Countless crippled inches of soul crave release
from civilization’s circular marching herd,
metal shoed hooves pounding dirt and grass
like ten-thousand Sioux drumming war
punishing the silent ears of their enemies
choking on screams for mercy as their heads implode;
Under Bill Gates’ trance swarms of ants sit staring
through monitored Windows stained
waiting for God to appear on their computer screens
via www.heaven.com …
…Something’s gone so very wrong;
The truth is blurred and hidden
lost in sounds and television
masked by textbooks facts and proofs,
Look into the reflection pool at foolish eyes
blind to the depths
beneath the rippling wet portrait
swept up in sexy sounds of water and wind;
Let Oprah spew her Harpo gospels to housewives from her studio altar,
‘Get rich quick with a diary of happiness’
hypnotized with a daily helping of hope
tuning in tomorrow every day
their lives are over anyway;
Let MTV sing lullaby’s of teenage conformity and
Ronald McDonald spoon feed our children’s arteries grease
in exchange for buckets of coins
while we watch evolution’s dirty hands wringing
uneducated Americans last few breaths
from humanity’s stretched out neck;
Thank you Ford, thanks GM, thanks US Steel,
Visa-MasterCard, thanks International Paper,
and oh yeah God,
thanks for finally attacking us back
for our thoughtless ungracious ravaging of your creation;
What’s that swollen sound of sobbing heard
echoing out of ancient caves forgotten
Is this real? or just another ploy
plotted in the bubble-bath of an MGM CEO
by a billionaire greedy to count the smell
of my bank accounts last one hundred bills;
Oil and the Presidency, Big Energy and the House,
the Senate’s built on golden bricks and
balls of men their supposed to defend,
men rooted in humanity’s search for fulfillment
seekers driven mad by something
other than green paper with another man’s face on it;
Drinking what they write, loving who they fight
helping who they fuck, dreaming of what they hate,
they let their passion fill their lives with holiness
and they are not afraid;
The moon is invisible once the sun has risen and
with eyes poked blind man sees nothing except himself
whole soul grasping truth with senseless bleeding hands,
only one number remains when all others are subtracted
only you remain in others absence;
We’ve missed the bulls-eye hung inside
but they haven’t,
they’ve bought the rights to it from gods and
sold it to infinite telemarketing venues;
We’re prisoners to our starving insatiable senses
and the mass-market’s manipulation of them;
We’re prisoners to our paychecks, slaves to our bosses
landlords, tax collectors, governors, etc., etc., etc.;
are we sick of it yet?
Does your stomach cramp bubbling turning sour
during Friends or Political Primaries?
Does your head throb in back virgin tight
ears ringing bells—eyes stinging needles
as you approach your job, checkbook, or pen?
Does your soul waver flickering unstable as a ghost on LSD,
sick of the world but tied to it somehow
by a Golden Rope every Capitalist wants to find and steal
but it’s missing within unknown even to you?
I hope you find it first!
That rope is priceless tied to your front-door
when pulled a swinging wave of pure mountain air
refreshes your suffocating mind
erupting into a symphony of ordered anarchy and the
snake dances into the wicked shape of a noose
knotted as the ghost taps footloose below;
A prophetic rooster’s caw is heard beyond a reddened horizon
all of a sudden
in a breath taking instant
the throne is tipped
the darkness is lifted;
Long live the day after infinite nights!
Let the coins fall And the sun shine in.
from civilization’s circular marching herd,
metal shoed hooves pounding dirt and grass
like ten-thousand Sioux drumming war
punishing the silent ears of their enemies
choking on screams for mercy as their heads implode;
Under Bill Gates’ trance swarms of ants sit staring
through monitored Windows stained
waiting for God to appear on their computer screens
via www.heaven.com …
…Something’s gone so very wrong;
The truth is blurred and hidden
lost in sounds and television
masked by textbooks facts and proofs,
Look into the reflection pool at foolish eyes
blind to the depths
beneath the rippling wet portrait
swept up in sexy sounds of water and wind;
Let Oprah spew her Harpo gospels to housewives from her studio altar,
‘Get rich quick with a diary of happiness’
hypnotized with a daily helping of hope
tuning in tomorrow every day
their lives are over anyway;
Let MTV sing lullaby’s of teenage conformity and
Ronald McDonald spoon feed our children’s arteries grease
in exchange for buckets of coins
while we watch evolution’s dirty hands wringing
uneducated Americans last few breaths
from humanity’s stretched out neck;
Thank you Ford, thanks GM, thanks US Steel,
Visa-MasterCard, thanks International Paper,
and oh yeah God,
thanks for finally attacking us back
for our thoughtless ungracious ravaging of your creation;
What’s that swollen sound of sobbing heard
echoing out of ancient caves forgotten
Is this real? or just another ploy
plotted in the bubble-bath of an MGM CEO
by a billionaire greedy to count the smell
of my bank accounts last one hundred bills;
Oil and the Presidency, Big Energy and the House,
the Senate’s built on golden bricks and
balls of men their supposed to defend,
men rooted in humanity’s search for fulfillment
seekers driven mad by something
other than green paper with another man’s face on it;
Drinking what they write, loving who they fight
helping who they fuck, dreaming of what they hate,
they let their passion fill their lives with holiness
and they are not afraid;
The moon is invisible once the sun has risen and
with eyes poked blind man sees nothing except himself
whole soul grasping truth with senseless bleeding hands,
only one number remains when all others are subtracted
only you remain in others absence;
We’ve missed the bulls-eye hung inside
but they haven’t,
they’ve bought the rights to it from gods and
sold it to infinite telemarketing venues;
We’re prisoners to our starving insatiable senses
and the mass-market’s manipulation of them;
We’re prisoners to our paychecks, slaves to our bosses
landlords, tax collectors, governors, etc., etc., etc.;
are we sick of it yet?
Does your stomach cramp bubbling turning sour
during Friends or Political Primaries?
Does your head throb in back virgin tight
ears ringing bells—eyes stinging needles
as you approach your job, checkbook, or pen?
Does your soul waver flickering unstable as a ghost on LSD,
sick of the world but tied to it somehow
by a Golden Rope every Capitalist wants to find and steal
but it’s missing within unknown even to you?
I hope you find it first!
That rope is priceless tied to your front-door
when pulled a swinging wave of pure mountain air
refreshes your suffocating mind
erupting into a symphony of ordered anarchy and the
snake dances into the wicked shape of a noose
knotted as the ghost taps footloose below;
A prophetic rooster’s caw is heard beyond a reddened horizon
all of a sudden
in a breath taking instant
the throne is tipped
the darkness is lifted;
Long live the day after infinite nights!
Let the coins fall And the sun shine in.