everything i stand for is alien here
everything i despise is rife
death is glorified at every corner
and trampled upon is life

you're not supposed to speak
but you're required to believe
kindness is called weak
and you're not allowed to grieve

war is peace, they say
ignorance is strength
now i find myself cast away
where lies are being fed at length

i gaze, unblinking, into the abyss
it gazes back, calling my name
i've always felt there's something amiss
with this wicked, cruel game

the game i chose not to play
the game that has no rules
the game you can't expect to win
the game so loved by fools

What is reality?
What is theory?

Sometimes four
Sometimes five

Sometimes both
Of them at once

Control the future
By controlling the past

Listen here, Oceania
War is peace

First, we'll give everything its due
Then say it never happened

Again and again
Until you believe it's true

The world will be connected as a fisherman’s net,
... and none to be alone, that you can bet,
Oh, what a world and a fate we have met,
The wealthy rule, rest are their pet.

I will tell you
the truth,
adjust and fine tune
till your view
matches
the matchstick
reality I made
for you.

I will cut and clip,
snip and rip
all of the
fanciful
fairy wing bits
that I want you
to forget.

I will mold
and distort,
stretch and contort
till your
red clay mind
conforms
to the norms
that I formed.

But if you dare despair
act scared
and air
your understanding
to try and repair
everyone’s
perceptions
of our shared
reality,

I will find you,
and take your rationality,
ostracize, or exclude
till you die
or submit to
the prechewed
military issued
world order
I eschew.

I'm captured
Captivated
The dimly lit room holds us
Locks the outside world to our own
Neuroses

We lick the faint fragile moments of
Tender
He's with another
He doesn't hold her body
Like he held mine
He looks away while she squirms
Giggles
Claws

He sits at the edge of the bed
Back toward her torso
While I lay
Legs spread
Waiting for the daylight to
Wake up the realism
The ideology
Memories of why you refuse
To exist for me

Why our bodies seem to
Slip into the same glazed over rhythmic patterns

absorbed
Stumbling
My own lips pining for
A mind of their own
A mind free of how it felt to be
Eaten alive
Stashed aside

An independent ignorance
of your design.

Rent today, own tomorrow,
A world of excess and material sorrow,
One likely to accumulate, what we call best,
Another will depreciate at their own behest,
Peaks arise from man's own wallet,
Enslaving children in far away squalor,
To keep her entertained, we need not bother,
The mother earth in her glorious colour,
Defined by time in it's infinite heap,
We reap what we sew, and so we reap.

as a lock i am content.
smooth metallic surface skin
(perfect shiny smooth so i smile)
mechanics behind eyes
mouths hands ankles
special functions each. i feel
content with my place, i feel
satisfied with my perceptions,
i am fulfilling my
daily roles, my existence
is justified, i feel physically
full – not from the stomach but from
the guts, not with food but with
blood like a rush-reaction
heating up, flushing red
like my lips after what we did
on my bed on saturday
(always slightly on edge with our
programmed satellite ears extended out
in case some innocent wandered in)

everything in its right place
my plodding daily satisfaction
(to satisfy mysthesystemelf)
no happy hours but happy days,
healthy children, healthy lifestyle
feeling pure and therefore proper
and therefore all is well.
i repeat. all is well.

i woke up today turned on
the coffee giant poured a cup,
drank the tar pleasantly surprised
by a peck on the cheek from my
husband_ kids sent off to school_
stayed at home all day_ husband
off to work_ came home, he came home_
i had a lovely day, thank you,
obligatory post-dinner ***
and
as a lock i am content.