Beyond Madness
(for the Amsterdam Balloon Company)

by Hans Plomp


Murder, rape, and genocide,
crisis, madness, and starvation,
gloomy buildings, empty muzak,
haven’t we heard it all before?
More airplanes, bombs, and laws,
more people get shot
in the name of some God.
No spacemen have come to save the world
and the square planet keeps on pulling,
pulling down the satellites,
while old Jesus is still hanging
on his cross.
Very few have blown their minds                 
and countless cunts keep spitting
faceless generations into life.
Has nothing changed at all?
Now listen here: the prophecies announce
the greatest change in human history,
a true mutation of humanity,
a step much greater than from ape to man.
The prophecies announce
we’ve almost reached the boiling point
of transformation,
where matter becomes liquid
and where liquid become gas ―
such a gas.
We float into a new dimension,
beyond the boiling point
across the abyss of madness,
untouchable for morbid mortals.
See who wait there for us:
the smiling spirits of the ancestors,
fair women and musicians,
animals and children
dwell in this age-old new dimension
beyond madness,
where living is easy,
dying is a magic dream,
and hope comes true.
Nothing has changed
but you

My mind may ask:
How can I find my self?
Who is the I that finds?
Who is the self?
Who’s asking, anyway?
This is perplexing.
In vain I grasp for sense.
But when I close my eyes
to look inside
I find myself back
in the middle of the labyrinth
at peace with all,
no need for explanations ―
As perfectly at ease
as a fly on a turd.