Angry at some of the crowd, the mob, who turn their heads to
your direction and scream
Obscenity laden drivel ,spewing from their guts and landing
in your ears covering you in vile bile.
When will it stop, you say, as your head spins with rhetoric
and caves in like a bullied animal.
You hide, from the media and all its cronies, who drone on
at you as you pretend to be interested.
And then at the feeds that drip information vile and abusive
into your social universe, depicting scenes that are not useful or intelligent.
When will it stop, we roar, as 24 hour news rolls the same
ol’ crap over and over again, making the smallest headline into world-changing
news.
And all the time we are expected to behave; be vigilant; be
good, while our eyes are bombarded Alex-like by hate.
How can we live in world depicted to be so vile and yet we
are all expected to just, get on?
Yet, with all the diatribe that exists the constant stream
of thought within our tiny, un-computerised minds is to be at one with each
other. United, like a family or a sports team, all for one and one for all.
If only media companies thought the same and fed us with
something other than the terror, playing into the hands of corporations bent on
tying the population down into mindless drones of commerce.
Without love we are nothing; without understanding we are
stupid; without togetherness we are islands sinking into a murky ocean.
The human race depends on it, before we are destroyed by an
elite feeding their saliva-riddled chops on money.
Populism is on the rise and the few are losing, little by
little, we will stand together.
As I lay under the stars I dream of new beginnings; the
blanket of sky hovers black over my brow and seeps into the pores of my skin; bringing
an icy chill to the thrill of the night. I uncover my knees and express concern
that they will no longer be able to bend to the breeze. I am a rock, unbecoming
and unwelcome to nature. Believed to be real only in the mind of a soothsayer,
and seldom seen as a saviour for all my faults. If you look closely you can see
the scars that tug at my skin, they writhe around as if in a pantomime sketch,
unruly and out of sync with one another. They tell my tale, that cannot fall
from my lips, and utter phrases that dare not see the light of day. As I lay
under the stars, the slow train of life comes to a stalling halt and snorts as
if in disgust. It belches out a plume of smoke like a brave soldier taking a
break from the slaughter. Think as one, we are told as individuals, and then
they bemoan the fact that we are all the same. Yet we are different, and all
deserve to be so in the eyes of the law and the land. The star falls dreamily
over the canvas of darkness and reminds me of a tear dropping across your
cheek. It winks cheekily before it disappears and then I am left alone, as one
by one the stars fade and crash into itself, swallowed into the hungry awning
above.
If there is a heaven would it be so greedy? I like to think so, because then we can say that there is a meaning to all of this epic understatement that sips coffee while we talk and walk on.
If there is a heaven would it be so greedy? I like to think so, because then we can say that there is a meaning to all of this epic understatement that sips coffee while we talk and walk on.
1 comment:
"...then we can say that there is a meaning to all of this epic understatement that sips coffee while we talk and walk on." Brilliantly expressed.
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