Er bricht meine Rippe

I ask myself
If I have the words written on my heart
Like those written on pages by reiner rilke
Letztens ist die Frage selbst eine Antwort
In dessen sich Frieden nie finden kann.
(Lastly, is the question an answer itself
in which peace can never be found)
Words are hard to make sound beautiful
And bother you like spinning webs of
spawning trees
In which you try to find beauty
But get caught up in yourself.
Was ist wenn Schoenheit nicht in der Natur liegt
Sondern im Zerstoerung dessen durch
Das Leben unser Menschehit
(What if beauty is not in nature
but the in destruction of it
by the life of our humanity)
Because man is man
We walk pittfully lonely
In shells of nautilus
Round in our own spiral
Und Spiralen der Vergangenheit
Verschweigen die Suende als Ursprung
Unseres Dasein, und die Worte unsere Poesie
(and spirals of the past
do not reveal the sins as the origion
of our existence and the words of our poetry)
We can touch these plastic souls
Poke them on sticks
And melt them like marshmellow roasts
Over our fires of ignorance
And everyone laughs, because the heat feels good
And believes our uniqueness comes from the mold we are all made of
And everyone loves the smell of the shit we fuel our furnaces with
The shit of tv sitcoms, cars and Paris Hilton
The shit of the lost soul in the reflection of beauty magazines
And our gaping mouths shining a hygene brighter than the altars of European church gold
With the Volume of our vocal chords strumming over the quiet whisper of agony of our blindness
To all these, to all these complexes
To all these, to all these beautiful hoaxes
Wie sind unsere Rechte als Menschheit
verschweigt wurden
Wer hat uns verloren
in unsere Gas Kammern
Wem machen wir die Schuld recht?
(how were our rights as a humanity
silenced from us
who lost us
in the gas chambers
whom do we do justice be their injustice?)
Pin it on your pale body (whose colour is in the mirror reflection of blindness)
Pin it on your education and the teacher who looked you up the skirt
Pin it on dad and mom, saying they love you
And divorce night and day
Pin it on the dartboard
No matter how many times – the bulls eye is no dead center
But behind your own sternum
And mind that your bones are just calcium atoms
Atoms are atoms, as Adam and the adam’s apple, the forbidden apple
All one inanimate sphere of electrons, protons and neutrons
Some cursed with a breath, some privileged to be lifeless
Where can we find a line for us to make beauty in all of it
I guess it just isn’t happening
I guess it just isn’t writing in the lines of history
A thing of mere scientific conception
Looking at the past through a magnifying glass
When you look at your ugly stubbly self
This is fucked up
Fucked up

And Jesus won’t walk away from me
Er bricht meine Rippe
(he breaks my rib)
He won’t walk away
Er zerreist meine Lungen
(he tears my lung)
He wont leave me here
Er macht weniger Sinn
(he makes less sense)
And he leaves peace in that
Ich kann nicht weg von ihm
(I can't get away from him)
My feet melting into this forest
Wie ein Banyan Baum
(like a banyan tree)

(Permit me to forgive myself
for steeling out of my lost inspiration
that of others delicate concoctions)