This one's called 'Excommunicate', I have others that are better but few are better themed for this site. I may rhyme too much but it's essentially 'free verse' though I don't see it that way; I had this weird rhythm going on while I was writing it. There are plenty here that are better than me but I thought I'd share: Sliding off the billboard of the psyche. The grainy fibers of sleep, Pulled over to blind the counting Sheep. The neon-blue and green obscene, Strategically placed in my universe. To mold me like a Barbie Doll, To mold me in a bathroom stall. To make me believe that Five, Is the only thing keeping me alive, And is only the product of Two-and-Two. And to contrary we'll never debate; Time to Excommunicate. Unshackle from this church of slavery which, Shining like a disco ball, A tinselly bulb to tell you your desires, Whispers to you in your private moments; Like Satan, bargaining through the Fire. It's a painless death without remorse; It's the car replacing the horse. It's a vision of reality Carved out of children's skin. Molded in your vision, By the Medium to decide your fate. Time to Excommunicate. Your Petroleum Castle fits you like a glove, A rubbery warm wet suit; Squeezing your flabby ass, To make you feel security. While all the oily dead kines, Stimulate salivation in your dreams; Ones that once looked to Galaxies; Now look to the sesame seed bun; Do the seeds remind you of stars? Do the dead animals tell any tales? Do you ever follow your styrofoam plate? Will you ever Excommunicate? Does this place have to roast to free you? A pine-cone seed in a forest flame, The gas between the fibers of a log. Like an animal that knows, If it doesn't move, it's going to die. To that you have nothing veritably yours, There isn't any outrage, To that there's no Self, only capital meat; There is no courage; You must run or perish, You must run faster than it can inflate; You must Excommunicate.
