Poetry - : - you shall be/ put to sleep by dan marius

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you shall be/ put to sleep
poetry [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by dan marius [blindaswine]

2008-02-26 | |

In January 1879 Van Gogh got a temporary post as a missionary in the village of Petit Wasmes in the coal-mining district of Borinage in Belgium, bringing his father's profession to people felt to be the most wretched and hopeless in Europe. Taking Christianity to what he saw as its logical conclusion, Vincent opted to live like those he preached to, sharing their hardships to the extent of sleeping on straw in a small hut at the back of the baker's house where he was billeted; the baker's wife used to hear Vincent sobbing all night in the little hut. His choice of squalid living conditions did not endear him to the appalled church authorities, who dismissed him for "undermining the dignity of the priesthood."

I call them/ The knives/ they always cut/ brilliantly/ when least expected/ high precision/ iron machines/ ready to remove/ the undesirable/ this is the institution/ that never fails/ its goal is/ silence

The knives do not work on their own/ they are merely/ the primitive instruments of a higher & more refined/ power
with a vast and macabre/ hierarchy

whenever confronted with/ a free & powerful/ spirit
this/ ancient/ ministry of annulment/ calls on its/
dogs

one can hear the metallic/ symphonies of
eradication

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