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I see the world
in all its varied miseries
crying children left alone in the dark
grandmothers too ill to care;
the circular motions of many men
carry a weight which has never truly been defined
separations of church and state; illusions for the masses
television screens beam out ficticious roles of who we all ought to be; resemble; mimic; imitate
but they can not imitate life away from me
congress; merely a singular collection of a primordial brood
set high upon a shelf for the public to view
a feel good - everything is ok line of shit - shoveled daily
Then
we wonder why everyone is sick
take the blue pill; no, the green; take one and then you're forced to take the rest
a shuffling death march meant to keep fat whore's fat
the senate in place
and the President mocking us all -
rats of society;
a mule - just an ass
carrying the financial burdens of men and women whom I've never met
they hide behind an illusion of opportunity; freedom; and free will
yet these too are faded from within
how can they apply themselves to my life
when the choices I make have never been mine
it appears just a false sense of righteousness
when toiling away in the mines day after day hour after hour
never having enough of this or any of that
yet,
no one questions just injustices
because they have simply left no time for an individual to
THINK
what then truly is the luxury?
it's not the bigger house
the bigger car
or the boat that zoooms from here to there
it's a singular, solitary moment in which you view the world
and notice that ultimately;
it is we who enslave ourselves-
Don't you think?
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Wow! This really evoked a lot of emotion -- very powerful. You really managed to portray propaganda and how it affects the masses. I think this would be a great sociological piece because it also demonstrates false consciousness and the illusion of our society :)
After a few readings I think I could come up with levels and levels of meaning.
However, once again (and this might only be me and not true), to me this reads more like prose. I don't mean lack of rhyme (I actually prefer poetry without rhyming schemes), but the rhythm doesn't seem quite right. Or something that I don't have the vocabulary for.
You are very right. I believe this term is Stockholm Syndrome. I have read of this and it fits what you say here. We forgive too easily these people who are constantly doing wrong. As always I enjoyed your perspective on things. Thank you for sharing.
I like the imagery, and the fresh look at an old subject. And I definitely like and agree with the final part of the poem. You really hit the nail on the head here!
