my heart bleeds

my heart bleeds



my heart bleeds

there are people
in this empty world
around me
and had their hunger
come to a stop
my heart
may have chosen today
to tell of a life
that bleeds for those
with no dreams
other than
to want
to become
what yesterday
would have had them be

nothing can be the same
nothing can even struggle
to come to a stop
while so many are there
all without the passion
to believe
in the times
when the times
were then
just as the times
are now
clearly careful
in creating their own downfall
as if always to be in need



trace of the disaster

you have
a certain way
of dying

real or apparent

difficult to change
to put a finger on

only stumbling
among the obstacles
of the ignorance of others

us with what we are
the one thing to have come
from where we made
a lie of forever

well beyond
the blowing ashes

well beneath
your view of
nothing now to see

nothing to be hoped for

nothing new



composed of fear

consider what we know
of how soon we know nothing

talking of things
we know nothing of

until there is nothing left to say

then think about those
who have long followed
somebody else
and their utopian ideas
of what free will means

those same people
who have denied
there is a way
still to be followed

at all

as if
having only to find
the answer is not
what they thought

nor perhaps
that it was ever so

and finally

admit to everything
you have already
admitted to

care with force
on free agreements

rather than take

die more than once


© John Mingay 2015
Illustration Nick Victor


These three poems, consisting of quasi-random lexical manipulations set within poetic parameters and incorporating subconscious association, utilise text originally produced by Errico Malatesta as his seminal, anarchist work, At the Café: Conversations on Anarchism (1922).



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