Re: just for laughs -- Poetry & Grace

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Date Posted: 03/25/07 8:19:44pm
Author: frances (ahoh- so- !)
Subject: Re: just for laughs
In reply to: Window Man 's message, "just for laughs" on 02/20/01 2:23:40pm

>Belittled
>
>Maybe it's simplistic
>but I'm just trying to make a point
>survival fundamentalism
>seems to be in everyone
>Prejudice always surfaces
>at the first sign of danger
>all those glorious platitudes
>of human grace
>seem to slip quietly between the cushions
>on your living room furniture
>beside your metal peace
>And he's gonna kill you
>unless you strike first
>He's gonna take your food
>and you know you feel the thirst
>the lingering patriotism
>learned at mother's knee
>how you're so much better
>so much better than he
>And when you know you're better than him
>then you know you're ready
>ready to kill;
>chant your superiority
>as you bash him in the head
>eat your food with pride
>to survival, you are wed
>
>This is an ode to the innate prejudice residing
>in the survivalist instincts in
>every human being
>This is a lament
>that despite everything
>we're all so hell bent
>on surviving
>instead of living
>
>***
>
>Kill, kill, kill
>If you may
>Did you hear of paraphrase
>and excuses
>for the Righteous Way?
>Laugh, laugh, laugh
>assert your umbrage
>at the upstart's foray
>When you humiliate the freak
>that feels so good
>did you ever realise
>you're drawing on such ancient heritage?
>You live in a fake little crowd
>and you seem much too unaware of it
>You just feel very proud
>individualism abstractly caresses you
>and that's enough to justify it
>
>Oh, the crowd, the crowd's allure
>disarms you with a promise
>of all to which you aspire
>Oh, the child, the poor little child
>struggling so hard
>with the notion's learned at mother's knee
>You know, she's confused
>so he is too
>What's a mother to do
>but pass on what was learned from her own kin...?
>Oh, the power
>the power of the crowd
>Stand against what you know is wrong
>Proclaim to the world what you know is right
>Stand alone, if you are strong
>Swim as hard as you can against the tide
>And the killer in them is the killer in you
>Feel yourself laughed out of sight
>The outsider's brand is stamped on you
>crushed by the crowd's might
>...and you will be next
>
>Once bitten, twice the fright
>fear is the antidote to all principals
>after effects linger...
>Oh the child, the poor little child
>dazzled
>Where to turn?
>What is right?
>What is wrong?
>What's right is to fit in
>if it assures your own survival
>What's a little oppression?
>Where does it begin
>if not in the bit of fun
>they thought was just harmless and trivial?
>
>***
>
>Angry young men shout at me, burn the flag of Mammon
>in my face
>Angry young men just want me to see and learn from
>what they know
>Angry young men thought they knew everything;
>that there was nothing more to learn
>and that the malevolent righteousness
>of their establishment nemesis
>now benignly blesses them
>
>***
>
>The angry young man cried
>a hopeful tear in the dark
>Realisation, semi-realised
>Half-hearted epiphany
>born of ulterior motive
>The youthful aberration
>of that poor little child
>might just be forgiven
>And where else will redemption be sought
>but in the arms of the crowd?
>(Nothing has been learned)
>And proclaim to the world what is right
>Be proud to stand alone
>now the shackles of childhood
>are gone
>We are a better person
>for admitting we are worse
>worse than the freak
>
>A lesson learned
>could be kudos earned
>if you persist in such ideas
>Argument
>would be considered affront
>exposing some new fear
>A lesson learned
>is soon undone
>A lapse of id;
>Insults of the Cool Kids
>Yell again at everything
>It's frightening how easy it is to slip
>into cheerleading tactics;
>so very unbecoming
>
>***
>
>Listen to be accused
>selectivity is kicking in
>as always
>eels are slippery
>and get away
>Wise words peel layers of mystery
>from angry perception
>enlighten us of
>bleeding injustice
>So change what you're saying
>Don't change what you said
>Regrets are unappealing
>the world is unconcerned
>with revelations in your head
>Revive your words with action
>pity is useless
>For history knew it;
>When they came for me
>there was no one left to protest
>
>This is a campaign to have Martin Niemoller
>pinned on the back
>of every teacher's door
>in every school
>in this sick, disgusting world
>
>***
>
>And this is an ode
>to the Design for Life
>a design that some endure
>a prison that some fight
>Sometimes, it feels beautiful
>It feels like everything is clear
>Could it be
>designing our own lives
>makes some sort of utopia?
>
>And where did it all leave me?
>I preach with pencil to paper masses
>and feel my own righteousness
>flitting in and out
>simple one minute
>fogged the next
>
>I think I'd like to be left alone now
>I like to relax in the sun
>work out where I went wrong
>People start out weak
>Few ever become strong
>I'm just another person
>weak as the next one;
>I prefer cats
>
>And I'm praying to the God I don't believe
>praying for a day to overcome
>I'm begging that we could leave behind
>this fucked-up primal rat race
>dispense of animal urge
>that betrays Godly potential
>Boot the
>instinct the gut reserves
>and eschew
>the hereditary excuses
>of the Rationalist
>Darwinian thinking of the scientist
>person
>I'm hanging on the notion
>while it's easy for some
>hard for others;
>it's not impossible for everyone
>Accept first your failings
>find your God
>in your private challenge
>make all that can be made
>of being human

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