A man lies seated with tears brimming his eyes,
Hands and feet tied behind him,
Mouth, taped over;
He is being forced to watch,
Yet do or say nothing,
Before him, lady justice is being molested,
Look closely:
In his tears,
You can see the death of liberty,
That fan the embers of anarchy.
I am not an actor in a play
I am not here purely to get paid
My reactions may be an overreaction
It’s cause I can’t be subtle
When the stakes are this high!
Commit to memory
Everything you picked up in your trajectory
Don’t come down to land
Until you’ve done all that you can
As these are what you have
When your quieter days
Outnumber the hectic ones
The ropes that tie my heart in knots
Stretch taut and strain
As my heart swells
Against the bonds that restrain love
These ropes cut like blades ‘n’ bleed profusely
For, death is a relief without
The freedom to love!
Collect all of your happy
In one basket of merry
Drench it in port cherry
And plenty of alchy bevys
Neck it down in one
To make your mind swim
In a wad of sticky honey
Floating to the surface
With all the other intoxicated fishes
For this is a union of bliss,
An orgy for the masses,
Jumping in tandem in the mosh pit of life
To reach the ultimate group high
Then even out on the plateau
And steer each other gently on the decline
Bringing you back to reality
Without a hiccup
Rather than tripping,
While skipping steps,
On the spiral stairway down
‘Cause them be friends,
You’d do good to keep around
This is my election despair song,
Hating both main candidates song,
I’m not supporting either of you song,
I’m voting green!
Cause no one else seems to be representing me!
Words are too literal
And thus distract
Whereas instrumentals alone
Tap into the metaphysical
And influences the direction of your soul
Without you even knowing it.
Great plains,
Frozen lakes,
Dirt-smeared faces,
Crawling on all fours,
Pledging fealty,
In both fear and desperation;
To he who occupies,
The raised dias,
Great King of Kings,
Kubalai Khan!
The eternal blue sky’s mandate to conquer,
He inherited,
The diversity of his empire,
He embraced,
Through the prism of violent barbarity of his culture,
He enforced his authority
Throughout eternity does his deeds echo,
And the cog that turns the myth into legend,
Is studded with savage barbs,
To scar and bloody any who venture near,
For all time.
Her one night stand called her a whore as she left in acrimony,
Her emotions see-sawed between indignity and anger,
That word however clung and sunk into her skin on the commute home,
Admitedly, she approached him like prey
‘Cause she wanted a lay,
And she fancied a bit of rough,
But did not want to leave her number with him to pretend it was anything more,
She was frank, forthright, upfront and graphic about her needs,
He fucked her like a whore and treated her like one too,
As she lay struggling to catch her breath post-coitus,
He called her a ‘passable fuck’ and flung a scrunched up £10 note at her to give to her ‘fella’ as a tip,
It dawned on her that while she was playing her part-
Like eating an exotic meal with chopsticks or bare hands just for the sheer thrill of it-
He was not;
Offended, she swung out,
He moved out of the path of the swing, whispered the word through a smirk, as he pushed her back onto the bed,
Before exiting the room laughing like a manic hyena;
Now, she’s showered half a dozen times,
Scrubbed herself near raw,
Yet…she can’t seem to shake the unclean feeling that’s settled in;
She called a trusted friend seeking comfort,
The friend, listened intently, and replied,
‘When you sleep with dogs hun,’
‘Don’t be surprised if you wake up with flees!’