Thursday, 17 March 2016

the orwellian complex

the contradiction ever just
the words fall down so we will musk
barrels and barrels in your marketplace
let your heart glide where your spirits cannot

i am but a humble fool
an ibsen, a rousseau, a marx, a tolstoy
purvey to the blade and ax of the martyrs
singing songs scanning all the books of blue

don't fault me now for i shall not sing
locked away in my lumber king
the bed is big and i am naked
but a prisoner no more at last, no feed no kitten

welcome to my land of dreams
where pippin and merry and maxwell breath
i don't write as much as i used to friend
no ears to listen, to a yelling jail cell man

the hospital took away the taste of the wild
made me fat and bald
half man, half monster, catering to those who ask and wonder
half hair, half boils what else can i say? heath these words, thy could be thy last

there is no chance in me for hell
or no hell in chance for me to rebel
the people own the masses, the minority knows
how can a man like trump heed the blow?

with the words of the masses
the opium flows through the veins
looking for hope, when all else seems in vain
an intellectual vain, one we all know we have

how, i ask you, can we let this happen
when we should be a utopia, a place, a happening
so don't leave me yonder with these words
i'm here all night, so, nigh shed thy tear


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