Be very clear about this,
If about nothing else:
These things in boxes and bags
And polythene wraps…
They are not your life
And they never were.
Somehow,
There arose in you
A confusion;
You mis-placed the world
In these objects of desire
Of memory and
Obligation.
But
It is possible to walk away;
It is difficult, but possible.
It is discouraged, but it is possible.
It is…
Let there be war.
Let us open all the doors
And invite the ghosts in.
Let us empty the cupboards,
Dig up all the bones
And lay them out: let there be war.
Let the wheels turn;
Enough of this stagnant peace
That is no peace at all.
The thundering lie torments me;
I am disgusted by the deceits that
Underpin it.
Better the honesty of war…
I will chase your ghost through the garden,
Through all the gardens,
Through scenery that collapses and assembles
In an endless variety of illusions.
I will hound your deathly footsteps;
I will be the one constantly laying
Primroses,
Snowdrops,
Cowslips under your feet.
You want to haunt the kingdom of the Dead;
I will haunt you:
I will be the ghost to your ghost
Wherever you go.
All the…
Well, the Buddha’s in the Buddhafield
And Christ is in the church.
(They say that) Krishna’s in the temple;
Pan’s in the silver birch.
But, you know I can’t hear them whisper
I can’t hear them cry,
(Because) I feel like I’m a hundred and five
And I think I’m gonna die.
Well, I’ve been down to the ashram
And I’ve worn the orange robes.
I’ve closed my eyes…