This is the 21st Century
Where it seems the masses
Are still placed on this Earth
To serve the upper classes,
Feed their acquisitive appetites
Wipe their delicate arses,
And all in all perpetuate
That longest of running farces,
Respect for so called betters,
Eating crumbs from their table
Serving with dedication
For as long as they are able
Until comes that day
They can no longer try
Then have the decency
To just crawl off and die.
Its the same the world over
Every where you can go
The system is dedicated
To maintain the status quo
Is god still in his heaven?
Will we all get an entry pass
So we can continue serving
That heavenly upper class.
What is this god of mine?
That I’ve constructed to reveal,
My brimming hopes and my real glances,
My bright intentions and all my farces,
For him to befriend me in prances.
This imaginary friend beckons me to procure,
Stability for my everyday goings on,
And so he can’t be a preexistent god,
But only one human’s invention,
A product of many post societies,
And so a mirror of contemporary adulation.
I ask him about my cousins,
And what i should weekly buy,
At the supermarket of much choice,
Asking him to soothe my voice.
But pure action does not need questioned,
The daily is your business,
Because we well with good intentions,
Not voids of the insidious.
I talk to him, or her, each day,
To connect with my future destiny,
Dismissing today’s science and research,
Into tomorrow’s ailment i suffer from silently.
Only, the finger of god never occurred,
But apparently nothing existed,
To build life, space and minerals,
To create sex and make intelligence,
And negotiate the detested.
A damsel longed for a knight
a man to fight to fight for her causes
with whom she could love and unite
To be with for eternity
to kiss him under the arches
a damsel longed for a knight
A fine brave warrior to fight
protect her from evil witches
with whom she could love and unite
Dance a few reels with tonight
wearing a dress with fine brooches
a damsel longed for a knight
A knight to help her feel safer
a man who would spare her farces
with whom she could love and unite
At last she met her shining knight
together alone she blushes
a damsel longed for a knight
with whom she could love and unite
Faces, farces, frames and fragments,
following, fumbling and floating;
no vernal blossoms,
no fountain,
a fiction whirls in a fraction,
a fusion.
A fetish,
frozen and fallen;
a fossil, a forest,
a feeling,
flash and flaunt
the fluroscence.
Then weakened is the flame
and withered is the feather,
in the careless commotion
of fingers.