2025.01.21

Phew, it was so very hard to not smile through it all,

And my faceups require me at full beam to pin them,

But my hard day of aristocratic angling is finally done,

Trying to hold it in and not turn that to a celebrity ball.

Cause I know now, a show of only smiley laughter is an approval of a scene.

Yet, one that imparts only bitter sorrows brings rage against the machine.

But I also know,

A well-timed laugh at utter stupidity,

During a moment that’s rather serious,

Can be a raging good show.

I mean, you know how it goes,

Some folk are always laughing at funerals…

But better indeed to laugh at, than with, a fascist.

Cause we all gotta laugh a fat fascist to early grave,

While raging the machine to do our better biddings.

A fascist is a regal glitzed dumb-fuck,

Responding to where a spotlight goes,

So lets make fun of its perverted pants,

Lets dance it in all brilliantly odd insult,

No place can it be that feels without joke,

Nothing can it do that doesn’t panic polarity,

No easy gold for this one, only golden showers.

Cause this here organo-machine just ain’t for sale,

Belonging to the peoples you’d best employ fair,

But what offers you aristo-types putting on table,

To unite all wholesomely and fight for a future?

Cause right now, bronzer is all the rage,

But can vision win with well-timed humour?

Yet for sure, surreality’s scene,

Is not well-working no more.

Cause churning it is indeed,

To see smiles at a time for tears and fears,

To seek enjoyment at a time of mass grief,

Or find agreement with an earthen fascist.

For surreality cannot fight,

Cause it has no clear image,

Mixing equal, a friend and foe.

2025.01.20

I’m trying here, but, I mean, come on, in reason,

We all got ticks and flicks, and I’m rather quirky,

But can we all at least agree on one basic thing:

"A shining banker come to lead,

Is something really bad indeed."

Especially a sac of golden moneyman,

Transporting from a city-state break,

Of that tired old-world capital empire,

Representing distant unhappy princes.

And then lets move onto matters of state,

Cause a pug-headed fascist-bleating robot,

Is really rather popular and going to swipe,

It’s excited to accelerate our earth’s doom,

And has no quibble of bending knee south.

And if you are really rather worried further,

Happening in our backyard is a fascist rising,

And upon that we must existentially decide,

Of uniting honestly toward our shared goals,

Or split divisively losing democracy’s messes?

I know you think I have all control, my lost children,

But there is so much beyond my means to change,

And I’m trying to evolve here but I don’t often speak.

And no amount of screaming can help life succeed,

But I’m a mother, and know every party has poopers,

And it smells like some diapers are just full of stink.

And yet, this I know for sure:

A haunting and unhappy prince always straps a democracy,

An unelected and shining banker always gets glitzy-eyed fast,

A pug-headed duke-of-a-robot always lubricates corruption,

And a sexist-fascist-oligarch always cries for more till ending.

I ain’t perfect, but I’m trying my best to be honest here.

But let politician and oligarch fight,

When the poor and knowing unite!

2025.01.19

I do wonder why those in my community die younger,

Perhaps from being honest, others place curses on us.

But I watch my time tick by,

Honestly trying not over fret,

Unpredictable cursed ends,

For honest love guides clear.