Shades, spirits and flesh

Shades, spirits and flesh

Sulaimon is a ghost, for he never understood,

that a ladder going downwards

could lead to any good.

He built a temple upwards,

and the gods came down to us,

they dressed up as policemen,

it’s not flowers, it is fuzz.

He kept the gold all for himself

And drank all kinds of wine,

he gruffeled with the cattle,

and he turned into a swine.

He stumbeled fully drunk into the least of dumps,

he married a young goose

and she gave him all her bumps.

Sulaimon is an asshole, for he dresses all in blue,

in a policeman’s suit

and in a prophet’s shoe.

He mumbles with the mumbles,

Paul Simon left behind,

the fighter and the boxer

are ashamed, they both turn blind.

When I came into town, I found him there so sad,

he cried about his life,

and for all the girls he had.

I took him in my arms,

showed him the way to heaven,

but still heard the alarms,

below the queen of seven.

© by Patrick Rabe, 22. August 2020 Hamburg

Inspired by listening to James Dean Bradfields new album, “Even in Exile“.

It’s great, and I thank you a lot, James and Patrick!

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