“…New fangled tech is nano and unfathomable
Quantum leap in our sleep-walking to the basement door
Turn the lock, no thought to stop, we’re descending through the floor…”
…
Mixed Up – Joe Blogs
I’m frustrated at nothing,
Today’s just one of those days
It’s got me growling and puffing
Tangled in a bedsheet haze
I’m craving something
But I don’t quite know what
There’s a movie on but I think I’ve lost the plot
Entertain me on a carousel of vascillating forms
Read a page of my book but I’m getting lost in fantasy
Try to sit and meditate but I’ve forgotten how to be
Today’s an exsistential shit-tip
So let’s tip my shit into it.
Let the words flow
Let my spirit go
How was I supposed to know?
Ignorance is no excuse
What have you really got to loose
I ask you to choose
Between two evil options
There ain’t no heaven and hell
Except what you make for yourself
In your attitude to this world
You can let yourself be unfurled
Or remain curled up in the foetal position
But how long can you keep this cancer in remission?
Have you got the vision
To live outside of the box
Pull up your lucky socks
It’s time to get our rocks on
We should scale these mountains
Sing out our soul in proud rhyme
Because all you really own is time
That’s all you have, the rest is just an illusion
So what you trade it for, what you spend it on
Enslaved by your own collusion.
I spread confusion
Because the status quo is broken
For so many brothers and sisters
We need to break the door wide open
The rough wood forming blisters
As we kick and scratch our way to freedom
The powers that be poker faces weeping
We just sceam read ’em
Cause we don’t need em
As much as they need us
Which is why whenever we kick up a fuss
They come down hard
Like a ton of bricks to our feathers
But what weighs more?
Let me tell you what’s in store:
Global fuck-upery of the highest order
I’m just trying to warn ya
That the warming is run-away
Sit down, shut up, put your guns away
Haven’t you been listening to a word we say?
This ocean spray is gunna run cranberry red with blood
On your hands, as we cough up a flood
Crimson sands are running through this hourglass
Faster than Alladin can morph into the Taliban
The salty sultans can’t really be to blame
They’re simply players in a good-for-noone game
Not ashamed of their actions rebounding reactions
They’re just fractions of a great big triangle
Makes you wonder:
What’s the purpose
Of this helpless jingle-jangle
New fangled tech is nano and unfathomable
Quantum leap in our sleep-walking to the basement door
Turn the lock, no thought to stop, we’re descending through the floor
Into a waking nightmare
Of melting ice and oil flares
And the few who care
Get exhausted, reported, tyres slashed, or extorted
Burn out, sell out, the problems to big, into the vacuum we shout:
“Out…
Get out…
Out…
Get out…”
– Joe Blogs, 2019