Playing to the Gallery

Do you know who I am?

You’ve seen my shields, you’ve seen my swords

You’ve seen my name etched on blackboards

You’ve seen my bones shriveling in the cold

You’ve seen my love being sold and resold

On busy streets, where I begged and stole

In amphitheatres where I played my role

You’ve seen my face through night and day

And you’ve seen my body made of clay

You think that it’s enough

Well, friend, you make me laugh !

You talk of puppets, you talk of strings

And of all those worthless things

Of dime a dozen fairy tales

Of marketplaces where everything sells

Of television news that preach hatred

And try to discern profane from sacred

Of swindlers and thugs becoming kings

Of millionaires’ wives and diamond rings

Of capital markets and stock exchanges

Of dead pop stars and their mock sex-changes

Do you think I really care?

But it’s alright, I don’t pretend to hear…

And those masks you’ve seen me in

Of factory made virtue and sin

And rows and rows of broken faces

Of tired lawyers who’ve lost their cases

Criminal Law is tough, indeed

On mortal flesh it sows its seed

All those questions and all the answers

From King Lear to Japanese dancers

You’d given me the script of the play

And all those words I had to say

You thought I couldn’t see through you

But the haze would lift, I always knew

You’ve seen me smile, you’ve heard me sigh

And those million deaths I did not die

With the lives I did not live

Conjured thoughts meant to deceive

Ripened breasts and hornets’ nests

Of faith, hope and the aftertastes

I’ve lived in the shades of light

Hiding myself from your sight

Like cricket matches that end in draws

Like neon signs and Roman Laws

Like the shadow of fear that haunts the gallows

Like those gentlemen who shoot down swallows

Like the Constitution of the Nation of Death

Like a stillborn baby’s final breath

You’ve seen the saints, you’ve seen the thieves

You’ve heard those speeches our President gives

You’ve seen miseries as they unfold

Being sold in markets for a bagful of gold

You’ve seen laughter being born in murk

You’ve seen light in the womb of dark

You’ve seen Midas with his golden touch

Though his daughter didn’t complain much

You’ve seen assassins dying of guilt

Slaves being whipped, pyramids being built

You’ve seen all these, but you haven’t seen me

Dear History, I’ve hoodwinked thee !

But I know what your mistake is –

You never wait for the rain to cease….

All your hypocrisies – they make me sick

And hence this game of hide and seek…

Beyond this mist the river runs wild

And there she sleeps – my sacred child

Beneath the soil where corpses rest

My blood flows out, with toxic waste

And now for the final part

Read this page before you tear it apart –

Behind my eyes I’ve hidden my mind

You can search, but you won’t find

For the clock hardly strikes its blows

Though time comes and time goes…

Well, if you still claim to know me now

You’re foolish enough, but you’ll get to know me somehow

P.S. Hollow words – they make me high

Hence beware, this might be a lie