ever present before my eyes
barriers to conduct
quant à conduire, on n’arrive à rien
I am driven by barriers
glimpsing life peripheral
life felt as a lack
a dull ache in the marrow
something invisible, indefinable
missing from this whip-driven
construct in which I am conducted
never present but always
elsewhere always lacking
flowers and clouds are fine in passing
but patient surveillance fails
to meet the bar of titillation
so easily classified, photographized
competing with an easy stream
the flowers of the world
behind a screen
I live a life without flowers
without imagination or fulfilment
devoid of any purpose but another’s profit
I raise the flowers of my will
my dreams, raison d’être
and one by one they wilt away
dreams and epiphanies become delusions
for those enclosed in barriers
barriers invisible as constructs
barbed wire that tears at your soul
as reaching out for a dream
you are torn between cultures
torn between tradition and prejudice
in the invisible no man’s land
between penury and privilege
