I don't get it

I don't get it

the stubbornest war mongers have nuclear bunkers for 

military hierarchy ,hand picked cabinet,  prime ministers and presidents

so when they've nuked a region and fried all the residents, destroyed all organic matter and left the air above their super- burrow radioactive for a thousand years....and the rest

they can claim something somewhere's been a success

Maybe I don't get it because it's so pathetic

We live under systems called democratic where Mandela was lucky to get out after  27 years solitary and Anders Breivik  is sentenced to a max of twenty-one in relative luxury and while I see why the scum sucking slags done it I'll never understand how the electorate  consistently accept transparent rhetoric and suck on it

You know when you just don't get some-thing

How any one could sanction a  kill at will leadership in the name of altruism . 

Slaughtering families while  proclaiming the champion of their liberty politically and spiritually with your vote and your backing and your succour and inspiration , 

for their own reward,

Now if you have an agenda or greed or are good to admit that its the benefits of the spoils of victory if only the drips, then I will try to feel you to gain understanding but to say nobody's that thick would be to ignore the probability of what's clearly laid out  . The pains set against the gains . The bribery bribing liability

But if you're gonna tell me that the politic of selfishness never ever seduced/thes your vote putting despots in credit

I'd shake my head just like this and impulsively confess "then I don't get it" 

Take,  rape as a spoil of victory . A remit as old as the hills. It requires a state of mind arrogant enough to crawl on top of a woman who's face is contorting in the liquidity of terror, whose body is convulsing under his testosterones , gasping, drowning and whimpering as shocked animals do

So does he usurp the chemical we engage to express mutual tenderness

Now I'm not so moronic that I can't relate to desire but that's too minor to related to a practice so epidemic it appears endemic

but being civilised

I don't get it

They said that there were 1 million people at the silver jubilee

Dressed in flags wearing flags brolleyed under union ain't no black in jack flags singing in the rain and watching boats go by patronising themselves; in honour of the most illusory career on the planet . Of a woman they'll only ever see through the propaganda machine who's never publicly stood for anything more than ded canon fodder.

The sheer irony of perks and serfs . Take the unemployed and the 7 million she enjoyed last year in farmer's subsidies and it would really wind me up if I let it but I'm trying to get it while the ambassador  argument doesn't add up.

They say she served . Well she visited troops in the second world war and she drove her own jeep and the horn went beep  and through the creation of Israel, apartheid, Mau Mau, and bloody sunday she got a good night's sleep and maybe that's what they wanted to see

 The epitome of genetic success of white dominance at the helm in the race of races and they're gonna back their breadwinner in the jostle for  places.

So this our nationalism :the external encircle of an ethically diametric inter-tribalism . A blueprint of the moronic devotion to football fanaticism , a vice I'll never decipher either . How the recreational pursuit of spectating a harmless non contact sport comprising  eleven or so guys you'll never meet converts to the physical action of me inflicting enough blind violence to separate your rib cage from your voice box because you might dare to support your team vocally, not to mention actually

Fuck you up in front of your kids and teach mine to do the same cause it's in his blood and 'e's a good boy ain't ya son

He'll be blue and his kids too in the designer labels of local FC in a parody of Celtic Saxon Gaelic Greek Umbrian south American sub Saharan survival for the dominance of hunting plains rivalry cultivated into a gladiatorial arena

Only thing is we all live in square boxes and think through them. The buffalo are provided by tescos who are apt to assure that every little bit helps . So if our life cycles are desperate clones in mutual agreement I'm never gonna get it

I know it's a free world. That you can have rigamortis injected into your forehead to preserve an impression of some eternal fertility. You can be a fat slob with washboard abdominal implants. You can buy stocks of red meat discounted on sell by date, whilst priding yourself in personal ethics that would see you rip your friends off even to the pittance of pint money so that you can afford to dress ghetto fabulous, drive a flash motor around the manor and quantify your greed by calling it the achievements that your god said you deserve. It seems that everything is sanctioned by a blurb and I don't seem to get it

Thank my God for poetry cause  I can at least address it

Dan and his mrs

Her mouth was a premeditated birth hole of trouble and she wound him up like the threat of anal penetration

 

It's foetal juices regurgitating and he would have septic traumas rupturing his wretched soul

Fuck she was belligerent 

He rode the waves with diligence until it became far too insulting to his intelligence and he ripped a hole in the sky with the verbal charge that thundered from his teeth and past his chewed lips, drawn in the heat of unsaid battle. For footmen and centurions and musketeers and gun have never known war without the interaction of fear and provocation and he was in danger of eating his own ears just so he could spit out the din she made for him to swallow

This is how they danced following the pink haunted grafitti of her emails where she could find him across a hundred  waters

They had a field day turning the lake of sea and cake into a trench, and  texts were as savage as a slaughterhouse  of stolen sheep 

Between the letters was the  DNA fungi of twin shadows dancing a frenzy of twisted folk

Now a cushion can bear so many pins until it submerges into its  crippled self but compelled toward foreplay she would  pull his martian carcus apart  with stallions from Venus

 She tore layers of  complacent skin off of  his romantic eyelids 

so he retorted from a blitz of decapitated pores that grasped at the collateral damage of homeless blood cells for co-dependant survival;

Their threats were more unholy than billionaires bets , but by the grace of  phenomena and passion they were reborn in a repetition  of anticlimactic ritual

Lucy gone

Her name is Lucy

I can't help seeing her as more captivating than the full moon at the end of June accessorised with jet stream  boas 

She drove a wedge between me and reality until she and only she became  

normality

and for a while there I actually believed in angels :

that cynics were frustrated souls imprisoned in themselves and I had been saved by a passing carriage with a reserved ticket to be cynical no more but as blissful as an emperor bathing in his very own river 

And when she left she didn't close the flipping door and all that replaced her was a freezing wind that sliced me like a guillotine crystalised into a sheet of ice not once or twice but with serrated vindictiveness thumping me back into the monotonous hole of rigmarole across parched jagged rocks to the barren riverbed  I came from

But I got wrecked on the rocks

WHAT COMMUTERS LOOK LIKE

I know what commuters look like 

They walk 140 steps a minute marching  unconsciously to Mecca-troplis

farmed with enough palm oil to keep dependants tethered to the fold

They queue in erratic designs of civil lines tired of concealing their apathy with virtue, disenchanted with the collective, resenting the regime and their regiment

They  stampede battery style to herd in pens

where modified inter-rivalries replace  moos with stunted abbreviations of 'sorry' and puffs of submission

This is the tallest they'll stand and the widest their senses will radar till same time same place tomorrow. Kenetically homed in on the absolute conviction that they are the cogs in the wheel that need to be fed and diligence is a cruder oil than the one that runs

So's you know

If I said starving Somalians make illuminate rub their hands with glee

would you still see me as a personalised  MTV in 3D to be rewarded with some sordid applaud

It's easier to camouflage the basis

of our relationship with entertainment status

since you're the secondary beneficiary of empirical tyranny

though together we're bar codes to the primary families

Their lobbied secretaries scribble soundbites and shuffle them into secular circles for mass consumption

then recline in a malaise of moralised masturbation

And it only warrants a wince if you're not convinced that kate's actually a princess and horse-mouth a prince 

Systematic that the system's adequate in establishing a more than satisfactory dragnet

and it's pragmatic mathematics that a fraction will not be attracted to the magnet

so a raging Briton staging a sit-in outside St Paul's

can paraphrase scarface

all I have is my word and my balls

Myself ? 

I'm no more high brow than low grade calico so as I speak see this as an introduction to a geek. Not to self deprecate 

but I will perpetuate centuries of hate if you will keep trying to attach that rusty chain AND dangle my strings

I'd challenge your altruistic  supportive chorus of Arab springs

and cloak and dagger benevolence

See I  tuck Brits into neat boxes of  fuck whits

effete tossers, wannabe beat coppers and abstaining cock blockers

Don't take offence

That's the manifestation of artistic licence. 

You wanna hear when I get anarchic stepping on toes of god knows but it's cathartic since the devil consistently prompts me to host him 

but  I'm the blood type of the 13 percent

the  afterbirth of malfunctioning desent

banged up in the prison of religion and bailed out by atheism 

I'm a Soledad brother with monty's 

python

If you can get down with that

...........

nice one

Now being far more cynical than stereotypically critical 

I write as a conditioned reflex to

relay the rudiments of relativism

My story is verbally high tec with a core of simplicity

The same as ultra modern domesticity in design but defined in the mind

We spend too much time  accommodating  nonsense 

It would help if time stood still

the slate was wiped for us to re-write our own invites and we could chill

But don't we love our metropolis

these fucking toilets

where I went from being a good bloke to a footnote with a hook 

Generalisations being speculations based on groundless equations

and one love is closer to one big joke to be remote ; and I quote

Thank the almighty hostess there's a process of osmosis

though I don't welcome blud, bruv, fam, big man, or the Trojan affection 

Yous can go take a run and jump 

I couldn't give a smelly dump of an aqua lump

See an egg is not a shell

It's only the outer frame that's seeped in the game of dividing and conquering as the first step of engineering the end product of profiteering 

Facts are wrapped in bullshit

made too complex for you to consider having a bar of it

In the great scheme of fake dreams we'll be forgiven for 

climbing over each others tears for a lifetime of being survival driven

where lucifer's only task is altering  his mask 

he cottoned on to four and eight bar timing and

manipulated sociopathic  rhyming but he's just chasing

I'm still climbing

When i hit the summit I'll rest

And though he'll try his best 

I'll be drifting on a raft of my  cleft

dissipating fermented shock waves

For I'm repelled from the 87% stock of voluntary slaves

to merge enlitenment in the psychedelic veins of autumn leaves    

and fission with nitrous oxides,  floating violin strings ,  channel hopping psycho kinetic encyclopaedias and bio-degradable orgasms,

I've deflected the viral pandemic of egos , the synergic  waltz of treasurers and taxpayers , cunts and victims

for the seduction of transcendental evolution fuelled from ambrosian muscles  of Guyanese mango

the  peripheral is far preferable to the narrow orbit of your inner circles

where a birds eye turns into poetry

What's laughable is who you think I am

Now get your head out of your ass ,

 in the pram