200817A
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They grappled and wrestled with it,
but they did not kill the monster.
Wounding it with numbers
hurled with a quick and definite aim.
It sought to crush them
under an infinite irrationality.
Those are the worst sorts of battles
that can become the destroyer of worlds.
Sliding innocents into graves
the way candy bars are put into wrappers.
Do not tell them anything
about what the fight is really about.
Flag waving makes it so much easier
to recognize and dispatch others.
Brass bands and harmonies,
can up the tempo of the slaughter.
Most kept as simple minded as possible,
and not taught the tools of reasoning.
Encouraged to choose the wrong heroes,
while cursing at peace mongers,
who jeopardize jobs and healthy profits.
It is only the big ticket items that add up
to reinforcements of feelings of security.
Do not sweat the kitschy small stuff.
You have to believe
that if you are not destroying someone
you cannot ever hope to live the dream.
The enemy is always an inhuman monster
that will rape your boys and girls,
while looting and burning your villages.
It does not matter what you do to them,
because otherwise it will be worse for you.
The isolation created by virtual affinity
makes it so much easier to kill and be killed.
The only enemy you can really befriend
is the one in your own mirror.
Everything must be put in its place,
and nothing must ever cross any lines.
If you submit completely to control
it will give you a submissive as reward.
Remember that you have an assigned destiny
granting you the freedom of acceptance.
What you want is only your own weaknesses,
and your eternal father always knows best.
Welcome to the official state religion,
that officially does not ever actually exist.
That is where the big lie becomes your truth,
as to when the saints come marching in.
You are only another bankrupt in this life,
meant to store up reward points in Heaven.
Practice the most common habits
and participate in routine observances.
Do not stand out from the ordinary crowd
or attract any exceptional notice.
Tormented artists are your village fools,
failing to die to it, when ordered to do so.
Always counter intellect with raw muscle
because their strange ideas are dangerous.
Never blaspheme against what is popular,
if you want a peace surpassing understanding.
Self actualization means that you won't,
if you fail to guess what they want you to do.
The pretense of an inviolable privacy
is something that you are required to uphold.
There are publications that exist to teach you
the currently acceptable fashion.
If you failed to use money to obtain something,
you are guilty of trying to coin false currencies.
Such actions are a form of the worst treason,
and can be made to suffer a death penalty.
Only those who conform to the unwritten book
can ever hope to make it big.
There is no insider trading for outsiders,
and corruption is a rule, not an exception.
If you do not give it back to where you got it from,
you are guilty of the mortal sin of selfishness.
Gambling is a battlefield condition,
and you will be punished for not taking risks.
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200817B
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You lost them,
but you have no idea where
or actually why.
You simply get told
that you lost them,
and no idea
if you will ever get them
given back.
That is the way it goes,
when it goes,
the way it goes.
You never know
what you got
until it is gone,
is the way they put it,
after the fact.
You are not sure
you really had,
whatever it is,
that is gone.
You have to take it
on pure faith,
that it was something
and is gone.
You examine
that deep feeling
of hollowed out
emptiness
carried inside,
for any changes,
but it the same
as it ever was.
Something is gone,
and you do not know
what it is,
or where it went.
No idea why,
or if it is coming back,
but you have to
miss it.
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200817C
-----------
Signal comes down the line
from all that irresponsibility
at the very top.
A further corruption
of original intent.
Never trust gods,
spirits of the departed,
or invisible men,
as no good will come of it
if you do.
None of them answers
to anyone else,
and none of them cares
about any challenges
that you might try to issue.
Your sacrifices
mean less than puffs of smoke,
simply taking away
from any of the meaning
otherwise inferred.
Thought you found something
in the jungle drums,
but that was not your tribe,
and it all echos hollow
from the other side.
Some were told
not to remember you,
and others told to forget,
you did not make the cut
as to joining that outfit.
They knew what it meant
when you fail at the hunt,
and the dogs are loosed
as you approach the gate,
after reaching for the light.
If circles are wheels,
what moves between them,
is what they crush.
If a tear was cried,
it was only ashes and dust.
Waves of goodbyes,
along the melting shores
of a fevered mind.
It was all a delirium
so unlike any other lives.
Such loose arrangements,
and everything contrived
to spoil the taste for it.
Millennia of ruins
poisoning the blood.
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200817D
------------
They say slavery is more readily imposed
on the extremely lonely.
In a very restless sort of manner,
perhaps that is partly true.
Trouble is that they are more likely
to run away,
and some hardly give a care
as to where they chance to run.
They more often try to kill something
as if a death might make a real difference.
Same as wringing the necks of chickens
for Papa Legba.
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200817E
-----------
It stimulates nothing
more than a desire to get away;
taking it all with you,
leave nothing behind,
wherever you might happen to go.
Whatever you happen to touch
always gets contaminated
by a perpetual lack of the right paperwork.
Chewed out, and eaten up by formalities,
nothing gets you through the scan.
You never know what you will need,
and never end up needing what you know.
Nothing ever matches up
to anyone else's limited attention span,
as it inevitably drifts from consciousness.
Everything ends up momentary,
the way someone pushes a button
flips a switch, or pulls a plug.
Then it is all over,
as the sudden death end of the usual game.
Rumours of ambulances coming and going,
somewhere after the determination of fact,
as if anything ever lasted long enough
to even begin to really care,
as to what the truth really is.
A sort of mental dismemberment,
that punctuates every scene,
with endless sequences of disconnects.
Almost everyone has become a casualty
that nothing can really save.
You have to wash your hands of it all,
leaving the guilty with their stains,
in the hopes that none of it ever washes off.
It was an illegal act of war,
begun by assassinating attempted diplomacy.
There were no actual negotiations,
and no way to talk about a peace treaty.
They simply keep dropping bombs,
destroying whatever gets built up,
and wrecking all of your bridges.
The sanctions never end,
as to embargos on any authentic dreams.
They torpedo any efforts
to run the blockade,
steadily cutting down any friendly forces.
Pushed into an economic box canyon,
you know it can only become a massacre.
Whatever was put up as a defence,
has long since been shot down,
as someone's idea of target practice.
You are failing at gaining new ground,
and constantly pushed back
from wherever you try to take a stand.
Your battle to achieve your own liberty
pushed to ever further extremes.
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200817F
-----------
You put all your eggs in
one basket,
and hoped for Heaven.
Hoped for dividends
on your term investment,
before it matures,
into Rapture.
An insurance policy
in case they blow the banks,
and Wall Street
comes crashing down again,
as millions of Hallelujahs.
Got to be something in it,
if all else fails.
Wars are cash cows,
that churches love to milk.
People tend to show up,
when they feel closer
to meeting their Maker.
They cozy up to their Lord
when war bells are ringing.
Enough to spur preachers
to urge dropping bombs
and religious leaflets
on a more regular basis.
It means more telethons
and that is good for the prospectus,
garnering more investor interest.
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