|A poem, of politics in a room.
||[Dec. 4th, 2010|12:40 pm]
When we questioned doors and walls, we didn't expect replies|
When we questioned chairs and floors, a reply was not the answer
Beware that roar of victory from the belly of power hungry disregard,
"This is ours" "We are this" "We belong to this, and will
do it's bidding!"
We posed a question and were silenced, ownership will not be questioned again, because something has won something...
this space belongs, however, to power as ever, more than ever
This space belongs to heavy fists of baby-bashing cock
The revolution is here and it's testicles are crushing us all... you will not cry
The cock and balls of revolution holds the keys
The cock and balls of revolution decides the protection you will have, you will not defend yourself
The cock and balls of revolution will decide your worth,
and you will be left to cower, panicking in the cold if the cock and balls of revolution
choose a gun instead of you
there's only space for one of the two
and cock and balls of revolution will choose the gun
Play along or you haven't got it in you,
Cary our phallus on your head if you care
Stitch up the wet tender opening in your chest and be received
it whispers with innocent crushing fury
Beware the shaving of their beards, the donning of black suits,
when there is a dawn they'll try be the morning
when there is a dawn they'll try to devour you...
I defy the claim in the twilight that the cock and balls of revolution are the same as mine...
mine, my genitals, are soft and quiet, clumsy, depressed and in the light they are happy,
you, are nothing but a beak I already knew disguised but now unveiled,
sunk into my skull, but it is soft and you will have no grip,
A world worse than the one we walked out of has been created inside you
and I lend you legitimacy no more.
I will cry and I will break and I will lie in bed until the afternoon and I will be fixed and I will reach out my hand
and there is love that will take it, outside, beyond you.
We do more than fight, and we do more than fuck,
because we do it with our legs outspread, our minds open, our palms skywards
and we are a circle
peace be within you, milk be upon you
I am guilty with compliance
but now I sever you
and I grow