What is the Why for Poetry?
Is it a well worded lie
or a linguistic gathering
for the collective
as suggested
by Bertolt Brecht
Could it be a
conflation of thoughts
strung together
in an attempt to
render a confession
Perhaps it’s to take
random words and
create an obscure flattering
for your secret lover
as Oscar Wilde did
It could possibly be
the lunatic ravings of
an erudite madman
who says he knows
but remains silent
In the end
the only one that may know
is the actual poet
who wrote it
…however…
they’ll leave it up to you
We Must Look Behind the Curtain
Behind the curtain
waits the wizard
using magic
for blatant lies
Pulling strings
pushed buttons
reflecting chaos
in troubled eyes
Malevolent thoughts
wanton actions
cause the truth
to amortize
Lies coalesce
forced delusions
continually prompt
their own demise
The truth will
set you free
so I’ve been told
when one complies
Fallacies die
as we see
that truthfulness
begins to aggrandize
Yet the curtain must
be pulled back
enabling the truth
to proselytize
Unscripted
throw heartpoppy over rockefellian machiavellianism
you macho fuck why do you salivate over the cost of your sweat
trade in lipstick infested kisses and barbarous butchorous bites on your neck
stand in the might and awe of a life sized hawk inside your foyer
it is a visitation to rid you of all your infestations
to throw you in lipstick pool
enjoy it and don't count the kittens
that hawk didn't take any
she was just there to appreciate you and protect you
you were told what you gathered
Beware of Menticide
It’s all about control
the illusion of freedom
keeping you busy
optimizing your time
Do you feel satisfied?
sophisticated boredom
edited self-esteem
instantaneous contact
networked loneliness
We’ve lost who we were!
unlimited choices
less empirical knowledge
algorithmic propaganda
You’re told what to believe!
delusional actions
collective psychosis
Made easier by isolation!
psychotic breakdown
societal chaos
We’ve become unable
or perhaps unwilling
to think for ourselves
Smile in there
Cherry fucker
You sure have a long way to go
You sure will dance in Ibiza
You sure will rub rosaries on silent roads
You sure will be protected from what you fear
Your rubbed rosaries will testify
You sure will live
You will also shout victorious on that podium you didn't desire but was always yours
You sure will not starve
I have written to God for you
He responded that why don't you write yourself
I told him you're sad
He said that makes the three of us
So go ahead
Plant that seed on what is now barren
Fuck this wisdom
Just get up and go out
Your steps have long been awaited
