They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.
But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.
Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
On these pages you might find poetry, opinion and perspective.
Into the dialectic is a reflection on the curious and contradictory nature of life, love, behaviour and consciousness on earth:
In Atlantis - W.H.Auden says
... And honour the fate you are, Travelling and tormented, Dialectic and bizarre.my self-portrait "mother earth" echoes
... And I am falling now, falling through the font, swimming into Being into the dialectic, the mythical, exquisite, life of EarthThis is an open enquiry into the divine madness of life on earth. I welcome your comment and opinion. [I only have one fan at the moment - my mum, and she's dead, but still connected via the aethernet I bet] But, hey, you might find some sort of inspiration or entertainment here somewhere. Check it out, let me know what you think. May peace prevail. Nik Spitz
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