HOW TO SPELL CONTRADICTION

we love to go shopping
it makes us feel so happy
we love to drink poison
it makes us feel so happy
we love to go shopping
it fulfills our dreams
we love to smoke faggots
it makes us feel so 'moral'

we love to buy presents
it makes others reciprocate
we love to hit the bottle
it makes us so truthful
we love to receive presents
it makes us feels so loved
we love to beat up homos
it makes us feel so manly

we have no convictions
it makes us feel so empty
we abhor compassion
it's each man for himself
we have no convictions
it's all good as long as the weather's fair
we reject all the misfits
for AIDs is bleeding from their hearts

we must stamp out rebellion
we dare not think outside the box
we worship contradictions
it's innate to be greedy and selfish
we pay for the experience of rebellion
how much for those pre-faded, pre-torn jeans?
we deny the cognitive dissonance
for everything is OK; just pretend we are happy

we love to go shopping
we love to drink poison
we love to go shopping
we like to smoke faggots
we love to buy presents
we love to hit the bottle
we love to receive presents
we love to beat up homos

can you tell me how to spell contradiction?
can you tell me how to spell contradiction?
can you tell me how to spell contradiction?
can you tell me how to spell contradiction?
can you tell me how to spell contradiction?
can you tell me how to spell contradiction?
can you tell me how to spell contradiction?
can you tell me how to spell contradiction?

we love to go shopping
we love to drink poison
we love to go shopping
we like to smoke faggots
we love to buy presents
we love to hit the bottle
we love to receive presents
we love to beat up homos

can you tell me how to spell contradiction?
can you tell me how to spell contradiction?
can you tell me how to spell contradiction?
can you tell me how to spell contradiction?
can you tell me how to spell contradiction?
can you tell me how to spell contradiction?
can you tell me how to spell contradiction?
can you tell me how to spell contradiction?

15/12/10

SYSTEM OVERLOAD










Guy Fawkes
Propaganda by deed
My vendetta
is yr corrupt culture
Blow up the parliament
Time warp terrorist
The blood
of protestants
arouses
my sentiments

I draw
dotted lines
in the moist sand
Pick up seashells
Throw them
in a cauldron
Concoct a spell
of liberation
The condemned
shall be free

Retreat
underground
as the weather
changes
There's no need
to blow up
the banks
For a sea change
has swept
us over

Electronica
Terrorista
Feed yr sisters
Free our brothers
Respect yr mothers
Kill our fathers
Chip away
at the mainframe
IMF
World Bank

Redistribute
the numbers
equally
Divide by
6.5 billion
Free the zealots
from their chains
Superfluous
like coal trains

When the peons
share
the same
digits
No more
financial midgets
For
in abundance
the value
of Godhead's
sacred symbols
become
null and void

A JOURNEY THRU DOORWAYS OF DECADENCE



from the planet Pluto i departed
then I landed on this earthly cauldron of pestilence
fuck the corporate cretins and the wars that they have started
this is but a distant echo of the replication of decadence

did I get here in that garbage fuelled car:
the one with the futuristic flip up doors?
I was laying down in a dream gazing up at the stars
and those mushroom enhanced tablets opened up the doors

so much apathy on this sheep-fucker's paradise
so many sheep on this illegitimate genocidal island:
the post-Utopian failures of the failure to communicate
as the inconveniences and riff raff keep on dying
and the baby-killing war criminals continue to extricate
and the corporate cuntish media keep on lying
and the cretins in high castles and steeples continue to feed us hate
while the BAH BAH BAH consumers keep on buy buy buying

why must I keep on throwing the same nonsense back in the collective face of the converted?
may the nth dimension of universal love bless the innocents now departed
from the source, back to the source, flows the currents of karma
that supposedly 'highly evolved' creatures have started

there is nothing more I can say that is not a cliché
and from the beginning, I had nothing new to say
everyday should be a peaceful day in each and every way
but it's never going to happen until the hyper-greedy go away

the pollution...the pollution...the pollution...
the solution...the solution...the solution...

pop a fucking cap in their holy temples
then leave the fuckers the choice to join the free or die

the pollution...the pollution...the pollution...
the revolution...the revolution...the revolution...

will not be televised, nor Stalinised, nor sanitised
and there will not be a leadership of the conceitedly wise

bloood will flow
heads will roll
equality
the beautiful end

so this is the beginning and the end
of the drifter's journey that I am still on

28/2 to 3/3/10

A STAB AT HUMANITY


hack through the bones
to find the broken shells of shame.
strangers at home
casting a silent spell of war games.

if I trace the fragments
in a fragmented collective memory,
I hear empty threats
and the cataclysmic tortured screams of regrets.

we can claim the moral high-ground
but what makes us believe
that human life is
the Everest of value?

inside our whispered taunts,
are the decaying innards of
our humanistic,
mass-murdering hypocrisy!

I still remember
but how will you remember
when you are dismembered;
just one less inconvenience.

"there is no way to peace --
peace is the way."

A Sad State Of Freedom by Nazim Hikmet

You waste the attention of your eyes, the glittering labour of your hands, and knead the dough enough for dozens of loaves of which you'll taste not a morsel; you are free to slave for others-- you are free to make the rich richer. The moment you're born they plant around you mills that grind lies lies to last you a lifetime. You keep thinking in your great freedom a finger on your temple free to have a free conscience. Your head bent as if half-cut from the nape, your arms long, hanging, your saunter about in your great freedom: you're free with the freedom of being unemployed. You love your country as the nearest, most precious thing to you. But one day, for example, they may endorse it over to America, and you, too, with your great freedom-- you have the freedom to become an air-base. You may proclaim that one must live not as a tool, a number or a link but as a human being-- then at once they handcuff your wrists. You are free to be arrested, imprisoned and even hanged. There's neither an iron, wooden nor a tulle curtain in your life; there's no need to choose freedom: you are free. But this kind of freedom is a sad affair under the stars. Translated by Taner Baybars