all written on February 12, 2015
by Fatima Lasay
". . . we overlooked so / Easily the energy of the earth from which all things / Come and there there is sanctuary, . . ."
Surely as I sit before you, man, do you know how
The apparatus of the cunt needs the tongue of man
It needs yes it needs you to pray kneel between now
And forever, between heaven and god, the lines of tan
Across your chest sinking into that magnificent armoury
Of spurting and pricking weapons, but oh tongue me
Let me watch you before this congress of orations
Let me come in your winsome face and endure once again
The lashes of your tongue, spread me open, libations
For your mouth pour like the mountain springs of Eden!
No! My teats bleed like the vulva of beasts, blood glistens
Between my legs is bled the origin of man, hold me
Yes! In your mouth and bleed upon you, we nourish sins
Of our mothers and the women before them you will see
Through this divine wonder of creation, do you see, man
Do you see god in my cunt, food for which you hunger
Eternally, suck me and play with this vulval succulent
Entrails, steaming sweetmeats for the sweet ardent lover
Now kiss me please kiss me while my mouth gapes for
Your most enticing prick I promise never to ask for more.
Civilisation and Two Forms
The culmination of the various means of forced labour
Against the capitalist diktat of a great western civilisation
May take on two related forms as I have witnessed for
Two decades passed with each a struggle into cessation
Of all psychological and physical activism against the state
They pray the system submits to a collective suicide yet
Until then there are two forms, yes two forms, first is a fate
Of complete mental degeneracy under duress of legal authority
Drugs of mental restraint and the suicide of a smoking spate
Albeit slowly, financing gains for the great tobacco industry.
Second is the strict production of whore art under license
Of the banks of popular culture through which the pimp state
Profits from the high beliefs of self-proclaimed outcasts whose
Status is only possible through the benediction of the same great
Satan against whom they practise their struggles, a narcissism
Dutifully ensues as they view each other as sexual competitors
Each convinced of their uniqueness in an ocean of parasitism
With the master they despise, there is no dignity in such vitriols
They scream against the hand that feeds them, they pretend
To be avatars of Oriental poverty but cannot submit to its demands.
No I never sold off, not in the silence of my sanctuary
I never turned away from my disgust of the bankrupt
Fortress of capitalism, the fruits of cruel depravity
Deep in the culture of fetish and commodity, but stop
There and see that I still love you and think dearly
Of our labours, the struggle in the name of our art
When art was unafraid of the power of money, control
Of the lives of our people, do you remember what
I said, did you not think I was bold and no one would
Dare because they fear they have nowhere else to go.
Here is the secret, the hidden key to freedom, thus
I have found upon my exile, while we are so used to
The creative powers of our code, the use of detritus
To build our computing machines, we overlooked so
Easily the energy of the earth from which all things
Come and there there is sanctuary, it is forgotten it is
Outside the grasp of most of us so much more of our
Enemies, there are no retailable assets in these nor
Prestige for the post-industrialist seeker of fortune now
Where else is nowhere, I found, my struggle is over.
Fatima Lasay was born in Sampaloc, Manila. She has traveled widely as an artist and scholar. She now lives a quiet life in a rural village on the island of Bohol.
© copyright 2015 by Fatima Lasay. All rights reserved.
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diskurso is an independent, Philippines-based online magazine on art aiming to veer away from a present mental landscape replete with the customary peacock and weasel words that continue to service the art industry.