Joie de Vivre

First of all, there must be a warning
For those who expect, perhaps ignoring
That the truth, seen by my eyes, I'll say,
with no games, or jokes, or play:

What follows, in this text, is not new;
simply one's testimony and point of view,
where who speaks has no fear,
because sees through a cyclop seer,
whose images possess such quality
that deletes any and all partiality.
I must tell you who I am,
so surprise won't hit you in a bang:

I'm the Reporter, and those I see,
The Cop, the Judge, the Passist, (and Thee)
are here reported, as fairly as I could,
in good will, where them (you) all stood.
On a joyful and pretty celebration:
The Carnival Parade itself - Exclamation -
All in different places, eagerly looking for
those who, for them, could do more.

The Cop, quite nervous and paranoid
that a man or a bullet would fill a void
of security, by chance or skill,
and set chaos, by theft or kill,
touched his gun, a symbol
of his power, in a Limbo
where he, with his vest,
his club held in zest,

his head in a helmet, himself in uniform
of navy blue, could transform
from a mere and helpless civilian,
in the very own wrong-doers villain;
Or so express his cheeks, now pink,
inflated for what he must think.
He glares at the Judge, high
in his room, so that nigh

unrecheable he seems,
above other human beings,
with cold orbits the Paradise staring,
his sight loses nothing, sparing
(like death and taxes)
no one that passes.
However, the crystals of ice
in his eyelids only hide

his bliss and his joy;
of cash and luck, a deploy
from a simple place
to here, judging the pace
of so many, up in his tower...
So thrilling, orgasmic power!
He stares, pretending impartiality,
at the Passist, exuding sensuality

in the Avenue, half-naked, dancing
on bare feet, smiling, enhancing
by her presence, the happiness seed
planted by music- Magnificent indeed!
A provocative gaze, aimed upwards
and her School has a point scored.
Her hips shaking in outstanding
frenzy, call anyone, jumping or landing,

with a promise, bluffing,
leading to something
that nobody would get...
for her target was set:
A man in uniform, blue,
pictured in her mind, nude.
And there you are, what want Thee?
The only one I can't really see.

Money, power, girl, or boy,
what is your toy?
Which of these would you be:
Cop, Judge, Passist, Me?
Perhaps none, maybe any,
or all, you could say many,
for you, my friend, a look
through the camera, took.

And so, here ends my report
of and with visions of certain sort;
It's up to you what remains,
joy or despite, losses or gains,
and by no means let a warning,
dictate you from morning

to night; wake up, pay no fee.
This text is made for (from?) Thee.