THESE ARE THE DAYS OF THE CHEATERS AND THE CHEATED

Saw this old guy
While waiting to take the train one morning,
Hoping to kill some time
And he started spewing some crazy shit,
Got to wonder why,
Talking about how certain people
Are ruining his country,
Can’t help but laugh a bit in silence,
It’s all just so funny,
Hearing ramblings so early already
About who is and isn’t scummy,
Like all the culture he enjoys so much
Didn’t come from those his types sent running,
Just want to throttle his ass so he’ll
Quit worrying about who women are fucking
Or having a heart attack every time he hears
About some dudes who like sucking,
See, I’m real simple, I’m not too bent
On telling folks what they can and can’t do; on better shit
I could waste my precious breath,
Never really was, didn’t have that kind of personality,
But everyone else did; felt like an abnormality,
Wearing a hat that shows how many kids overseas
His ass made suffer and bleed,
Flag with ghostly bank notes on it
So he can show us for some faceless goons he’d proudly be deceased,
Oldhead incensed that we’re too blind to see
That frail and empty logic…

I wonder how many others
Are silently agreeing,
Too bitch-made to question a culture
Where their windpipes are closed to prevent any speaking,
Life affirming? Life itself they’re all readily squeezing,
Murdering from the sidelines, blood is always leaking,
Forced to be numb to it all; the blood in my veins is freezing!

He gives a look and nod,
Shaved head and steel-toes,
I must be one of his own,
Fellow fool, fellow fraud,
But my eyes don’t return his affirmations,
My face tells him I don’t approve of
This place’s constant strangulations,
See, I know I’ve got blood on my hands,
I know that much,
Kind of why I’m always looking down,
All the crimson spilled by this species called “man”,
Fuck, there’s so many; it’s a bunch
With a scowl he steps off at the next stop,
Grumbling as he walks away all pissed off,
Next stop comes, I guess it’s my time to go,
Where will I go today, I don’t even know,
Just wandering aimlessly,
Nothing but clusters
Of blurry days to me,
I wonder if I’m worthy of the gift of life
Gaia herself gave to me…

We’ll pay our penance when
Ol’ Mom is tired of us being a menace,
Until that time comes, she’ll watch
As upon her, murder will be what we’re dealing,
Not a peacenik, I am; hippie shit I ain’t selling,
Just baffles me how many people are hellbent on quelling,
Eager to go looking for more victims to rat to the killers that they’ll be telling!

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NOW I’M LEAVING IT ALL BEHIND

Charred black, removed of all color when flame is set to it. So easily is its composition just…entirely undone, all by this simple act. Light up a dancing blaze, so hypnotic in its swaying, and cause it to meet with the fragile thing whose arrogance we have fostered since time immemorial. Then…poof. Reduced to being nothing but smoldering ash.

Undone is all of its charm. Its magic spell is broken, it would seem. Suddenly, we are reminded of the impermanence, the delicateness, the…frail grasp it has on our minds.

First we scream.

Then we’re in shock.

Lastly…we cheer.

I WANNA KILL SAM

It’s your land, is that right?

By what decree? Who gave it to you, for you to cut up and vivisect and tear, and kill off folks who already lived there, then say they don’t deserve to be there, declaring them outsiders from their own homes? From what source, were you given a “divine right”, to purge the wildlife, flora and fauna alike, so that you may build your grotesque empire of life-denialism upon the bones and blood of those who you deemed to be inferior because you hate difference and loathe what doesn’t conform to the inanity of your false god?

By what logic, are you able to justify sectioning off the Mother, splitting her up like the atoms you split to one day vaporize cities? Because your skin color says it is your very duty? So as to reap the benefits of sheep who are easily swindled into playing your game for you? Or that they weren’t making use of it, but now you will (making use of it being code word for raping, pillaging, poisoning, murdering, exterminating, etc., etc.,)? To foster a shaky culture whose foundations are built on the ideals of hard labor, consuming and producing, mindless activity suited for drones and robots, not the living, breathing, and feeling? Protective of the “riches” hidden there, eager to start up another wrecking ball, another belching engine of disastrous intentions?

By what delusion do you think that all of this is yours, and yours alone? How did you come to the conclusion that it can all be doled in whichever way you please, to whoever you want? And if they don’t make that imaginary list, right, then clearly they don’t deserve to be there, correct? Push ‘em out, yes? Your fake little numbers weren’t branded onto them in this specific area from birth, so, I guess they can’t step foot here, huh? What, y’all don’t like it when cattle from different ranches interact? Silly me, how could I forget; you think them worse than the walking meat piles you sell into slavery, don’t you? Don’t you?

By what array of prophetic visions were you able to decide that them merely marching onto land that is far more precious than price tags, names, zoning regulations, imaginary lines ignored by the smarter non-human relatives we trample on so callously, blood that calls itself better than any other shade of red, entitles you to beating them down, locking then up, abusing them, hunting them for sport, and declaring them worthy of only constructing the Leviathan you masturbate to in your head of dull dreams and unimaginative aspirations? Especially since most of them were hear first…but you don’t want everyone else to know that, right? And if they did, well, those savages didn’t deserve it, did they?

By what grand mishap did you declare movement and connection to the ground ones walks upon itself, via the partitioning of an entire world, was a crime, that expression of freedom in its purest form?

It’s your land…is that right?

FOLLOW THE RAILROADS RILEY (WHEN THEIR BACKS ARE TURNED)

Wound up in a body bag
All so you wouldn’t get
Called a little fag,
Riddled with holes like Swiss cheese,
Bodies piled high
As you beg, plead, and cry,
Never again to see that home
Who’s dick you were told to give a little dome,
And here you are, dead from your desire to please…

Is this what you wanted?

Is this what you needed?

I guess not…

Destined from day one,
Another doomed fuckin son,
Told to be a slave
And send some to the grave,
Building up that hate,
Fellating away (what’s so fucking great?),
Yet couldn’t explain why
They should all just die…

Because you knew nothin else…

Because they sold you into Hell…

This is what it’s like…

This they couldn’t hide…

Come on out here, boy,
Go and get you some ol’ joy,
Since this is your fight,
Joining up, you know it’s right,
Forget the things you’ll do
And how they’ll ruin you,
How you are not yourself,
Compelled to feed an appetite that won’t
Ever come close to being quelled…

Because the pressure was all too much…

Because your hopes and dreams they crushed…

Now you’re lying on the ground…

No one you loved is anywhere around…

Quench that never-ending thirst,
To satisfy it, you are cursed,
Except it will not leave,
You’re granted no reprieve,
Now your soul will go and burn
Just like those kids (a death is what they earned)…

Do you need anymore?

Do you need this? Sure!

So just pay the price…

So you think it’s nice…