Saturday, July 6, 2013

Mud Wrestling

Mud Wrestling
Laijon Liu 20130706

Cursed is the ground for your sake;
In toil you shall eat of it
All the days of your life.
Both thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you,
And you shall eat the herb of the field.
In the sweat of your face you shall eat bread
Till you return to the ground,
For out of it you were taken;
For dust you are,
And to dust you shall return.”                                             - Genesis 3:17-19

dark soil, brown dirt, yellow sand, red clay...
this is what Earth made of,
in it life born, nurtured and dies.

God Yahweh, and, goddess Nuwa also used it
for the mastery of their life achievement creation
mineral, nutrients, roots, gold, and diamond hide in it
dinosaur skeleton and dump scientists sample it
scattered buried bones and skulls for archeologists to find
even climate catastrophe and falling stars are registered in it

Mud represents a label:
filth, low status and failure
anyone slippery fall in it, is a tragedy
surely that becomes bystander’s laughing stock

men are but muddy human figures struggling in dirt field
in its color we lose our identity and nationality
politicians and businessmen all in a dirty game
title, suit, leather shoes, big desk and golf course
all covered in a true brown color
ideal, dream, principal and law are mixed in a giant pot
our globe rotates like a cement mixer
we are the mud, become concrete, become architecture art
we are built, and we are torn down

market capital concept is developed after industrial revolution
miners, factory workers and farmers are created by dirt and mud
before 18th century people pant in it
after, people blow it into the sky
machinery replaces labors, earth produces more
every invention draws a wrestle of investment

millions WWII soldiers, crawling on black and white screen
Nazi, Red Army, American, Europeans, Japanese, Chinese....
they twisted and moved like earthworm
struggled in a same muddy dirt uniform
their field was a huge swamp, in it they rolled
till they became the mud, became the swamp

in Africa millions children crying in bony shapes
their big hunger filled eyes, staring at camera and world
to me they all look the same
to their parents they are all the same
in poverty and dark shelter they are born
on dirt road they bared foot walk and run

thousands young men running in Mideast desert
their anger burns like scorching sand
it seems their desert absorbs too much sunlight
too much heat, too much thirst
their faith is burning, their mind is burning
and they suddenly explode, scattered in hot sand

little pupils bearing their school bags
their text books weight like stones
billions of them, ready to memorize every book
they are born to compete, disciplined to achieve
“no pain no gain” is their slogan, endure bitterness is their fate
they strive to grow up, to sell off their rare earth
so they won’t dig the coal dirt

Mud is filth, mud is holy
it contains memory and desires
joy, grief, and thrill
sweat, blood, and greed

it blinds us,
it enlightens us with God’s spit and tears.