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Within each and every one of us
is a unique culture:

reaches just as far inward
as it does outward:

Just because
has imposed it's own
fascist, totalitarian, absolute
does not mean
that it has final say:
i postulate
such adacemic-fetishism
is merely a byproduct of
pushed by Big Money
rather than
a genuine insitution
of respectable edification:
that is
i see it as
a mere appeal
to authority;
a well-known logical fallacy
to those who are in the know.

Tread lightly.

Modern Academics
seems to be
yet another
corrupt branch
of Business;
little more.

Academic achievement
is not equivocal
to intellectual worth:

a graduate's degree
is moreso
a status symbol
than it is
a credential

'T'is vile idolatry
in lieu of
an individual's personal philosophy;
that's not to say it's
absolutely worthless,
but it may as well be
in today's job market
(unless it's a business degree!)

Then again,
that's just my opinion.
i guess i oughtta shut up
before Edu-nazis shut me down.

Oops, did i type that out loud?
I'm so sorry, you see,
vhat i meant to say vas:
Heil Stanford!
Heil Harvord!
Heil Berkley!
Heil vhat i am told zu heil!
Heil zhe publishing companies!
Heil zhe holders of student loans!
Heil egredious student debt
in lieu of philosophical discourse,
let alone progress!

Heil vhat i see on TV!
Heil *******!
Heil alkohol!
Heil gasoline!

Do not qvestion zhe dogma;
go back zu sleep, you sheep!
Yet another write intended to be easily digestible by the masses, without any sort of difficult, contentious, or otherwise thought-provoking material so as to preclude any sort of discomfort or disagreement.
Written solely to be popular and to reinforce the status-quo.

Maybe I should stick to music. Y'know, something everyone can agree on. ;)

Jace Kassem Nov 2015
Have you ever heard
Of the said-free bird
Whose legs are chained still?
He looks ahead
He bobs his head
And sings in a voice, so shrill.
He's told he's free
He's told of glee
He's told of joy and thrill
Oh, how I cry
For a bird who doesn't fly
But is told that it's his will.
Monica Figueroa Oct 2015
I’ve grown weary of those who claim
A false tense of enlightenment
So bored of vast displays
Of neon pigments and entitlement  
For where the fairies walk
And spirit hooded figures talk
I cannot find, cannot divine
Where soul and ego bear to walk…
( in unison )
So permissive is this culture,
That I feel the eyes of vulture
Preying on the weak and un-avowed
In what kind of world is this allowed
(to continue?)
But who am I to question,
The laws, the rites of these transgressions
I am merely just an actor  
An inconsequential factor
But I do I dare deny
That in your dogma there’s a lie
For all the glitter in the world
Cannot turn **** into a pearl
Copyright 2015 Monica Figueroa
theunrealist Oct 2015
Who gave you the key to my cage?
I've embraced my death, like its love or compassion.
Four blank walls, suppressin my guessin.
Born into this, pulled out of it, now where do I go from here?
Colors fade.
Ideas change.
Defamation of the martyrs stage.

Never agreed to be freed.
Rusted metals attached to me.
I'm forced to drag it around,
Until the limb gives out.
To learn to live is what im limping toward.
But where do I begin?
Colors change.
Ideas fade.
Evolution of the modern age.
NewAgeOfAnarchy Jan 2015
"The only refuge from political dogma and oppressive is anarchy."

Michael Cross Jr.
2015 copyright Michael Cross
BianchiBlue Aug 2014
dialects of dogma in the corner
coffee shop - I recognized them
too easily, as an expatriate  
heard clearly in the crowd across the square,
where I’d rather be blending in,
forgetting my mother tongue, speaking
an unknown language, written
by the dust of my boots, learned  
through the salt of my skin, weathered  
as the pages of my Bible are worn  
and consumed alone  
with God in the corner  
booth of this coffee shop

— The End —