God
11-30-2004, 05:50 PM
Okay, well I re-edited it, took out a lot of the indignant tone, and here it is. Sorry for posting the same poem twice, but I shorted it, so maybe people will read it this time. Thanks. Oh yea, I have to post it in two parts, since its 45000 characters in length.
And please allow me a few words on society
plastic people, television porn, false dreams
and everyone is asleep in their dream
and nothing is really ever spoken in secular art
than the robotic ravings of a disturbed mind
and thus said, please forgive me for speaking
and take a long look at yourself, please
do you really even know yourself?
and yes, I guess I’m willing to risk it all
just for a shot, a tiny taste of it
but what is it?
And it shows how sick this world really is
When all you want to do is to be real
And yet you are forced by fear to lie?
And it’s the contempt of the lie you must overcome
And you gotta learn the gentle art of lying
and sometimes I feel as if I am surrounded by blank faces
of the mundane, the ordinary, the average, the mad
and thank you god, that I'm not sad, like them
and no one thinks but in a dream, haha
and no one really speaks anymore, to anyone
and no one really feels anymore, except in obsession
obsession that dares to call itself ‘love’
and a momentary rush of feelings
and baby, you think you know it all
and when it all comes rushing back to you
don't say that I didn't ever warn you
and curse my goddamned pretension
and there is nothing I despise more
than my own mask, that I am forced to wear
by a world that just doesn't give a shit or care
But oh baby, I don't think you could endure
one frank stabbing word of truth, no I don't
And you wonder if I am talking to you
and yes I am, what else can I do?
I thought I was trapped in my proudly proclaimed fate
but no, maybe that great 'freedom' can wait
that pathetic freedom that the ego wishes for
like an immature little child wanting to break free of its master
And these aren't really my words at all
but the whispering of a silent unsatisfiable muse
And yet still, in your great curiosity
you still seek to know me, and I to you
and do not deny me your state of grace, Lord
and I'll do anything, anything at all
and what did that mean, I don’t know
it’s the words of a depraved mentality
and please lord, burn all of my papered words
and either love me please, or deny it all
I’m ready for your saving grace, Lord
And I’m tired of thinking and saying
“your own thoughtless stupidity
leaves you in your own personal deserved Hell”
And why won't you look at me?
is this not what you wanted to see?
so take a look at one of your great outcasts
I thrive in the strength of your subtle sickness
You mundane, you ordinary, you average man
and what's that, you don't like the metallic harshness of sin
Well then baby, maybe you shouldn't have been swallowing bullets then
and yes, little innocent child
this world is quite an evil and sickening place
and has your innocence not yet broken?
and so hurry up and die, child
no one really wants you here
no one really wants you here
and you should plant yourself firmly in the ground
and it’s only because, little child
you refuse to look at the colors of the world
It’s all about me, me, me, to you
And your selfishness causes me to miss the beauty
and what good have you brought to the world?
Another greedy little mouth to feed
another pathetic petty virus to spread
spread your disease and get it over quick, please
I’m growing very tired of you being in charge, ego
and sometimes I really do not like my face
for wearing it the way I do
and sometimes I used to worry
what would I be without my face?
But if you start to doubt yourself,
you'll begin to become filled with fright, scare, fear
and we both know the paranoia
of where that road leads
and it’s simply the natural outgrowth of human consciousness
and it’s the dirty scientists that are trying to control
and the main stated goal of psychology
is to control, to control, to learn to control the mind
and I don’t think psychologists have your best interests in mind
but if you look at it from above, detached
do you really like those clouds you dwell on?
But what am I supposed to do, I asked?
and what were those little words
of such gentle ferocious truth
Oh yes, you wanted freedom
Well, in nature, only the strong survive
And are we humans not indeed animals at heart?
And why can't you simply rest, and be content
at the sight of your gentle beauty
and what more do you want from me
a soft light or a hard self-overcoming?
And those are depraved words
but you just don't understand, you whisper to me
your soft lips caressing my large ear
But with you I am okay, my friend
When we hold hands together, agreeing
nourishing my spirit ever so gently
and what did I do to deserve
your angelic graces, with me?
Become hard and indifferent, you say
to combat the ignorance at hand?
Learn not to care, at all?
And you love me with the play of a child
With your love, my great fear is an illusion
and I dragged my body through the streets long enough
to decide to uncover the ferocious will lying inside
that would be required to overcome that pathetic weakness
and to destroy that paranoia, that warm hill of ants
But at your soft request
all of your fine self refinements
are too close to the great heat
of your powerless will
and you have to calm that shitty little ego
if you ever hope to gain control over yourself
Wait, weren't you in command of the warmth
of that ecstasy that one time you glimpsed it
and what was it you said, that this feels heavenly?
yes, you knew then, did you not
that everything was perfect
that worry, fear, hate were illusions
created by your own depraved inner child
and that you can't lie with your self denials?
Weren't you the one who uttered those words
that made you feel truly alive, and awake
“This is what it feels like to be truly alive”
and didn't it radiate directly from within
from that fire, that source, the heart?
Didn't you show me that magic feeling
that indescribable glimpse, that true bliss
and do you remember taking that first glance
towards that great and "fearsome" mirror?
Oh, you knew it then, did you not
why can't you love me now, my depraved self asks
Oh yes, that's correct, the walls you build
Full of nauseating, disgusting, contemptful bricks
And god, please don't make me do it
deconstruct you piece by piece
But why are you so afraid
of showing tenderness and your sweet emotion
Oh that's right, you call it weakness
Well then, I proclaim your 'strengths' pathetic
But do not forget your face
that ever 'important' transient surfaceness
our skin is soft, like silk, it’s comforting
and yes, I do sleep on your pillows
and you just got to learn the art of charisma
so that you’ll no longer fear going to work
no longer fear interacting with people
and then you’ll no longer profess anti-work beliefs
you’re not really lazy, you’re just afraid
and so I would say, trace your fear to its source
And I do not sing for the rabble, but only the few
Who will really hear these words
And don't let those silent doubts haunt you
Those, my friend, are your weakness
and with every aborted fetus, a victory won
But there's no peak to be ascended here
your functioning is quite alright in my eyes
your tastes do indeed satisfy me alright
I'm okay, you're okay, we're okay
But your keen, gentle frankness
does much to impeach your modesty
and oh god, please hear these words
I want to see you, and you see me
But a mask is an important thing
If you ever want to fit in, that is
And so let it build, so that you can enjoy the pleasures
Of the mundane, the ordinary, the average man
And please allow me a few words on society
plastic people, television porn, false dreams
and everyone is asleep in their dream
and nothing is really ever spoken in secular art
than the robotic ravings of a disturbed mind
and thus said, please forgive me for speaking
and take a long look at yourself, please
do you really even know yourself?
and yes, I guess I’m willing to risk it all
just for a shot, a tiny taste of it
but what is it?
And it shows how sick this world really is
When all you want to do is to be real
And yet you are forced by fear to lie?
And it’s the contempt of the lie you must overcome
And you gotta learn the gentle art of lying
and sometimes I feel as if I am surrounded by blank faces
of the mundane, the ordinary, the average, the mad
and thank you god, that I'm not sad, like them
and no one thinks but in a dream, haha
and no one really speaks anymore, to anyone
and no one really feels anymore, except in obsession
obsession that dares to call itself ‘love’
and a momentary rush of feelings
and baby, you think you know it all
and when it all comes rushing back to you
don't say that I didn't ever warn you
and curse my goddamned pretension
and there is nothing I despise more
than my own mask, that I am forced to wear
by a world that just doesn't give a shit or care
But oh baby, I don't think you could endure
one frank stabbing word of truth, no I don't
And you wonder if I am talking to you
and yes I am, what else can I do?
I thought I was trapped in my proudly proclaimed fate
but no, maybe that great 'freedom' can wait
that pathetic freedom that the ego wishes for
like an immature little child wanting to break free of its master
And these aren't really my words at all
but the whispering of a silent unsatisfiable muse
And yet still, in your great curiosity
you still seek to know me, and I to you
and do not deny me your state of grace, Lord
and I'll do anything, anything at all
and what did that mean, I don’t know
it’s the words of a depraved mentality
and please lord, burn all of my papered words
and either love me please, or deny it all
I’m ready for your saving grace, Lord
And I’m tired of thinking and saying
“your own thoughtless stupidity
leaves you in your own personal deserved Hell”
And why won't you look at me?
is this not what you wanted to see?
so take a look at one of your great outcasts
I thrive in the strength of your subtle sickness
You mundane, you ordinary, you average man
and what's that, you don't like the metallic harshness of sin
Well then baby, maybe you shouldn't have been swallowing bullets then
and yes, little innocent child
this world is quite an evil and sickening place
and has your innocence not yet broken?
and so hurry up and die, child
no one really wants you here
no one really wants you here
and you should plant yourself firmly in the ground
and it’s only because, little child
you refuse to look at the colors of the world
It’s all about me, me, me, to you
And your selfishness causes me to miss the beauty
and what good have you brought to the world?
Another greedy little mouth to feed
another pathetic petty virus to spread
spread your disease and get it over quick, please
I’m growing very tired of you being in charge, ego
and sometimes I really do not like my face
for wearing it the way I do
and sometimes I used to worry
what would I be without my face?
But if you start to doubt yourself,
you'll begin to become filled with fright, scare, fear
and we both know the paranoia
of where that road leads
and it’s simply the natural outgrowth of human consciousness
and it’s the dirty scientists that are trying to control
and the main stated goal of psychology
is to control, to control, to learn to control the mind
and I don’t think psychologists have your best interests in mind
but if you look at it from above, detached
do you really like those clouds you dwell on?
But what am I supposed to do, I asked?
and what were those little words
of such gentle ferocious truth
Oh yes, you wanted freedom
Well, in nature, only the strong survive
And are we humans not indeed animals at heart?
And why can't you simply rest, and be content
at the sight of your gentle beauty
and what more do you want from me
a soft light or a hard self-overcoming?
And those are depraved words
but you just don't understand, you whisper to me
your soft lips caressing my large ear
But with you I am okay, my friend
When we hold hands together, agreeing
nourishing my spirit ever so gently
and what did I do to deserve
your angelic graces, with me?
Become hard and indifferent, you say
to combat the ignorance at hand?
Learn not to care, at all?
And you love me with the play of a child
With your love, my great fear is an illusion
and I dragged my body through the streets long enough
to decide to uncover the ferocious will lying inside
that would be required to overcome that pathetic weakness
and to destroy that paranoia, that warm hill of ants
But at your soft request
all of your fine self refinements
are too close to the great heat
of your powerless will
and you have to calm that shitty little ego
if you ever hope to gain control over yourself
Wait, weren't you in command of the warmth
of that ecstasy that one time you glimpsed it
and what was it you said, that this feels heavenly?
yes, you knew then, did you not
that everything was perfect
that worry, fear, hate were illusions
created by your own depraved inner child
and that you can't lie with your self denials?
Weren't you the one who uttered those words
that made you feel truly alive, and awake
“This is what it feels like to be truly alive”
and didn't it radiate directly from within
from that fire, that source, the heart?
Didn't you show me that magic feeling
that indescribable glimpse, that true bliss
and do you remember taking that first glance
towards that great and "fearsome" mirror?
Oh, you knew it then, did you not
why can't you love me now, my depraved self asks
Oh yes, that's correct, the walls you build
Full of nauseating, disgusting, contemptful bricks
And god, please don't make me do it
deconstruct you piece by piece
But why are you so afraid
of showing tenderness and your sweet emotion
Oh that's right, you call it weakness
Well then, I proclaim your 'strengths' pathetic
But do not forget your face
that ever 'important' transient surfaceness
our skin is soft, like silk, it’s comforting
and yes, I do sleep on your pillows
and you just got to learn the art of charisma
so that you’ll no longer fear going to work
no longer fear interacting with people
and then you’ll no longer profess anti-work beliefs
you’re not really lazy, you’re just afraid
and so I would say, trace your fear to its source
And I do not sing for the rabble, but only the few
Who will really hear these words
And don't let those silent doubts haunt you
Those, my friend, are your weakness
and with every aborted fetus, a victory won
But there's no peak to be ascended here
your functioning is quite alright in my eyes
your tastes do indeed satisfy me alright
I'm okay, you're okay, we're okay
But your keen, gentle frankness
does much to impeach your modesty
and oh god, please hear these words
I want to see you, and you see me
But a mask is an important thing
If you ever want to fit in, that is
And so let it build, so that you can enjoy the pleasures
Of the mundane, the ordinary, the average man