"Taking himself seriously, so you don't have to."

Escape from the Land of Dreams, or, Lighting Fire in a New World – In Five Parts

Part I:

 

Absolute, you do

Utmost, of course

Rewards your chores

Cleans the floors.

 

More doors beyond static wars

Deceptive reception, explanation obsolescence

Consolidated effervescence

Due more, indebted lessons.

 

Youth source, storm course

Expressing vivisection, dissecting the abstract intravenous

Fountain success

Reanimating momentum, invitational deference continuum

 

Goals extoll, vitriol

Twin visage, explicit spirit

Effects access to it

Reverend asked you to submit habit, rabbit, just frantic static, prophetic eclectic, composite of logical intentional action-in-preparation, verifying and complying and pressing, on against divested interests foment cool, accepting divergence.

 

Part II:

 

The question of politics is answered with a mirror.

 

The mirror will give or deny responsibility on attitude alone.

 

A step a year by you seems little,

but look to your left and right, and

take the hand of another,

and your solitary walk becomes a marching armada.

 

The debate is over.

Fruits come through progress toward brighter future.

What can you do?

Rock on, walk on, my friends.

Rock and roll, walk and extoll and

beat on the wall til a crack.

Take your future BACK.

 

I don’t know you, not where you’re from or your personal habit.

But I know you want.

Sometimes hard to see

through miasma of abstract bleeding greed.

I see all drink it freely,

first come first thirst, but

vampires do not give birth.

Sure, eternal life would be nice, but

wooden stakes and pitchforks through castle walls slice.

 

America’s entitled, not to the good life,

Means little to most,

sheltered and clothed since birth,

Rather, elevated attitude,

a position above

to look down and judge.

Opinionated minutiae cause collective grin,

for the win.

The general ordered by the drill sergeant,

twisted to fight in the trenches.

Absurd the fight obvious,

over a no man’s land not worth the losses, and

unwinnable debates rage between sides split on the causes.

You waste your breath

for our entertainment.

 

All legitimacy disregarded, and

justice flattered for cheeky dimples on her forced smile,

above a torso dead and bloated,

Frankenstein’s wizardry used against better judgment,

square pegs in round holes.

the normal force reverses course,

the catastrophic event

eventuates, but

instead of prepare,

we play games of truth or dare,

where trust is divided,

the dare is derided,

the act on display debated,

opinionated voyeurism takes time wasted.

resources depleted with steady hands,

the brand says;

get your aggression out on that punching bag,

ignore the man behind the curtain,

it’s certain,

youth’s anger’s root is this perversion.

 

He’ll tell you,

and bribe you,

put you in the iron maiden,

cause your derision.

He knows your inner workings,

he’s seen brain scannings,

and psychological manipulation

intersocially,

easy to see,

practiced since the 50′s.

 

He’s such a taste for it,

he’ll make you want it, this psychological abuse,

but soon as you use a piece, he’ll use the whole pie against you.

Soon as you know yourself, he’ll have known you sooner.

We’re predictable, you see, on the whole, endlessly.

Sorry to break it to you, but the more you know,

the less of you

the man can screw.

 

But better yet, take a tip from me;

see, the system’s predictable deductively,

human action or opinion observed inductively;

meaning, we’re cornered into a “percentage-likely”.

But the system’s mechanisms operate with certainty.

 

The machine is restricted logically, but there is no limit to human potentiality.

 

Part III:

 

Weaker words disappear

behind the quakening wave,

they point in the direction we crave

that equilibrium, that adamantium-like state,

“to be a rock and not to roll”,

“hang on to yourself,”

your health, and your soul.

 

I’m about to drop all pretense,

demolish the fence,

an obstacle waiting

for the end of its heyday.

Stand and deliver

your best measure!

 

Where have we, indeed, been?

 

Through protozoic past,

depth in history deeper than any cleaver,

the very definition and the truth of man,

beginning defined, a line,

some date at which inclined.

And after, as stories begun,

we sing, we sung, our historical leverage,

we find increased message, as we read and write,

the good tidings

find their way on screen,

they come together and with intent,

laid out before all to see,

independent of geography.

 

freedom from is more negative,

that freedom to, by extension,

independent toward some score.

What handicap? More a reminder.

 

On through history,

empires to kings,

onward crossed freedom’s crest,

ride that ever-wave on,

fling Caesars off towers,

kings drop from cliff hangings,

we took our people’s birth writings.

Lining, bed made parade.

Always stayed within history;

when you gave a redder day,

they, we, made always.

Defining systems and social compacts,

Political and abstract.

 

Part III – Part “B”:

 

Wheels lead at speeds

akin to their leanings,

curving with force directional.

 

Skidding along railings.

 

What laws unchangeable?

Scraping the grindstone railing,

and repeating,

degrading its state.

 

Such that, the path you make,

outside imposed lines,

pushes forth, through barriers,

you rail skaters.

 

Grind to the bone

Grind to the bone

Grind to the bone

Grind to the bone!

 

But I digress,

you good folks amassed,

we’ve important business at hand,

we might best exchange land.

 

Much to be said,

subsequently read.

Making bread? Swords onward to plowshares,

another volunteer a day, life gained / time plant-ing,

like someone planned it.

 

Much more to be said here,

but we continue toward,

the event of seers,

the land of dreamers,

ascend the height never imaginable,

grand vistas and stark visage.

Ride the wind!

You won’t regret it.

 

Past decades influence better grades,

experience gained where highest stake,

we’ve bet on our progress,

an accelerating mess.

 

But wound spool renewal,

ora borus triple cylindrical,

spatial dimensions rotations.

Now try the ‘T’,

temporal twister,

time turner,

single directional flow,

knowledge offering more

than other definitions,

mitigate and mitigate away

the irrational opinionated enclaves.

 

Between competing forces we lie, a stye,

chaotic / ordered,

by extension our forces,

our best approximation of the divisive powers,

simply explained to all who keep their eyes arrayed.

 

Dropping all pretense as insistence,

returning to the point,

the point of focus,

bounced back to, and now onward,

toward ever-resurgence.

 

Part IV:

 

Cleaning out the past is a long dance, longer still with every regret made in the present.

 

The future’s a now, shifting, stacking broken floors atop crumbling ceiling.

 

Paying for a past regenerating with scientifically-weaponized spirit engineering.

 

Past mistakes awake a monster

feeding on what is now slaughter,

presently-known improper imposter.

 

The shape of things to come:

floating cities lifted by cloud formations,

height no object, polymers my friends,

made from oil wasted daily,

our daily drive toward disaccord;

making what future we take, and bake, to create;

to save truly limited, valuable resource;

spent to no good end, shitty trend,

better left to storage sheds.

 

The shape of things to come:

our understanding’s taking a pounding;

we’ll be flippin’ our shit,

if you know it, “fortunate

son”, you better see the light in front of thee,

that shines a golden birth of beautiful new earth,

like paradise, it cries your wandering eyes,

it cries “those eyes cry every night for you”,

a morrow lies beyond your wandering eyes,

 

we will live to see the city,

repeat after me,

we will live to see the city.

 

Part V:

 

No need to pity.

 

Little by little our future, lo and behold,

just like a hundred years ago,

you see, our collective energy, creativity,

operates slower than we relate.

We perceive consumable dreams,

and think we’ve seen all that can be.

The end of history?

All’s been done only if you think extra-temporally.

 

But that is not today, and it is not tomorrow.

That thought’s better reserved escaping sorrow.

But when velocity reached, jettison restrictive weights, and

meet the vacuum of space without hamstrings.

 

You dreamers, always pushing the boundaries,

expanding the surroundings,

prepping troops to explore uncharted territories.

The time is now to end your fictional wanderings,

pack your saddle bags,

ride the rising tide to lands

only seen in mind.

And don’t just take my word for it,

there is historical precedent.

“Everything has been invented already”,

to paraphrase a quote from 1890.

Advancement-capable in every single category.

But we lack willful responsibility.

Better to leave difficulties to corporate entities and governmental agencies,

of course they have our best interests at heart,

forty years of reduced purchasing power with longer hours,

chipping away every advance we make,

wrangling us into pens made of emperor’s invisible gates.

 

The end?

 

It does not need to be this way.

 

The shape of things to come:

inverting the pyramid represents transference.

Only question is how bloody a revolt hence:

dog and pony trampling calamity to finality,

or honest institution, with trouble only temporary.

 

The longer we wait; the less, a choice, it will be.

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