soundtrack for the collapse of the empire. part iii.

soundtrack for the collapse of the empire.
part iii.

the maya did not disappear.
they simply abandoned their cities,
and stopped paying tributes to the gods
because they gods had forsaken them,
and their land no longer grew crops.
so that the high class of rulers also starved,
and they too had to leave their temples
        and homes and learn to be
        just like the people.

so that when the people start to starve…
don’t expect them to pay tribute.

what are you waiting for?
for the people to abandon the empire
because they are already beginning to go hungry.

10.09.11.

soundtrack for the collapse of the empire. part ii.

soundtrack for the collapse of the empire.
part ii.

i will rise above towards the mountaintop
before the corporation comes and
        sets up its plantation.
my ideals are too radical,
but at least i have some.
yours can be bought, can’t they?
or they can become easily subdued at
        the slightest threat of
        fear or pain.
and yes i am also scared and terrified,
but am so much more
of what will happen if we just ignore
what’s happening around in the world.

for love of country, you’re willing to die?
what fucking country?
they hand you a gun, and send you
        off. a boy off to war, and
        call you a soldier.
i head to the streets with no weapons, unarmed
        to fight for what’s mine. my life
        and peace of mind, and i’m just
        a rebel.
if you die for country,
i’ll die for love and humanity
because i’m not trying to save a way of life,
but to ensure there is a way of life
to save.

i will rise above the masses and the populous.
we, that don’t have anything, are destined to be
subjugated to be employees and renters of
        property.
nobody owns anything.
your land belongs to the city,
and the city is owned by the state,
and the state is owned by the feds,
and your country is a corporation
with a board and invisible CEO’s
that control everything;
it’s no longer even a conspiracy
as everything is done before our eyes
and our consent
through locally held elections
of which far less than half of the population participates in.

10.09.11.

soundtrack for the collapse of the empire.

soundtrack for the collapse of the empire.

children of capitalism
do the dance of
waste and decadence.
dance for your forefathers-
the slaves and the owners,
the weak and wicked.
the shadows of light
are blinding in darkness

children of capitalism
your women are bitches
your men are all dogs
so then what are you?
if your mother’s a bitch,
and your father a dog,
so then what are you?

are you an american?
from the continent or
from the country?
there is no country america.
are you an orphan?
what are you?
we are children of capitalism-
confused, lost
because what will we do
when our money can’t buy
our salvation,
our freedom,
or worse, you run out
of money?

children of capitalism-
sons and daughters
of decadence,
the empire is crumbling,
so dance, dance, dance
and fuck, fuck, fuck.
we’re all screwed, screwed, screwed,
and in the end as in
the beginning
there will be a fire
ignited
to burn, burn, burn
till we are all returned
to ashes
and dust to dust to dust.

10.08.11.

dreams: imagined oceans.

dreams: imagined oceans.

imagine the oceans to be a dream;
a shrieking, crashing of waves
attempting to hold onto the earth
without being swayed away by death
and time
and decay;
attempting to make the moments last
longer than a flashing second
endlessly passing by
like hands and arms waving goodbye.

because
we are all children lost;
in the forest
abandoned on an island,
neglected by our governments
whose choices are more influenced
by corporate CEO’s than the voice
of the citizens.

so that
now we all feel like
everyday is spent on a conveyor belt,
and we are all some product
on an assembly line
as we’ve all become so plastic,
docile, and such trained
imbeciles and spectators;
watching online and/or on TV,
and that’s how the company
likes it,
and spends millions on advertisement
and PR on
the industry
of keeping us quiet and in line.

09.03.11.

for being and believing.

for being and believing.

fire in the city,
       and the skies go gray
       from ashes rising up
       over the criminals and citizens,
and we are survivors
       watching the state collapse
       and the economy crumble
       over the criminals and citizens.

there’s only so much light allowed
       into the darkness,
       and we are labeled as the weak ones
       for being pure of heart

and believing in myth and allegory.

06.28.11.

stream of consciousness.

stream of consciousness.

if i could,
yes, i would
just stay put
at the back
of the bus.
if you must,
just don’t care
and in god trust.

get it straight.
this country
is about
greed, money
and lust.
an old machine
covered with rust.

fuck it man.
fuck it all.
fuck your job.
fucking tourette’s
got me again
in a box
with some locks,
which your heart
holds the key.
set me free
on tv
like reality
programming.
market me;
my identity
and personality.
repackage me
for the populous
and masses.
fuck it man.
fuck it all.
fuck your job.
fuck it all.
fuck it all.

06.28.11.

being in the moment while being in the moment.

being in the moment while being in the moment.

i should remember
today
like i should recall each day.
as the day,
i changed a little,
i learned a little,
and got my soul
to being a little more whole,
not even concerned
with being holier,
as long as i learn, expand, develop and GROW
like the plants in our garden.
from beginning to the end
to be a part of the message
that’s going to change the world.

i should recall today
as not just any other day,
as how i should perceive each and every day
like the day, i chose to change the way
i saw everything and learned to finally
see everything.

02.15.11.

implanting messages to later ignore.

implanting messages to later ignore.

 
 
broke myself into the inside of
       my brain,
and left a message for myself
       to find
myself all in disarray.
the world is rearranged
every single day
with the energy to change
       the world,
but i keep getting dragged
       down into a giant
       great big hole
that i wish the whole
       world would
       just disappear.
by night time, i’m so ready
       to throw it all away,
and not give a fuck about
       anything,
and just give into all of the temptations
until i finally give into
       deep sleep,
so that by the next day,
i’ve forgotten all about my
       message,
and how i broke myself into the
       inside of my brain.
 

02.15.11.

with you.

with you.

don’t tell me you don’t understand
that everything’s been preplanned,
and we are a part of it, but
no one ever asked us.
we just got thrown into the game,
but i do not want to play
because no one really knows the rules
since there are none,
and thus it becomes so easy
       to play unfair,
whether intentional or accidental.
i do not want to play.
i do not want to play
at living-
that life’s a game
for winners and losers.
no, i do not want to play.
i want to live.
i want to live mine.
i want to live my life
beyond the self imposed sorrow
and fake plastic smiles,
beyond the mystics and martyrs,
beyond the saints and the sinners,
beyond good and evil,
i want to live.
i want to live my life
(with you).

02.15.11.