It's a labor to peer into fathomless skies. Call it work on any level not reviled or despised. Still, it's toil observing—a pain in the neck—and a chore to keep watching as you crane the head back...
...Too, regret is a bitch ever lurking the wings. No bells on her toes and she carries a sting. She appears near the end of your time on the stage; despair, then, more possible... inured against rage...
.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«***»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.
...Will I regret wasted time badly spent
ever searching a fathomless space?
Will I admit and despair "wasted moments"
to a mirror I hold to my face?
Will I shake my head sadly
if I find I've been "tooled,"
and the evidence is in...
I was wrong, so daft... a fool?
...Will I regret wasted time badly spent
ever searching a fathomless space?
Will I admit and despair "wasted moments"
to a mirror I hold to my face?
Will I shake my head sadly
if I find I've been "tooled,"
and the evidence is in...
I was wrong, so daft... a fool?
.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«***»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.
I'd worry more that this was the case, but our story's distorted; this is plain on its face. From "Reconstruction" to "Viet Nam", distortions are recorded. "History" is mystery! Revision is supported!
What's gone before? Their fantasy... ...their contrived catastrophe! Too, what comes after? Outraged screams... ...I reject their "hopes" and "dreams"!
What must I respect while at the bottom of their food chain? What am I to do as I resist my culture's brain-drain? What am I to be when given air so thick with lies... ...then perceive an ...inexpressible... I have watched attend our skies?
Admonished to think critically ... an ironic bottom line. When you "lays your money down"—when you read the print that's fine? Well, find your leg well hosed with piss! The pisser calls it rain! Too, find their fingers in your pocket when they're not inside your brain!
When you string it all together and the pieces rather fit… Well... you've got yourself a model, friend, and you see this might be it!
Society's contrived dispair is what we feed upon. It's something less than nourishing and the premise is all wrong. The premise is false heroes that support a status quo, where truth is out the window as it's counter to the show.
See, it chaps my ass, and steams me good—their take on... "Founding Fathers," or, believing that you're standing on their "giant's shoulder"! Bother!
Doesn't Mr. Bennett know... or read his own damned books? These 'god-like' MEN were psychopaths... ...malfeasance working crooks!
These were men who raped their slaves conflating swindled dollars! Sure enough, I broad brush! Though, the truth should snag some collars! Congress was a "den of thieves," a place for knave and coward! And Presidents were Klansmen, friend, old "traditions" cruelly powered.
Don't sanctify, or deify, or sanitize it, Bennett! You scurvy dog, inconstant swine... you liar... my opinion!! It's you who keeps our eyes from where... they'd likely get their fill. It's you who keeps us in our caves... ...for darknesses you shill!
So, it's hard to keep on looking into starry, starry skies. The deck has been, then, too well stacked by a *privileged* I decry. Their ridicule is painful; our patience cruelly stressed. Observe: it's asking questions makes a man a "dangerous pest."
I'll still look up, my neck in pain, what else am I to do? There are answers in this vastness, friend, belying what's construed. It's the price of unbound thinking, then, to know the lies been told? And when history is suspect... all bets are off!
Behold!
It's the church, unlawful government...law enforcement mal-entrusted, where media's controlled and their lawyers should be busted. We're at the beck and call, you see, of the hyper-richest's mercies... and these affect life's quality in ways a mite too cursory!
Not to "test," or "exercise", or "to get to murky bottoms"! But "distortion" and "denial"... for "blind eyes" and "ear-hole cotton"! For dismissal of all novelty, a shift that's gaining power—an asymptotic reckoning, too, yawns while brave men cower—these provide to insulate themselves from what they wrought, though the humans of a lesser god be damned to die and rot.
Most don't know they're blinded to our starry, starry nights! Their will, defined by ignorance, precludes they know their rights! We are more than fodder for elitist swine exposed; we don't deserve crass disrespect or that rain that I proposed!
.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«***»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.
...Will I regret wasted time badly spent
ever searching a fathomless space?
Will I admit and despair "wasted moments"
to a mirror I hold to my face?
Will I shake my head sadly
if I find I've been "tooled,"
and the evidence is in...
I was wrong, so daft... a fool?
...Will I regret wasted time badly spent
ever searching a fathomless space?
Will I admit and despair "wasted moments"
to a mirror I hold to my face?
Will I shake my head sadly
if I find I've been "tooled,"
and the evidence is in...
I was wrong, so daft... a fool?
.,¸¸,.»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«***»§«,¸¸,.·´¯`·.,¸¸,.»§«·.,¸¸,.
- lehmberg2002@gmail.com
- http://www.alienview.net/
My intuition says no.
Conversely, many of our founding fathers would most likely be in jail today, put there for egregious crimes against humanity, or strung up by their heels as radical... an ironic result of the egregiously repugnant bunch providing them the most hero worship today…yeah… a broad brush ... but enough paint sticks to illustrate the point.
Regarding what one looks into the sky to see: Why the "other"... or even AN *other*?
Unsettlingly? It can't not be there!
Oh ... I've seen 'em in the morning… ...seen 'em in the evening… seen 'em at supper time! The skies are filled with strangeness! Let 'em stiffen up your spine. [g].
...Why Rhyming? Well, to know I've tried! To stick a finger in the eye of those whom I decry... ...those who'd blithely choose... to rape and plunder. I protect myself from them with my "foot" and "metered rhythm"... ...to hide, in sight, from them, to make small thunder!
See, they can smash you like a bug, shove you, broken, under rugs... make you cry and moan and grieve their impositions... They are soulless, psychopathic, and bereft of any magic. And they funnel fascist fortunes in transgression.
...See, I can't abide their crap. It's as simple, friend, as that. Too, I shan't abide the "dim-bulbed churlish sneerer". I'll eat his face for brunch, and then kick his ass for lunch, then I'll burn his bones for warmth in my December...
~~~
...This'll ooze out anywhere, folks, even in the prose section... unrepentant prosery... no apologies... ...It's what I am—how I insouciantly roll.
...For that face cocked in a reflexive sneer? Gag, pilgrim, on my vinegary bag!
Read on...
No comments:
Post a Comment