[IWAR] poem, memes, &c.

From: Mark Hedges (hedgesat_private)
Date: Sun Jun 14 1998 - 21:55:04 PDT

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    Well ya know I like poems; I find disjointed imagery often the only cure
    for the plastic crap the advertisers attempt to cram down my throat every
    day: the false memes, the false life, the pathetic simulcrum of experience
    which society tries to convince me I'm obligated to purchase! "More
    rotting corpses... no one notices... Who is to say what is wrong?"  
    
    Well, how about me for starters?  -hedges-
    
    UNITY 
    
    The people will neglect the Temple, and in time of adversity they will 
         decry it. 
    
    "Oh, Pooh! Do you think it's a---a---a Woozle?"
    "It may be," said Pooh. "Sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn't. You 
         never can tell with paw-marks." 
    
    Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe 
         that makes sense. But the real universe is always one step
         beyond logic. 
    
    I
    
    I live in a place
    where death blows
    in the wind
    crackling leaves
    frozen brown puddles
    a corpse in the gutter
    skin of leather
    forehead open to bone
    brown leaves of flesh peeling from its cheeks
    Crusted black blood
    an ancient riverbed
    springing from the ear
    Flowing laughter
    from the two small children covered in purple playclothes
    passing by
    bouncing a ball
    Small plastic implants glitter in the light
    at the backs of their necks
    they laugh at something unseen
    by the dead man
    his velvet robes stained with blood, his scepter by his side
    broken
    Did you see that? watch, if you do this, the
    waves go all around you!
    They see the corpse and laugh; pass by and do not care. 
    
    Gentlemen
    We are moving forward
    We will soon control the market
    We will soon control the populace
    We will soon control the world
              through technology
              TECHNOLOGY
              TEKNOLOGOS
    Miss Pierce
              fetch my coffee
    The pearls dangle from her neck.
    No!!
    Long live the revolution
    Let freedom explode!
    boom
    more rotting corpses
              no one notices 
    
    II
    
    isn't it odd
    the waves break upon the shore foamed with blood
    Damp chill of sky
    Seagulls pecking at a corpse of a woman shot upon the beach? Face down in
    the sand...
              her soul will not ascend 
    
    The laughing children
    make sandcastles
    use her pearls
    as a rim around the towers 
    
    III
    
    There is a ferris wheel
    turning in my mind.
    It becomes
    a fountain
    then a strange amorphous shadow
    and is gone 
    
    IV
    
    There is nothing here
    a smooth grey floor
    in the distance more mountains
    but this space is unfortunately for now 
    
    wait 
    
    the golden eagle soars high above,
    is my guide,
    shows me where I must go
    inexplicable
    Oh, if I had but wings!
    I could glide with the eagle,
    out of this deserted place
    over the blackened mountains
    into something I have not experienced before! 
    
    but now, now I have no wings
              I am doomed
    to this
    empty room
    grey floor
    smooth stone
    grey walls
    smooth stone
    no door
    smooth stone
    no air
    smooth stone
    no light
    smooth stone
    I die with a final gasp
    smooth stone
    grey walls
    smooth stone 
    
    V
    
    Circling the redwoods
    life
    floating in the air
    gold-laced winged fantasy
    I cannot breathe
    for the frigid wind
    gusts down my throat
    spinning up and up into the
              gold 
    
    VI
    
    They scream at me and shove the finely covered gilded tome at me. Such a
              dark ballroom I am in, tied to this chair.
    They are singing, they are singing, oh the glorious song they are 
              singing!
    The book, burgundy and gold on the finest of vellum---
    GO NOW. GO TO HIM. HE NEEDS YOU.
    The purple-clad children,
    adorned with wig and cape,
    vest and creamy leather boots,
    the children open the book to my eyes.
    Five heads on the points of a pentagram etched in stone spin within the 
              book.
    Spinning ever faster, my eyes spin within my skull, the points recede 
              into the distance as a coin tumbles to the ground 
    
    VII
    
    An ending needs to be reached,
    a conclusion, a finishing,
    a termination
    what is it?
    The Hierophant
    is dead in the gutter
    GO NOW. GO TO HIM. HE NEEDS YOU.
    The children
    have killed again
    GO NOW. GO TO HIM. HE NEEDS YOU.
    The eagle
    rests in the void of clarity
    GO NOW. GO TO HIM. HE NEEDS YOU. 
    
    IT IS TIME.
    The eagle, the Hierophant, the children
    They call to me from above
    Blue sky, white clouds, the triune floating above---who is to say
    what is wrong? 
    
    GO TO HIM, ALL OF YOU GO TO HIM. 
    
    VIII
    
    calm 
    
              blackness 
    
                        nothing 
    
    I live here---I occupy my space. 
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    the first quote is from T.S. Eliot... the wasteland? I forget
    the second from a.a.milne
    the third from frank herbert's dune... a princess quote
    i read that in fourth grade
    i read childhoods end in third
    (that means i'm a freak who didn't have any friends)
    (well there were the bullies who tricked me all the time)
    (i was considerably more naive...now i make more money than them! =)
    (but that's all another story)
    



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