeps the score
on dissident love.
Love is working undercover
for the sake of fear
but fear’s not a cause
célèbre, patriots of the dead.
Love working undercover
is over-rated
outdated and
why hide love for the sake of fear?
Love was working undercover
it’s time to stop this hideaway tryst
of adoration camouflaged
from the public eye
(And I said, it’s time to take a stand
and bring their hate to an end.)
Jack and I argued or, let’s tell it slant...
I argued with my lover
why hide a love that matters?
Why care for what the Press Gangs say?
The lies, the shame, the blame...game.
But...
Political Malcontent
Jack was careful not to let the Press know what was going on between us; mostly for fear of what it would mean to me. He didn’t care what the State Press or Media thought of him; their toxic poet, their political dissident. No, not dissident, for they wouldn’t want him to have a badge of honour and so it was political ‘malcontent’. The one who saw too far around the curve and knew what was coming. Namely, the Body Politic laying bleeding in the gutter. The goosestep stutter, as he called it.
Corpocrats
When the Corpocrats came along, they fashioned control from freedom, despotism from democracy. He said this wasn’t a new phenomenon, but an historical matter where/when/because democracy is prone to extremist swings of opinion, especially when the system is failing and the excesses of affluence and influence creates friction with those who experience only indigence and impotence.
In the end, it didn’t matter, as the Paparazzi photographed us at the Shots Café, in Chelsea.
This was all a matter of getting to know one another; through the twists and turns of being in the public eye. I went from being ‘Sexy Shula has a Jack on Ice’ to ‘Shula: Princess Predator’.
All the while, Jack stood with me and helped me through my own dark night of the soul. It was a territory that he was familiar with, as he’d passed through it on a number of occasions; he was no stranger to darkness.
Life as a Delusion
Whether or not you are rich or poor, as Søren has written, ‘if we do not know ourselves, in the deepest sense, our life is a delusion’.
Jack and I know ourselves well enough, to see the delusions of ‘self’ all around us. We have self-knowledge in the light of the Divine; the scales have fallen from our eyes and we can see the delusions and mythic pretensions created by the State. For everywhere, it’s hand can be seen; in manipulation, not just of social order, but also of humanity. So much so, that a rousing “We do not Consent!” resounds around the Quads of Bristol and the Bistros of Chelsea. Resistance begins in the heart, not with the fist.
Those who do not know themselves, cannot see the grand delusion; the control, the management of consent, the lying and scheming. They believe the constancy of this State means that the status quo is virtuous, all is well with my soul means nothing more than the delusion is not just a material force, but a spiritual one; save that it is the spirit of death. For the status quo only ends in atrophy; control is the daughter of degeneration.
Love no longer works undercover
we have no need of camouflage.
This is how, my dear Søren, we
‘express the sublime...in the pedestrian’.
Shula
