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Puppets

Look at this perfect puppets,
Their perfect masks,
Their perfect body,
Their perfect feelings,
Their perfect life,
Everything is broken!
Look at this broken puppets,
Their broken masks,
Their broken body,
Their broken feelings,
Their broken life,
Everything is perfect!

Like The (Insert Here)Like the BBC
That's not the news for me
Like the Catholic Church
Makes me want to search
Like Federal Government
No need to be hesitant
Like Benghazi
It is Crazy
Like the NRA
That is not okay
Like the IRS
Conservatives need a test?
Like the press tapping
Why is this happening?
Like Watergate
Paranoia and hate
Like Newtown
What is going down?
Like Obama-care
Public option is not there
Like polarization of Washington
Change was what we were hoping
Like the liberals
Why do you create walls?
Like the conservatives
Why do you lack objectives?
Like the American Dream
It isn't want it seems

I present you with a picture.I present you with a picture.
I want you to take a look.

It's two hands interlocked if you didn't know.
Two hands embracing each other.

Take a closer look.
Get in real close.

They are just two hands right?
Two hands among millions, billions even.

No one would look at this picture and say,
'That's wrong'

Maybe if the hands were coloured differently.
Someone would complain, some racist out there.

But I wouldn't and I know most others wouldn't either.
But that's a shame it's not everyone.

Lets zoom out shall we?
Take in the whole picture.

It's two men.
Or two women.

Do you still think 'it's okay'?
Honestly tell me.

Some would say it's

Blinded By FaithBlinded By Faith

At the dawn of man
He questioned his world
How did he come to be?
Mythology grew at a pace
Ritual becomes a method of control
Men of power use it to force their will

Blinded by faith
You justify the hate
Religion fuelling bloodshed
In a holy war
It’s God v God
But only man will lose

Huddled over scriptures
The holy man spreads the lies
In those sacred halls
Common sense fears to tread
People flock to hear the word
Leave your brain at the door

As science fills in the puzzle
Of how it all began
You fear you’ll lose your grip
When we have no need for God
So you brainwash your children
That to question faith is w

All die kleinen Tode...All die kleinen Tode, die wir sterben, für die es keine Gräber gibt.
Das Trauertragen abgeschafft.
Zelebrieren wir das Stanzen nach neuen Schablonen.
Einzigartigkeit als Makulatur.
für die Brennöfen der Drehbuchautoren einer feinen Welt.
Kaum, dass wir sehen lernen,
fressen sich alltagstaugliche Masken in unsere Gesichter
bis wir verschmelzen-
Wenn wir lange genug in den Spiegel starren glauben wir es sogar.
Wir brauchen keine Zukunftsvisionen
wir produzieren bereits Maschinen
Ich renne, denn ich bin ausrangiert
der letzte Trauergast
der Tränen kennt

Kuenstliches Komasie wachen niemals auf

das blockierte System vegetiert
in sich verschlossen

keine Anschläge auf Milliardäre
deren nahrungstoxische Fabriken
passive Zombies züchten

Klimakollaps und Betonwüsten
im Sinne
der Unter-Gangs-Propheten
auf das Versprochene beten

wieviel Profit
wird diese Not entwerfen
weitere zweitausend Jahre vom Monde
eine Welt zu erpressen?

niemand will kämpfen
- bloß warnen -

Verständnis
ist das Massengrab der Blinden
die niemals heraus finden

selbstoperierende Zellen
gegen Kartelle
die unter Obama ihre Lobby
im Senat verdoppeln

seht ihre Taten
und glaubt nicht bezahlten Worten

...
die Farben des Ozeans sind menschlich
d

WeltenspielerWer verstehen will muss sich das Menschsein einverleiben.
Ein Abendmahl auf sterbender Muttererde
Aus Schläuchen trinke ich euer Blut, gierig aus den Herzkammern…wie Schatzkammern
Mit Zähnen reiße ich das Fleisch heraus
Und knabbere an morschen Knochen wie an DNA-Strängen
Und ihr glaubt ihr hättet euch domestiziert-
Ich bin das Tier…

Und schön bin ich dann,
dass ich reihenweise Herzen breche und lache
und eloquent,
dass ich an Herrscherpulten goldene Lügen auswerfe
und unersättlich,
dass ich die Erde mit Kapitalismus tränke

ich bin der Weltenspieler

Welcome HomeWelcome home
Never left.
Breath laced with dust of sales,
Turn up the thermostat

Welcome home
We know it’s safe no matter what they say.
Those who digress: for money –
No contention

Welcome home
Our attack, defense –
minuscule, immense.
It’s different, what we do –

Welcome home.
Fix all we lack
with money, cash and power
or clear the way for others

Welcome home,
Here we are and here we will remain
as the image fills the frame
Script and scene, to entertain –

Welcome home.
Hollow eyes
lobotomized for scripted speech:
Honored, glamorized are each

Here we are, with poison speak
Starts to creak on axis.

Inside This IpodINSIDE THIS IPOD

INSIDE THIS IPOD HAS MUSIC, MUSIC YOU THAT MAKES YOU HAPPY, SAD, ANGRY, AND SOOTHED, YOU MIGHT LIKE THIS MUSIC BUT YOU MIGHT NOT, THE IPOD DOES NOT CARE BECAUSE YOU TOLD IT TO DO WHAT YOU WANT WHEN YOU WANT

INSIDE THIS IPOD HAS PICTURES, PICTURES THAT ARE HAPPY, SAD, ANGRY, AND SOOTHING, YOU MIGHT REMEMBER THEM BUT YOU MIGHT NOT, YOU MIGHT LIKE THEM AND YOU MIGHT NOT, THE IPOD DOES NOT CARE BECAUSE YOU TOLD IT TO DO WHAT YOU WANT WHEN YOU WANT

THIS IPOD HAS MUSIC AND PICTURES IT HAS GAMES AND INTERNET, BUT IT DOES NOT HAVE FEELINGS, IT DOES NOT CARE WHAT YOU WANT BUT IT WILL GET IT IF IT HAS IT, IT DOES NOT KNOW YOU OR WHA

Fellow WorkerRitual bloodletting
Suicide us all
For your failures, your mistakes
Will cost us all
Solidarity will save us
Only if you're brave enough
Fellow Worker

OppressorsWe tell you how to speak
We tell you how to walk
We tell you how to streak
We tell you how to talk

We want you to listen
And Obey
We want you to think
This way

You are free
To answer to we
You are special
But not nearly crucial

We don't want your respect
We demand it
We don't ask you to be perfect
We command it

Your choice is our will
Resist, and we kill.

The StageYour life is a play,
And you are the lead;
So don your mask
And let the show begin.

Don't forget your lines.
Follow the script.
There's no room for improvisation here.

Play your part well.
Don't let your mask slip.
Nobody cares who you are under there.

Lie through your teeth.
We all do it;
We must.
Learn quick,
Learn well;
There's no one here you can trust.

When the curtains rise
We all hide,
Lest they see our true souls.
And the audience,
They will love us,
As long as we stick to our roles.

The world is the stage,
And your life tonight's amusement;
Son don your lies,
Hide your self deep within.

PrizePrize

The dead bodies line the hallway
No one has won
Though there was no prize
Just Your Greed

ReligionReligion

Your religion has become a weapon for your hate
What happened to it being a tool of love?
When did grace and mercy equal damnation?
Where is your spite born from? Pray tell!

-consistent hope- as i mentor-consistent hope-

as i mentor my madness
i grow sick with a sadness
as i age I am lonely
praying for my only

to shine light in my shadows
piercing like arrows
an uninterrupted peace
brought forth from release

a new reason for motivation
a change in my station
its something to wait for
need only knock at my door

as i endure
i ponder my cure
i seek my next chapter
for the heart i may be the captor.

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Submitted: August 29, 2012
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League of morons

by ~rsjessen, Aug 29, 2012, 4:34:11 AM
Literature / Poetry / Sociopolitical / Free Verse

Du siger vi er idioter.

En samling af traditionstro, automatiske, kartoffel- og brunsovs-spisende robotter. Vi sidder omkring middagsbordet, snakker over, taler rundt, det går i ring, bliver ved.
Vi kommer ingen vejene.

"Det er det de vil ha'", siger du, "vi bliver hvor vi er."

Vi snakker gerne op og ned; "sikke noget lort, det burde stoppe, fuck det hele", men vi rejser os ikke fra lænestolen. Vi bliver fanget i frustrationerne, synker langsomt i sumpen. Kviksandet kvæler os. Selv ikke de villige rør sig ud af flækken.

Nogle gemmer sig bag stolthed, det er dansk, det er godt. Flaget blæser i vinden. Sommer og sol, havet, blæsten og duft af kapriol.

Andre vil skrige og slå, men er bange. Bange for faldet, bange for magt, bange for at mislykkes, bange for succes. Intet bliver gjort, for intet vil gøres.

Du siger vi er idioter.

Vi samler os omkring middagsbordet, med kartofler og brunsovs. Nogle gange med rødbeder.

"Men det er okay," siger du "for vi kan være idioter sammen. Lad os lave en klub. Forbudt for piger og forbudt for drenge. Forbudt for alle, end os idiotiske remulade-danskere. Lad os samle vores kammerater."

Rødbeder

Bruns sovs

Og

Kartofler.

Vi er The league of morons.

League of moronsby ~rsjessen

Literature / Poetry / Sociopolitical / Free Verse

Jeg er så heldig at gå på Testrup højskoles skrivelinje, og i dag så vi et klip fra filmen "League of Morons" som inspirerede mig til at skrive det her. Enjoy