ODE TO A DYING WORLD

taking the risk of being slapped-on the label INSANE by any passers-by and therefore being further segregated from the rest of ‘humanity’ than i already am – getting into the whole poetry thing really just happened lately. this phase is probably all over again now, after this,  but it seemed to express how i felt about the world in the most appropriate way during the past couple of months. close friends know anyway that i’ve never been more vital and clear than i am now. they also know that there is an extremely rational and sincere trajectory behind everything that i’ve been doing, always upholding the TRUTH and dismantling the LIE.

also i want to state this clearly here – the subject matter of worldly deception and persecution of humanity through dazzling means is actually not my main concern. my main mission, analyzing the human predicament and sexually antagonistic psyche, wouldn’t need to take into account ‘politics’ of any kind. but as i’ve tried to briefly outline on facebook the past couple of weeks, only complete fools would regard historical developments simply as ‘evolution’. and as far as i can see anyone trying to bring up this subject this time and age is either dead now or buried deep underground. so here we go. i’ve laid out the trails for anyone interested to follow the main road of how conspiracy or ‘world governement’ came about (rather than wallow in whining sensationalism). i can and will not explain this more explicitly. it’s all there for those who truly want and need to know. some things are simply ‘unspeakable’. so in other words, i’m walking with the gods, not against them. they, of course, know that i’m doing this :)

now i’m going back to the main work that remains to be done. my outdoors advertising efforts have become bigger and stronger. it’s quite funny to see how people have come to only take into account BIG things, these days. couldn’t you call that mindset, in a way, utterly despiccable? is anything small worth less just because of the fact that it’s not-so-big, or even small? i guess that’s one lesson to be learnt from history further unfolding …

the other part of my work is shedding ever more light into the last remaining mysteries of psyche and the whole male / female questions.  i’m doing that with those three novel projects i’ve been working on (and mentioning occasionally) for quite some time now.

‘virginizer’ is about a guy who discovers that he’s got the supernatural ability to change women back into virgins again. turned by the media into a superstar he subsequently discovers how perilous and petty the world really is and while in earnest failing a succession of women, finally, unexpectedly, meets  his ‘one’ …

‘carnage’ is about police seargent jason pepper facing a series of ritual killings of ‘alpha males’ in his city. somehow three mysterious women seem to be associated with it while in the end, the question is being raised whether it is gods calling the shots or humans, for causing any cultural changes of climate …

‘hooked’ is about a cool guy, cesar, who’s ‘seen it all’, only to have settled for a simple life as a builder. he lives with two very different call girls in a very happy relationship and is one day being contacted by an intellectual director couple working on a high profile documentary on ‘urban freaks’. clashes of all kind follow …

okeydok. manwhile, hope the following poem can unlock some of those nasty bolts clamped around hearts and brains and helps all those to finally wake up that have been intoxicated by deception and lies into otherwise ‘eternal regret’.

——————————————————–

ODE TO A DYING WORLD

denigrated, disenchanted and disenfranchised
not anymore seeing and hearing those closest and dearest.
invisible walls erect. blotching out neighbours, friends, partners.
busy denouncing, competing, complaining.
slave execution of instilled group canon programmes.
poor little me. just wants to be liked. part of a ‘mother’ party.
ha ha ha. it’s so cool. muchy funny jumpy micky.
fireworks popping. tails wagging. aimlessly hopping about.
settling in for the collective conduct of ‘sincere pretence’.
only the media seems real. getting the daily fix all-important.
more than happy to pay, no matter how much.
crackpot haphazard circus chickenshit.
shaken and stirred, vomited and re-inserted.
until filled to the brim.
nasty venom, lurid and caustic blackness.
sealed off from truth and kindness.
a zombie-monster, though love and success seem real and in sight.
loop doomed to stick it in and take it out.
me, me, me.
no one and no thing at all
entering the gate of no-life.
and that’s the naked end of it.
tears not being shed.
sentimentality’s been a blindfolding lie all along.
the inverted principles of the three realms are ruthless.
being drowned in the sea of suffering without mercy.

the blaring sheep stream pours down into the abyss.
happy, dazzled, anaesthetised.
wearing different colour ribbons. festively draped fashion victims.
free and individual. all so nice. almost flying off into the sky.
look how beautiful i am.
even the furnace in front looks like heaven.
so many promises and hopes. even great expectations.
poor sheep. sacrificial lambs. wiped off the historical slate.
… just like that …

devils smirking. jealousy won.
you see, lord god, lord buddha, great dao?
the golden body. masterpiece of masterpieces. i want.
biting poison. eating entrails.
passed down through the entire pyramid.
until reaching the rats gnawing away
on each other’s fecal jewellery.
feigned meaning in vying and fighting.
ignorance, lust and petty desires.
blatant self-interest fake purpose of life.
trampling tradition. outbidding friends.
all forgotten. no history. no friends.
all lies. no future.
not even present.
except ghosts and snakes feeding away
on whatever goodness is left inside.

deserved or not deserved?
blaming others for own faults and shortcomings.
self-pity. wallowing in mediocrity.
always killing the ones more capable than ourselves.
boredom. hypocrisy. passing time.
knowing not.
no matter how high the achievement.
still all for naught.
we mortals. born again and again.
prison of samsara. fate and necessity weaving.
how lucky to have a human body.

for all those stepping forward and out of it
the future cannot be more …
words fail. human notions fail.
the most beatific art might as well be the lowest of forms.
adamantine. diamond-like. never degrading.
the divine gong of dafa gushes in.
radiance effervescent.
gods, daos, buddhas, never again tired and ageing.
floating. mighty benevolence without bounds.
LIFE
buoyant matter dances, is, flickers, rejoices.
into the deepest of depths and greatest of greatnesses
of the micro and macro

London, July 2012

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