Saturday, November 30, 2013

Jeremy- Three Poems

Cradle Guard

automaton prime
you indoctrinate us blind
feeding on the fine
fueling it with crime
do you think about our future
when you plan on your own time

automaton prime
did you see good language die
do you know what's in our eyes
living such a lie
avoiding real solution
so your cradle guard can fly

automaton prime
defining reason and rhyme
drawing every line
crafting every sign
spread this addiction
in our infant information
captured our attention
with cosmic valuation
spoiled our existence
by extreme anticipation
neglecting all creation
symphonizing circulation
orchestrating automation

selfish is defined
monsterously blind
more entangled through time
we're all in this together
our turn to face the weather
without breaks or rewinding
it takes all reminding

every day is today
for the love

Conscious Evolution

Good that we have created games to keep our fight challenged, without having to harm ourselves, for what would we be able to become without fight?

Rats deprived of physical and social play become less intelligent at problem solving; compare this with our society that causes us to avoid and alienate each other, living in boxes and brainwashed into a slave machine that supports the absurdly indulgent of power through an invention of money, information and law. Good and evil don't actually exist, only consciousness in a transition of birth from the animal ego, with arbitrary intelligence.

Such an honorable daydream of humanity is used to distract us from an overpopulation that flows with an addiction to comfort, taken advantage by disqualifying a circulatory wisdom. Free education is not only about the opportunity for people to earn their power through understanding, but so truth can be uncensored, that reality can prevail.

Only shedding light can ever solve a problem, as truth inverses evil.

They think sacrifice gives power, that to be rich you must have the poor, but it's a tyrannical fantasy to justify slavery, an apotheosis of ego, the vindictive monster of vanity. Inventions of terrorism and the illusion that strangers want to hurt you is keeping this machine well oiled; we are gears, turning against each other, as our hope is being worn like a mask.

What army could possibly be stronger than an intelligent, healthy and loving people? Art is better when it's not trying to be something because then it can make the best of itself.

Lobster Monster

blooded beyond unrealistic surrender
bothered by a profound pretender
engendering this cosmic doubt
a runaway train on a suicide route
why die now - when bound to find out

the insurmountable coercion of time
confirming the wisdom of nature
thrusting untappedly - this mortality
to swim with sharks and join brutality

eyes voracious by rapacious thought
bone and flesh by sand and rock
a tear rolls and rips and drops
no message is sent not wickedly bent
by benevolent twist it stops

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