Sunday, January 20, 2013

Spiritual Confetti

English: Times Square at night

Cardboard wisdom replenishes clichéd boredom
Ancient cut-outs throng modern airwaves
The landscapes are tilled
Everyone swoons over hesitant snowflakes
And savvy updates
In that damning quest for the meaning of life
Or the lack thereof
With hints and clues
Of what's never to be found or had
Yet desires persist
As aversions increase
In equal proportions
Pinning you down
Raising you up
Till satellite skies meet the radioed ground
Or so they propound
It’s relentless
It’s ruthless
Like the lies of Armstrong
Or the walking reminder of another’s claim to fame
That “small step for man
And that gigantic leap for mankind”
That boisterous bull
Hesitantly static
Wired and micro-fed
One cycled to infamy
The other walked into oblivion
A soundtrack plays somewhere in the background
It goes “We’re livin’ in a political world, where love don’t have any place. We’re livin’ in times where men commit crimes and crimes don’t have a face”
The ecstasy and the disgrace
The fallacy and the faces of those caught in races drugged out on invictus-glorious
Is there even anything to blame?
What do ya mean by the shame?
When winning isn't everything it’s the only thing has become a mantra
Where we now laugh at the old-scurried-ways of saying
“Look. It’s the participation that matters”
Cruelty smiles
Irony laughs
Self-righteousness goes smug
Morality gains reality
And the status-quo is maintained
Balanced precariously
Like a rope-walker on booze
A juggler with fits
That said and ingested
Screeching screaming slogans say otherwise
Simmering down to a despicable-me
That is wise, beloved and free
From the shackles of self-aggrandizement
Thirty-second commercials that you say are ad-free 


No neon-lit heresy
Of you, me and love actually
For we gotta be honest, you decree
From both placards and pickaxes, you see
And whatever is dastardly
And piquant to the tasteless buds of those in-vogue
The glitterati
And others deemed wise by designated panels of expertise
Honorably fashionable
And seemingly free of fright
Forever right
Modernistic propellers of ancient lore
A catchphrase announces
“There is no sleight of hand”
And once again the three monkeys gather
Each adept at the poses of “Saw no evil; Heard no evil; Spoke no evil”
Congratulating the loyal monkeys
We get back on our trusted old donkeys
Playing Jesus to the destitute
Resurrecting a Lazarus or two
Breaking bread with the les miserables
Drinking wine with sailors of Mutiny on the Bounty
And here’s the cream
The punchline
Crucifying the poor arisen bastard
Parading him around our necks
There’s blood on the nails
The crowning head still bleeds
The thorns prick
A whisper mutters couragesouly
Sing him a psalm
Give him a mass
And come back once in awhile when you've regressed
Say ‘Amen’
And try not to do it all over again
Until it’s time for another status update
But don't be late
Reminders for the commercialized rates of fates
In yer taverns of velvet grace

English: Broadway show billboards at the corne...

Ps: YourLustForLifeStartsRightNow!
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