Acrylic painting, monotype ‘My
City’, I.G.
My City
My city is
the iron castle
Of my spirit, friends, strangers
I see it in the possibilities
of the future
That becomes to
the nuclear atoms tie.
There is
happiness in the imagination of advertising
Love, smiles,
wealth comes in a moment
Poverty-stricken
houses do not turn off lights at nights
The light is not
inviting
Because they hide
treacherous eyes.
There are
welcoming summers
Sunny days play,
wanton
While the arctic
nights are freezing.
The winter.
There are
fashionable graves, bought in advance
Unseen cancer knocks
at the back door.
My city –
The castle of the
future
What happens to
it?
Where does it take us?
At nights, when
the chaos sleeps
Dogs bark
Sorrowful,
oppressive
Like in the yard
of a dire, old village.
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