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Look at this perfect puppets,
Their perfect masks,
Their perfect body,
Their perfect feelings,
Their perfect life,
Everything is broken!
Look at this broken puppets,
Their broken masks,
Their broken body,
Their broken feelings,
Their broken life,
Everything is perfect!
RipHearken not to the words
Of the beauteous, ungodly saint,
Or linger like a swimmer
In coagulating paint.
Sharpest nails scrape the night.
Perfect cuticles in your day dreams.
Has all been lost?
There are many things that may be found,
Like insects, wormlings
But that sound...
It infiltrates the sodden ground
To penetrate the coffin bound.
The saint sings on,
Drowning out Nirvana.
yet so ungodly.
Tinkling notes can fill my soul,
but won’t touch it
Have no illusions
- What you cannot attain
Never truly leaves.
Welcome HomeWelcome home
Breath laced with dust of sales,
Turn up the thermostat
We know it’s safe no matter what they say.
Those who digress: for money –
Our attack, defense –
It’s different, what we do –
Fix all we lack
with money, cash and power
or clear the way for others
Here we are and here we will remain
as the image fills the frame
Script and scene, to entertain –
lobotomized for scripted speech:
Honored, glamorized are each
Here we are, with poison speak
Starts to creak on axis.
Like The (Insert Here)Like the BBC
That's not the news for me
Like the Catholic Church
Makes me want to search
Like Federal Government
No need to be hesitant
It is Crazy
Like the NRA
That is not okay
Like the IRS
Conservatives need a test?
Like the press tapping
Why is this happening?
Paranoia and hate
What is going down?
Public option is not there
Like polarization of Washington
Change was what we were hoping
Like the liberals
Why do you create walls?
Like the conservatives
Why do you lack objectives?
Like the American Dream
It isn't want it seems
I present you with a picture.I present you with a picture.
I want you to take a look.
It's two hands interlocked if you didn't know.
Two hands embracing each other.
Take a closer look.
Get in real close.
They are just two hands right?
Two hands among millions, billions even.
No one would look at this picture and say,
Maybe if the hands were coloured differently.
Someone would complain, some racist out there.
But I wouldn't and I know most others wouldn't either.
But that's a shame it's not everyone.
Lets zoom out shall we?
Take in the whole picture.
It's two men.
Or two women.
Do you still think 'it's okay'?
Honestly tell me.
Some would say it's
E. I'm Mad as Hell and I'm Not Going to Take it AnThe entertained are weak minded. I'm starting to think maybe we're addicted to entertainment. Feeling sad and low? Hard day at work? A little stressed? - First thing we collectively do is find the
couch and turn on the TV.
No doubt, a marvelous piece of equipment... but there's a screaming child inside of you that wants to stay up late, want to see just five more minutes....! Inject me right here, gimme five minutes
Ooooooh, I lay down, mind somewhere else, time passing by, doing laps around me like I'm stoned stupid. E, it's so damn good, it'll make you stupid..
It'll make you stupid for hours, it'll make you stupid for a lifetime
Blinded By FaithBlinded By Faith
At the dawn of man
He questioned his world
How did he come to be?
Mythology grew at a pace
Ritual becomes a method of control
Men of power use it to force their will
Blinded by faith
You justify the hate
Religion fuelling bloodshed
In a holy war
It’s God v God
But only man will lose
Huddled over scriptures
The holy man spreads the lies
In those sacred halls
Common sense fears to tread
People flock to hear the word
Leave your brain at the door
As science fills in the puzzle
Of how it all began
You fear you’ll lose your grip
When we have no need for God
So you brainwash your children
That to question faith is w
All die kleinen Tode...All die kleinen Tode, die wir sterben, für die es keine Gräber gibt.
Das Trauertragen abgeschafft.
Zelebrieren wir das Stanzen nach neuen Schablonen.
Einzigartigkeit als Makulatur.
für die Brennöfen der Drehbuchautoren einer feinen Welt.
Kaum, dass wir sehen lernen,
fressen sich alltagstaugliche Masken in unsere Gesichter
bis wir verschmelzen-
Wenn wir lange genug in den Spiegel starren glauben wir es sogar.
Wir brauchen keine Zukunftsvisionen
wir produzieren bereits Maschinen
Ich renne, denn ich bin ausrangiert
der letzte Trauergast
der Tränen kennt
Kuenstliches Komasie wachen niemals auf
das blockierte System vegetiert
in sich verschlossen
keine Anschläge auf Milliardäre
deren nahrungstoxische Fabriken
passive Zombies züchten
Klimakollaps und Betonwüsten
auf das Versprochene beten
wird diese Not entwerfen
weitere zweitausend Jahre vom Monde
eine Welt zu erpressen?
niemand will kämpfen
- bloß warnen -
ist das Massengrab der Blinden
die niemals heraus finden
die unter Obama ihre Lobby
im Senat verdoppeln
seht ihre Taten
und glaubt nicht bezahlten Worten
die Farben des Ozeans sind menschlich
WeltenspielerWer verstehen will muss sich das Menschsein einverleiben.
Ein Abendmahl auf sterbender Muttererde
Aus Schläuchen trinke ich euer Blut, gierig aus den Herzkammern wie Schatzkammern
Mit Zähnen reiße ich das Fleisch heraus
Und knabbere an morschen Knochen wie an DNA-Strängen
Und ihr glaubt ihr hättet euch domestiziert-
Ich bin das Tier
Und schön bin ich dann,
dass ich reihenweise Herzen breche und lache
dass ich an Herrscherpulten goldene Lügen auswerfe
dass ich die Erde mit Kapitalismus tränke
ich bin der Weltenspieler
center of wrong
of the singular
+ skin around
and in them
the internal distortion
of etched images
sie sagen ReformSie sagen Reform
Verschluckung der Hohen zum Aufbau alter Strukturen
Sie sagen Reform
Erstickung aller, als Konsequenz alter Strukturen
Ich sage Horrorvision
Arroganz gepaart mit Dummheit
als Raster, als Weltbild bildloser Ignoranten
Energie verbunden mit Wahnsinn
gegen Köpfe bunter Farbe
Viel zu lange Magersucht
wir verschlucken die Idealisten
Ohren hören, Nerven leiten, Synapsenentgleisung
wir merken uns die Lügen
aber wir bemerken es nicht
Inside This IpodINSIDE THIS IPOD
INSIDE THIS IPOD HAS MUSIC, MUSIC YOU THAT MAKES YOU HAPPY, SAD, ANGRY, AND SOOTHED, YOU MIGHT LIKE THIS MUSIC BUT YOU MIGHT NOT, THE IPOD DOES NOT CARE BECAUSE YOU TOLD IT TO DO WHAT YOU WANT WHEN YOU WANT
INSIDE THIS IPOD HAS PICTURES, PICTURES THAT ARE HAPPY, SAD, ANGRY, AND SOOTHING, YOU MIGHT REMEMBER THEM BUT YOU MIGHT NOT, YOU MIGHT LIKE THEM AND YOU MIGHT NOT, THE IPOD DOES NOT CARE BECAUSE YOU TOLD IT TO DO WHAT YOU WANT WHEN YOU WANT
THIS IPOD HAS MUSIC AND PICTURES IT HAS GAMES AND INTERNET, BUT IT DOES NOT HAVE FEELINGS, IT DOES NOT CARE WHAT YOU WANT BUT IT WILL GET IT IF IT HAS IT, IT DOES NOT KNOW YOU OR WHA
Fellow WorkerRitual bloodletting
Suicide us all
For your failures, your mistakes
Will cost us all
Solidarity will save us
Only if you're brave enough
OppressorsWe tell you how to speak
We tell you how to walk
We tell you how to streak
We tell you how to talk
We want you to listen
We want you to think
You are free
To answer to we
You are special
But not nearly crucial
We don't want your respect
We demand it
We don't ask you to be perfect
We command it
Your choice is our will
Resist, and we kill.
Ten Red BalloonsWhen I was little, my mother and I would go to the park to have picnics. We ate peanut butter jelly sandwiches and drank juice boxes. But we pretended it was tea and crumpets-just like the Queen of England. That's what we were-Queens.
And then, we'd go to a street corner and buy ten red balloons-always red ones, a special price for the large amount.
We'd hand them out-to those who wanted them. But mostly, we'd let them go. Into the sky. A shrinking dot so far away.
I'd hold out my hand, trying to catch them though they were high above me. They looked like cherry tomatoes. Or just plain cherries-the clouds were ice cream.
I missed th
Empty Womb SoldierAn army of empty wombs,
Bearing nothing but an entrance,
And shaking bones,
That crack like campfire,
And a perfumey scent that lacks true odor,
But gives off a certain sweetness,
They guard themselves with a brisk pace,
Muscles tense and eyes all shifty scared,
Hold their keys like weapons,
All the necessary precautions trained into them since birth,
So that should this soldier fall,
She shall gain no purple heart,
Because hearts only go out to her once she's dead and in the dirt,
Empty womb soldier will have made the ultimate sacrifice for her country,
So fleshy bodies can look up from cornbread dinners,
Reflected glassy eyed
Every Angel Deserves a Child"I can't feel the unfurling of my wings, Daddy."
I was not her father. I had entered her life when she was two years old, and she called me Daddy since she never knew her real father. Her mother's death two years ago made me the sole, living parent of an eleven-year-old, and I never felt like I was the right person for the job.
"What do you mean, Asrin?"
"Mom always said that when puberty started I would be the swan that emerged from the ugly duckling. She said I would be able to fly gracefully towards my dreams. But, I don't feel it."
As much of a woman as she was becoming, she was still a child. I wanted to answer her question, but I really had a hard time discussing her blossoming womanhood in the middle of a laundromat. Her pretty eyes were pleading with me, but I told her we'd talk later.
Janet had told Asrin a lot of things before she succumbed to the cancer. The last week or so of Janet's life were morphine-induced fantasy, I think.
Janet and I had met during c
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More