Several times a day
the same play
features in the recesses
of a collective mind
while shying away
from the intended message:
“Stop the carnage! Stop the carnage! Stop the carnage!”

Psychobabble in
the audio world
where roadside preachers
yell out random truths
to the suspecting mob.
They know, they know,
of course they all know
and have known how
to carefully conceal half truths
and unsuccessful ploys to silently
obliterate humanity.

Several times a day
the same act in
the same play
is repeated over again
till it has no impact
and we feel no pain
yet scream:
“Stop the lying! Stop the lying! Stop the lying!”

Schizophrenic responses
to endless turbulent times
announcing their arrival
to sympathetic ears,
psychoanalysis overbearing
while not quite clearing
the way for enlightened
caring and daring.

Several times a day
the same scene in
the same play
is performed to
a blind audience
releasing its radiance
in unbelievable proportions
all the while seeing
Injustice is rampant! Injustice is rampant! Injustice is rampant!

Psychotic understanding of how to
handle maligning waves with
a double-edged definition of
freedom.

Several times a day
the same line in
the same play
is uttered to
a deafening silence,
at once a roar,
a whisper, a question,
a plea, a delicate
note of empathy
knowing as fact
the age-old adage:
“The world’s a stage the world’s a stage
all the world’s a stage.”
Several times a day
the same pain in exacted
the same pain is transacted
the same pain is impacted
whilst mother earth’s jewels
are extracted in
the name of something inane
and stumbling as
regarded under scrutiny
of a child’s innocent inquiry:
What is your legacy?

The world’s a stage the world’s a stage
All the world is, is a stage.

Link to the Italian translation