Clover Kreger
Woodlands Healing Centre
Programmed
by Clover Kreger
Who knows the man behind the mask?
To uncover his true self’s a daunting task
Emotions always ruled by a tight rein
What the world sees he simply feigns
He lives locked in an image of a man
He takes what he can get and when he can
He imagines that’s the wisdom of the sage
The successful creature of this modern age
He’s duty’s slave, in work a firm believer
His week is battened down with chores and labour
And if a chink lets in some rebel air
He’ll drink to drown the image lingering there
He dresses in the style of the day
He wouldn’t think to try another way
The chaos of his dreams he soon forgets
He clings to orderly reality, and yet
There’s something missing, something out of synch
Utopia is teetering on the brink
This paradise of Man is just a con
Material possessions aren’t what paradise is based on
So to block out doubts, the man who takes to drink
Television kills his tendency to think
with newspapers, magazines, his national identity
he fills the hollow spaces of his stagnant personality
He shaves the vapid face shown in the mirror
when the 24-hour stubble has disappeared
without a second glance into the eyes
swimming with clear coldness, awash with easy liesWho knows the man behind the face?
Of the lively little boy there’s not a trace
All is stifled in the urge to get ahead
and the chess game at the bank: sweet love is dead
Bills and cars and suits, they come and go
Life is rounded with such things, or don’t you know?
There are blinkers on the mask, he goes where led
so it’s always up the ladder, always straight ahead
Perpetual carrots dangle for the donkey
A house with built-in bar, a brand new car key
and with the mask in place he cannot see
the crumbling of his happy spontaneity
He’s lost, neurotic, immune to true desires
His wants are all mass-media inspiredSometimes, of course, he’ll hold his wife so close
Spinning in the chaos of the cosmos
Drowning in the eyes he doesn’t know
And for a fraction of an instant – letting go
A Selection of Poems by Clover Kreger
I'd rather flee than fight thee
Nascent Morning in the Mountains
Programmed
In Transient Flashes, For a Transcendental Moment which Passes, Life (Can't You See?) Is an Ecstasy
The Fit Cats and Fat Whores of Singapore
When Lost in Literary Labyrinths. . .
All Fineness and Finery Goes to Earth
© Copyright 2007 Clover Kreger Disclaimer: The information at this website is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. Always seek the advice of your doctor with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. The content of this website comprises only the observations and opinions of the authors and contributors: it does not constitute medical advice to readers.