I suffer you all, and I thank you profusely.
All the days of my life are dotted with your lives,
The blindness of the ways,
Imploring your attendance,
Measuring your acceptance,
And then finally striking.
A distracting millisecond that changes everything.
Now life is different.
You notice the attendance grows evermore,
So many with your striking resemblance,
So many with your open point of view.
“Never a cynic”, he says, “always a reverberation of the truth.”
The true truth, as if there could be some other…
I was told the world was conquered by distraction.
Sport. Drink. Pornography.
Meanwhile they talked us in to being slaves for comfort,
Then they outsourced and said,
“you know what slave? We’ve found us cheaper slaves.
So now we crack gigantically reckless champagne bottles,
Because it seems that we have ourselves a war.
Now the country’s Ego is up.
What sweet, true, Babylonian wisdom.
Watch it, and it surrounds you,
Evoking your every image
Of what is real.
Factual, tainted, lies, you-thought-was-factual, more lies, more tainting,
Unspoken, mirthful, yet… vibrant,
Beautiful, hungry, alone, all factual,
Lost, un-forgiven, still formidable,
Loose, contradictory, you;
Of Spirit? Soul?
Another sense of noverythings.
Just for you, or whoever, really.
What is clever
But lurid, insipid, correspondent.
The ever looming figure of control
Staring you straight in the eye?
Your occupation stands rigid,
Eye to eye,
Always apologetically in the right.
Sorry, we’re just doing our duty,
Because I really don’t completely despise the chains,
Especially since you were in the wrong,
Oh, I mean…
You gentle lamb.
Since time sped up,
And your evolution didn’t,
You wouldn’t be that figure, adamant as the times were.
You had to fit in,
Your outrageousness really made you wonder why the others really didn’t take to you.
Justice, preached the egg and sperm donors.
Be all you can be, no matter what, or else.
And he thought that we might have to start thinking for
Each others’ selves.
As long as the totals count,
Twenty three with a pair or
Two or more, more.
The next step is…
Imagination without contempt,
You’ve seen it all,
It’s all there,
So why would you have to think about that?
That’s why there are people in charge,
For our comfort…
Yet the lower-caste have never exulted itself around true comfort.
They just reach and dream, and pray for it,
Doing nasty little self-preserving pieces of everyday nothings to do something to promote ones’ self.
Yet what if really, we were just the manifestation of God?
One day it dawned on him that all energy was related,
No matter what they looked round and found,
But they kept on finding it until they were stroked into nothingness.
Where is the one, clear in his judgment,
Where is the man that most can’t see?
What a treat.
I thank them for the sufferings.
I thank you for an extremely vague nod of approval.
They all learn me in one way or another,
They learn me up real good,
Yet you learn me subtractively,
Ever submissive, ever true.,
Ever doing cartwheels around the sands of reality.
Awestruck like the dying parasite,
Ever languishing over the food source,
Mixing celebration with religion,
Patriotism with comfort,
Life, with evil.