Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Lonely
Lonely,
As the phone that rings out.
As curtains billow in the breeze.
As an itch takes hold of the neck.
Lonely.
Only as those who cannot be alone.
Only as those who need company.
Only as those who cannot stand themselves.
Lonely.
As the dark is hung with swollen clouds.
As the restless move their hands and feet.
As the desperate speak long conversation.
Lonely.
As cigarette smoke.
As a single wooden chair.
As a barren cupboard.
Lonely.
As the rumours of others.
As the need for acceptance.
As constant reassurance.
Lonely.
Only as pathetic is lonely.
Only as a sensitive little weakling.
Only as a little creep of self-pity.
Lonely.
As a persistent caller.
As the phone rings out.
As there are no answers.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
La Société du spectacle.
The Revolution of everyday life
shall begin with every body sleeping in...
Only when man and woman
have slept in unexpectedly
shall they truly experience
a momentary glimpse of life
outside of
Spectacular Society!
O lament!
The Petty Squabbles of Neighbours Rights.
The Fiasco of Private Parking in Busy Streets.
The Council's Permission for building extensions.
The Taxation of Absolute Resources.
O sing to the possibility!
The Garden lawns of Absolute Community.
The Garden Furniture of Parochial Civility.
The Pure Governance of Garages and Sheds.
The Hedges and Sheers of Natural Reality.
Afterall this has been considered
We shall meet on the barricades
After brushing our teeth hurriedly
Rushing past as the local police officer
reminds you:
'Wrong era, Sir...
must have been a simulation...
nostalgia from an old film...
memories of something better...
a myth of gossip...
it happens to all of us...
Good Day...'
shall begin with every body sleeping in...
Only when man and woman
have slept in unexpectedly
shall they truly experience
a momentary glimpse of life
outside of
Spectacular Society!
O lament!
The Petty Squabbles of Neighbours Rights.
The Fiasco of Private Parking in Busy Streets.
The Council's Permission for building extensions.
The Taxation of Absolute Resources.
O sing to the possibility!
The Garden lawns of Absolute Community.
The Garden Furniture of Parochial Civility.
The Pure Governance of Garages and Sheds.
The Hedges and Sheers of Natural Reality.
Afterall this has been considered
We shall meet on the barricades
After brushing our teeth hurriedly
Rushing past as the local police officer
reminds you:
'Wrong era, Sir...
must have been a simulation...
nostalgia from an old film...
memories of something better...
a myth of gossip...
it happens to all of us...
Good Day...'
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