Shaved heads left <br />with no identity <br />crawling out of <br />dust's eternity <br />they spit and howl <br />the beauty true <br />foiled hopes under the <br />white pale hue <br />the dream of what <br />you shouldn’t <br />might <br />not really <br />couldn’t <br />don’t look now! <br /> <br />It's horrible <br />it's shocking <br />it's what you are <br />it's what we know <br />it's not the no <br />it's not the yes <br />just to confess <br />you don't get what it's <br />all about it's <br />something crazy <br />it's something strange <br />emotion's range <br />of darkness light <br />the rays of night <br />under the white face <br />of your soul <br />out of control <br />in rhythm that <br />just cannot be <br />known to men <br />like you and me. <br /> <br />It's pure as <br />New York snow <br />it touches where <br />you cannot know <br />it cries <br />it laughs <br />it says it all <br />in words <br />untold <br />as black stars <br />fall <br />it's here <br />it's now <br />it's ugly <br />but it's <br />still somehow <br />so <br />beautiful.<br /><br />Boaz Zippor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/butoh-i/
