Category: Poetry

  • The Nature of the Machine

    You were born, and you moved and wanted.
    But what you wanted, left them all haunted.

    You had dreams, but they were rearranged.
    They were unproductive, you were manged.

    They plugged you in and sat you down.
    A system saw value in a child’s frown.

    They say, “a serious world with a serious task.”
    What is it? Who knows! Please don’t ask!

    You became a product to make products.
    To go over numbers, sheets, and audits.

    Given a reward, you were programmed to get.
    So that you become a sad, stupid pet.

    Go through the pleasure belt and don’t think.
    Can’t you see life is just an achievement kink?

    There is no fault, though it seems lots and lots.
    After all, it is just robots making robots.

    What were the dreams you had as a child?
    Back when you weren’t yet trained to be so mild.

    Do you have any dreams that are still your own?
    Or only the ones they gave on profitable loan?

    Just get to the top, prance and preen.
    Yes, this is the nature of the machine.

  • From Breath to Death

    How can anyone really see through my eyes,
    When my words and thoughts are filled with lies?

    How can I assume what sits in your heart,
    When we have been different from the start?

    How can I love the world and the people all around,
    When love for myself has been trapped underground?

    How can I have hope for the coming future,
    When my understanding of the past is impure?

    How can I conquer my fears of death,
    When I haven’t taken a single breath?

  • The Fishing Rod

    Hell can be a fun place,
    Pleasure throughout the space.

    Hell is a spot to learn,
    Your identity earned.

    As the Devil is God,
    He is the fishing rod.

    You need both in your life,
    To make yourself your wife.

    It’s a confusing tale,
    Repeating without fail.

    It is the tale of you,
    Please try to get the clue.

  • Killing Jesus Christ, The American Superstar

    It is a story that is told in your village and mine,

    A story that exists within the sacred body’s shrine.

    A story of the Hero, oh so devout and strong,

    And what I will ask you to do, might seem a bit wrong.

    This story is different all throughout the world,

    A story with various details as it is unfurled.

    In my modern home, the Hero wears many faces,

    Ah yes, in America, the Hero covers all the bases.

    The Hero is Jesus, but more than what is told in the Bible,

    Ah yes, the American Hero Jesus is a whole lot more tribal.

    He is great at football and fitness and sports,

    And he is a masculine man, so he never wears shorts.

    He owns a house with a nicely painted fence,

    And his accounting is perfect, never losing two cents.

    His family really loves him, don’t forget the cuddly dog too,

    And a Mexican helps with the yard and especially the poo.

    Jesus wears a big cape with the Stars and Stripes,

    Drugs? He wouldn’t be caught dead with those types!

    Beer is of course fine, he is truly a man,

    But too fruity of drinks aren’t ever in his plan.

    Lastly, he is rich! And he worked hard to earn it,

    When he was a kid, he never learned “quit”. 

    He is the American Hero! He isn’t the only one.

    In America there are many Heroes, doubling the fun.

    If you should see this Hero, somewhere in your mind, 

    I have only one recommendation, once you make the find.

    Sneak up slowly behind, the Hero might hear you come,

    After all the Hero is smart, no one ever makes him dumb.

    Carry a knife, and make it hidden under your shirt,

    For you are about to make a stab, and yes, it will hurt.

    Slit his throat, as he is looking the other way,

    And watch the Hero’s blood go off with a spray.

    He falls to the ground, looking you in the eyes,

    Still with a smile is how this Hero dies.

    The Hero is dead, American Jesus is gone!

    And now, in your mind, a new God will dawn.

    For God is not interested in your imitation,

    Thus making Heroes everyone’s limitation.

    Kill the Hero! Before it is too late,

    For the real you is not bound to his fate.

    Carry your Cross! The only one you got,

    Not a single Hero’s Cross needs to be brought.