This is what girls can do to you. |
Welcome to the lands of smog and pollution; choking our very souls With plastic dreams that swirl Out of pearlescent oils into our hands. Our jukebox journeys are forever accompanied By generic music that excites the soles of our feet But not of our hearts as we beat beat beat Along the street to work, from work, just work it. Challenge nothing that you see or hear or feel; This is the musical message of the man. We see the world in high definition, We project our lives as silver screen. We describe the action “Totes made toast” And drama “Omg she’s such a bitch” All this at a screen near you You will be on the edge of your seats. You will never stop looking at the screen. We soon discover that nobody likes you, You are not famous And the current status of your life is stuck In a monotonous tone of nothing, Beeeeeeep You censor yourself And you realise you are no one If you are not a slut And you do not go on holiday To places where you reveal your tits and ass, And your nipples and cunt don’t squeeze Through the erotic lie of your bikini So that we can dream of fucking you. We wipe away tears as we come Into a state of virtual non-existence. Share with us all of your shiniest memories, Your new car Your new Ipod (white) Your new Ipad (black) Your new Camera Necklace, look how it shines, Your hair’s been cut A picture of your food, it looks spoilt rotten. You’re in a better place than I am. You share all this but hide Your skidmarks And the rash on your cock And the time you thought of your sister Whilst you poked your girlfriend. You hide your insecurities behind your wealth and Blindfold your “friends” from you. You are not free, but the richest of slaves And you buy more chains So that everybody knows that you Are more of a slave than they are. Your chains are the white headphones of your ipod, They are they jewels around your neck And the silver of your watch (You’re chains even make sure you are never late!) Your owner is a harvester of men, Not super-human, but post-human! He has blinded you to your fate and You no longer struggle. You volunteer your wives and children to join his workforce, No! They volunteer themselves And are happy as long as people think they are happy And are only sad in a vague and interesting way And never really sad because they are never hungry Or cold or dying and the only loss they’ve ever suffered Was when their new phone fell in a toilet (so message me on here) as they tweeted about How much fun they are having in the club And how totally wasted they are So that everyone stuck in their homes masturbating and Watching quiz-coms knows they are missing out And their life isn’t as meaningful. There is no inferiority, just varying levels Of superiority. There is no dislike, but indifference. He is more witty, more sexy, more concerned about equality, more aware of third world issues. He is so damn relevant right now- that is why he has 976 friends, and you have a mere 634. You live in fear; you watch, shocked As people attack your master, You condemn them for taking the very objects They are told they need. Enjoy Just do it. Have it your way. Have you ever had a bad time in Levi’s? Just do it Just do it Have it your way There will be no revolution! You are afraid they will remove You from your pretty things And show you that you need but meat and water to survive. In prison you must share your Playstation And you cannot share that Your food has a hair in it. Just wait until you get out And you can have five of your own. An Apple a day keeps the doctor away. Apple will diagnose Apple is the tablet that will cure you So that you can die of cancer Like everybody else. Nothing is certain but life and taxes, But cancer is inevitable, if you do not die of cancer, You’ve died but a child. Your favourite celebrities have cancer. You can be Kylie or Lance and everyone will respect you. It immortalises you, you can do no wrong; You have consumed your body to death, And you’ve already experienced heaven, You helped to create it. It isn’t Microsoft, it is vast and hard. You will die breaking your back for little pieces Of Rockafella’s fortunes, you are a negroe slave In this perennial corporate America that is no Longer restricted to the land across the sea. America is England It is the United Kingdom It is Europe And Asia. America is even China but don’t let them know. America is White and Black and Brown It is warm and furry It is smooth a scaly, Tall mountains and broken glass. It is the sky and the night, Not shooting stars you see but jumbo jets Transporting slaves from the conquered globe. You are the negroe slave freed in none But your own mind. Free to work hard Free to submit Free to pay in order to live. Life is so expensive, why buy it When you can just take it? “La tierra esta la notre.” “La tierra esta la notre.” “La tierra esta la notre.” “La tierra esta la notre.” The earth belongs to us. And like our hearts and brains and mouths we Succeed in ruining its potential. We will not be happy until we are photographed, Sat on a golden desk chair, with a world wide Web of lies at our feet, and a billion “likes”. You smile through the smoke screen Of pollution and irreality, no! Hyper-reality! Now that I am gone you can love me even more, You can show everyone this love; And they do not. We kiss and fuck only in public, And privately no more. We fuck in forums, and you get so wet When you’re sat on my Facebook, Screaming, “I LOVE YOU!” We don’t even have to touch And this makes you happy. Xxxxx Xxxxx Xxxxxxxxx Xxx Xxxxxxx Xxx Xxxxxxxxxxx Xxxxxx Look how much you love me. My face is prettier on your screen than it ever Was up close. And my cock is bigger And I’m much nicer And I only ever have fun And now everyone can see how real I am. How perfectly pixelated I’ve become. You live alone with your money In your capital city And you are in love. You love money You need money You need things And brands And slogans And brainwashing Please brainwash me. Steve Jobs is your Jesus He is your prophet and he brainwashes your feet. He took a giant bite from his Apple of knowledge, He knows more than God! More praise, More influence, More power! This poem is long I wish there was an ad-break. You don’t masturbate or have a fuck buddy For me to be jealous of, But a pay-pal With just one click you can buy new things Shiny things That make you happy in a way I never could. I should have given you more stuff. I gave you comfort And care And love, And I made you come so hard that you nearly cried But when you checked the value of all that on Amazon It came to nothing You bought a new television so you can watch Documentaries about a rainforest Which gets smaller so that you can watch Documentaries about a rainforest And wipe your asshole clean And never have to go and see it for yourself Because someone has done all the exploring for you, And how would you wipe your ass? Watch in horror as I rip this paper in half And feel sorrow for the spending I have lost I will not know the salvation of passing my paper To another poor human being so that they may Also pass it on, and on on on until it finds its home In the pockets of the rich where it will reside for all eternity. Paper is for beautiful poetry sharing It could be beautiful. Even ugly poetry Is more beautiful than death and cold metal. Beauty is reduced To pretend tits and lips, hair that belongs to other animals And long claws the ability to Take three cocks at once, In one hole if you’re a real beauty. We douse her with our praise! You are no longer human But a half-human, half horse hair And plastic hybrid With tits that go pop And a nose that melts Like an ice-cream On the muddy summer shores Of English Benidorm. Only the whores are chastised But they hate their slavery, and know and cry themselves to sleep at night, bruised, still bleeding. You too give your body And lend it to be abused so that rich people Can be have their more more moregasm. Because of this paper people are left to die. Only money is more valuable than a human life And there are those that wish I had torn A baby in two A mother A father Sister Brother in two and watch as their blood and worthless entrails Form the red carpet for our monarchy to walk upon, (I can save your life, a one million dollar cheque Payable to Dr. Shiny Knife) Eternally rich and restless. The hallowed family Which will never be torn in half Because they are money And by Jove I think we love them. All of this has stolen you. It took you with the promise Of a good house So you can have nice things For your nice family For the nice first in Public Services, Even your degree says “slave”! Let me tell you life is for living For enjoying For discovery And passion And love Love Love And living. Open your eyes And your mind And your mouth And your soul And your arms And your legs And let’s make love, And be poor And have souls that can make Us richer and happier than your Capitalist dreams . |