Illegal Sensations

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Most people delight in stomping out the
imagination, I work in a profession where
it is a crime to be an independent thinker
and dreaming is treason

I try to keep my imagination unfettered as
I don’t like being an automaton, my col-
leagues assure me it is a pain-free state
of existence, no passion, no desire

No feelings to interfere, just calm nirvana
in following rules and regulations and re-
fining rules through self-discipline, I fear
sliding gently into complacency

Scared of accepting everything just as it
is, I love people unconditionally but seek
protection against dying inside, when I
see a spark in somebody else

I want to share in its warmth, there are so
few whose spontaneity is untouched, you
say I should become disciplined and join
the fray, stop speculation

Seek no alternatives to reality and accept
being a non-entity like all translators who
read dictionaries and follow guidelines
blindly, happy with scholarly ideas

When I tried that in my youth the pain in
my soul was unbearable, I would rather
embrace the pain of desire and passion
than grow cold, inured

A passionless being without original
thought, beautiful dreams, illegal
sensations and wild fantasies…

Unless you get paid to use your imagination,
you had better kill it, they say, it is a useless
commodity and only the best actors, writers
musicians and poets are allowed any

If you are unknown, unsung and middle-class,
you shall be hung if imagination interferes with
your doing your duty, once you are cast as
Cinderella, you are forbidden to dream

Susan Boyle is an exception that proves the rule,
I beg to differ, my ideal is to become a professional
dreamer and teach others to dream with me, and
I shall not give it up, I would rather die…


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