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Blog

 

Flies on the wall

We’re being fried alive.

An oblivious world crawls on,

Thought I was on their side.


But I’m not.


Sick of their buzzing, fussing,

Over impetuous nothings.

Echoing in chambers,

Amounting to one thing…


Noise.


It’s all empty. And shallow.

Musing over and muffling our demise.


While we butcher the silence, crunching on french fries.

While we butcher the meaning, dining on capitalist lies.

Elitist defeatists - well, they’ll take it anyway.

Despite the cavity, we abscess and slowly decay.

And with no delay, we have lost ourselves.

To a world devoid of meaning.

A superficial super what -

Well, it’s a super fatal shame.

An obsession with the plastic goods,

A papery wafer fame.

Name.

Notoriety.

That’s what matters now.

We don’t want to know the contents,

Just give me title, kiss kiss blow bow.

What vortex am I trapped in?

A world I don’t belong.

A world where nothing matters,

No justice from the wrong.

An artist or a dreamer,

We don’t really need more of those either?

Living on a hopeful notion

While nothings getting cleaner…

The air is clogging up,

But we say live in the moment.

We won’t take too much action,

Because it turns out the hopeful are also hopeless.

Non movers, no shakers,

They fine-dine and chew on capers

While no super-man halts the papers


To tell the whole wide world that we are living a dystopian lie.


To tell the whole wide world that nothing matters, and hey, do you know why?

When you engage in a little more distraction,

While you pounce on your soundboard and doctor your caption,

No one’s listening, still.

And you didn’t listen either.

You didn’t listen everytime the winter warmed

and shuddered with it’s fever.

You didn’t bat an eyelash when you dropped your bottle in the ocean.

You didn’t feel compassion when you chewed on the fat.

The only utterance in confession was when your tummy was less flat.

So hat’s off, ladies, gentlemen, bury your ballooned heads in shame.

Take a bow, look at your handy-work, to see that this is your “now”.


You lost your own game.

Time waster,

Fire-breather

Toothpaste and coffee breath;

Brown pebbles of water

Dribbling down in contempt.

The murky future got warmer

Burnt by the sulphur

The air just got thicker

I feel vulgar.


Time waster,

Fire-breather.

I don’t want a spoiler.

Just give me the teaser,

Or taser my fancy, flightiest notions.

Look to the oil-slick oceans

And stretch in convulsion

Our attention swings sideways

Culprit to hunger.

Gurgle, the baby’s passion squiggles

And wriggles with excitement

As my ageing fresh already crinkles.


Inching and stretching

The years get less refreshing,

Fleshing out my inner spirit

In a fitting tantrum of slipping time.


Mine.


Why isn’t the world wide mine yet?


These baby blue’s dreams

Careful rhymes

No fruition of dreams -

Just a hard aching of time.


The conditioning of the cynical

Society-beaten "truths"

All the optimism of my psyche

Lost to my short-lived youth.


The big bad world out there

Snipes in harsh aggression.

There’s no room for lullaby

Just a leary recession...


No transgression to maturity

Just this hardened world view.

We forgot how to feel light

To see life as brand new.