Saturday, September 27, 2014

AFRAID OF BEING AFRAID

Should you look into the eyes
of the hideous below your face
you don't have to seek or trace
it’s in the news of human race
why be scared if it takes place.
Box office hits are scary flicks
people pay to see such films
kicks as adrenaline shoots up
their dormant emotions tested
get all excited, safely blasted.
Fear is an abominable emotion
a tormentor's most potent potion
the foremost cause of soul's erosion
the vaccination against fear is caution
the distinction is the cause of confusion.











CONSUMER SHAME


A part of us is the end result of what we eat
Our meat has a history, the source of the feed
The need of a growing population, also the greed
Has been the cause of a monstrous appetite indeed
Most food is processed, frozen or dried and compressed
Hunger and survival are integral, who cares about the rest
Awareness we lack, should we look, there'll be much to detest.






PLUNGE

In village square 
knelt knee deep 
in a glut of irony
epicure baloney
this lifelong trip
lopsided journey
a groundless fall
continues to roll
down the slope
gathering speed
consuming feed
should you cope
don’t lose hope
until you stop.






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INTENT


I ask myself what is my intention
why do I bother to post another
reminder of man made disaster
will it alter the established order?.

The truth is relative to the watcher
the adept don’t listen to a preacher
my intention is not to be a teacher
I’m only provoking a biased butcher.

Am I just a self righteous ignoramus
who is intent in conquering Uranus? 
or am I simply another creed of us
just a bunk disturber making a fuss?.

I am only a passer by, sharing surmise
seeking surety, getting satisfaction thus
here now, gone tomorrow, not to surprise
could I change the World after my demise!.






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Tuesday, September 23, 2014

TROPHY




If a person has true merit
trophies won’t change it a bit
there are many that long for it
decorations make them distinct
should you have a good instinct
you can easily see, not even think
who is authentic and who is a shrink.






DOODL'ART CITY


When hands draw and scribble 
spontaneous unintentional images 


 faces within faces emerge
 automatism casually manifests

verse in reverse
Scribbled on a napkin 

in a greasy spoon

a hasty doodle, 

is going to the trash 
soon

this happens quite often 

in this forsaken city

if you ask me, I would say 

"what a pity!".






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Monday, September 22, 2014

SUBORIGIN


Suboriginal drawings not only disclose 
the hidden aspects of an artist's vision
but also what is perceived by the seer
as such they reflect a subliminal mirror
we witness ourselves in another's eyes
as symbols are instinctively recognized
what is within us is also part of the whole.




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FLIP - FLOP

This verse is written in reverse
in a world of constant pretense
the contrary should make sense
there is no need to take offence.

Universities swindle knowledge
legal systems obstructs justice
money is the cause of poverty
doctors casually disrupt health.

The media distorts information
governments suppress freedom
patriotism constrains humanity
religion extinguishes spirituality.

Rather extreme this does sound
certitude is nowhere to be found
the sky has fallen to the ground
we’ll have to turn things around.




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YOU BET

On a table of roulette a fast feast has been laid
the famished are being offered an enticing bait
by means of the wheel spin a spurious promise
losers with bulging eyes are subject to demise
they have been wiped out as the oracle can tell
predicting just about all that is about to prevail
when bettors push their luck they end up in jail
compulsive gamblers left with their soul to sell.








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REFLECTIONS IN A MIRROR

Layers upon layers of memory traces 
faces within faces of races and places
my lucid visions have been squandered 
washed against remote corners of my mind
where the faintest ideas gather and season
longing to be set free from the grasp of reason.
My roots have been severed, my shoots leveled
my memory comes and goes, I walk on my toes
my feet are slippery, my mind is becoming jittery.
I sleep well though, I witness myself in my dreams
as barely a child, still in diapers, licking my fingers
yet I can easily climb a tree, I feel so gingerly free
being exactly me, carefree, like it was meant to be.
When I wake up though, as my eyes catch a mirror
all of a sudden I am stricken by this disturbing furor
there must be an error here, I know not this stranger
a vexing feeling catches me off guard, I’m in danger
that's when I sink into red ink, bite my lips and write
until my face slips out of my sight in spite of the spite
I raise my voice and yell, never mind what mirrors tell.







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