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Here we are
Toy soldiers, Barbie dolls
Monopoly money flying off the shelves
As intentions remain disguised,
A rush hour to nowhere.
Suspicion hangs heavy in the air.
Fingerprints of greed upon the land,
Stain the walls and smear every surface,
Tearing our world apart
Entangling us in a labyrinth of lingering agony.
As financial empires crumble and fall,
We tumble towards a dismal crown.

Here we are
A shot heard around the world
Misdirection concocted with twists of propaganda
A sinister plot to keep us quiet
While economic doom looms large,
Forcing us to gasp for breath in its tort.
We are sliding into a sea of hell,
Crafted with a sinister dusk,
Leaving us trapped in uncertainty.
A bipartisan fakery,
A manufactured reprieve of endless war
Bacchanal Celebration of the uniparty,
To keep us all in the duality
Of a totalitarian doomsday cult of our own making,
With ties to the darkest corners,
Where shadows dance in the hue.
Why did George Orwell paint a future so dire
Of totalitarian control, a world on fire?
To blackmail us into believing
We are incapable of repelling it,
Pressuring us to fear, to tyranny.
Wall Street proclaimed, "Greed is good,"
A mantra repeated, understood,
Molding our minds, shaping our views,
Enforcing belief in capitalism's ruse.
Political speech, a vile roast of reality,
A nonsensical tale of deceit,
Yet, within its twisted words,
Makes us struggle to comprehend our reality.
Revelations of a conning government,
Manufactured divisions run deep,
As secrets too dark to keep.
In the chaos of our unraveling,
We grasp for a glimmer of light,
But find ourselves lost in the darkness
Of a world consumed by blight.
Do The Right Thing, a mirror held to our face,
Amid conflict beyond repair.
We consume the lies, a terrible plight,
Believing we're powerless, as they've said.
Free falling into despair
Believing we're powerless as the moments fly by.

Here we are
We've been conned and betrayed.
In the shadows of towering skyscrapers,
Where dreams were once fashioned from thin air,
A secret kleptocracy aims to divide and deceive,
Bleeding us dry, as we unquestioningly believe
In our American uniqueness
Until we start blaming each other
While everything gets worse,
A dysfunctional elite
Building lies around dysfunctions
Inducing us into believing
Our eroding circumstances are our own,
As they steal our lives, forsaking us to atone.
Fake news media informs us to be angry and tribalized,
Daytime television warns our morality is compromised,
Local news instills fear in our neighbors, near and far,
As we celebrate masked actors, forgetting who we are.
Reality Tell-a-Vision doesn't tell our reality,
Preferably, it shows life's hedonistic strife.
Zombie television tells us the public remains our enemy.
Social media floods with existential rife,
With nonsense conspiracy theories and memes abound,
Telling us we're hopeless in a world so unsound.
On a never-ending track,
An all-time high in the belief that we are helpless,
No matter the bubbles we encase,
Bombarded with existential crises in every space,
A surge in apocalyptic film, literature, and games,
Telling us there's no way out of society's flames,
As we buy cans of Liquid Death, in our despair,
And drink Death Coffee to fuel our inner plight,
In this rotten farce, we see no end in sight.
For our entire lives, we've been led astray,
In a world where our strength is fading away,
Divided against itself in a power play so grand,
As we believe we're powerless.
But in the end, we're left alone,
In a world where truth is overthrown.
As we've been brainwashed with silent screams,
We find ourselves constantly shaking down.
Things escalate wildly in a world gone awry
Where Dr. Strangelove teaches us to stop and comply.
In the collapsed towers, nobody stands,
Only masked actors with bloodied hands
As we hurtle towards an inevitable brawl.

Here we are
Investigating the mountain of lies,
We uncover the truth, rotten to the core,
As vicious beasts roam in our streets.
Smoke and mirrors promise miraculous destinies,
But abandoning us stranded, battered, and frail.
In this desperate state of dying slowly,
Words ring true, screaming at us to wake up.
Yet suspicion clouds every intention,
As we ponder the reasons why.
The fabric of society frays at the seams,
As revelations tear through the veil,
Exposing the rot within our midst.
Our lives are a tangled web of deceit.
O say, can you see?
We are drowning in the sea.
On this moon of deception and decay,
We grasp for a semblance of truth,
But find ourselves drowning in the sea.
O say, can you see?
Did we go to the moon?
Why are we drowning in the sea?
Our Statue of Liberty is sinking fast and deep.
O say, can you see?
I'm begging you; can you see?
In the wreckage of shattered dreams,
We find ourselves lost in the debris,
Victims of a grand illusion,
Where reality is uncomfortable to see.
Terrified, yes, but unafraid to tell,
The tale of our time, the ringing knell
Of corruption and deceit,
We rise, we rise; we must rise above
In the name of truth, justice, and love.
O say, can you see?
              Can you see?
              Can you see?
Zywa Mar 31
We only 'conquer'

our own place in the world by --


living together.
Symbiosis (Living together): the "Survival of the fittest" (1864, Herbert Spencer) takes place within systems of symbiosis (1966, Lynn Margulis)

Collection "The drama"
Zywa Mar 22
The feeling you are

being used is not as bad --


as being unused.
Novella "De grote wereld" ("The upper world", 2006, Arthur Japin), chapter 9 --- Collection "Wean Di"
Robert Ippaso Mar 21
What am I?

I’m great fun and sometimes crazy,
Loud or soft with moods quite hazy,
Full of love, sorrow, unrequited loss,
One minute happy another sullen, cross.
I see the world in shades of neon gray,
Rarely do I care or anyone obey,
My vibes are epic, they constantly perplex,
Full of contradictions, invariably complex.
I can praise the Lord, drink myself into a stupor,
Stalking the room with unrequited humor.
*** is my go-to, gentle or pulsating,
Not always happy, at times tearfully heartbreaking.
I know the secret to capture every heart,
Life would be intolerable by keeping me apart.
Whatever you may think this is no passing phase,
I'm known to be pervasive and hound your mind for days.
My moods are epic, a journey to discover,
Your friend to soothe you or belatedly recover.

Come on - What am I?
One clue - the answer is a What not a Who
Zywa Mar 12
A tangled patchwork,

bits of all kinds of people --


that's how Mumbai was.
Novel "Two Years Eight Months & Twenty-Eight Nights" (which is 1001 nights, 2015, Salman Rushdie), chapter 2, Mr Geronimo

Collection "Low gear"
Spicy Digits Mar 3
We will burn you.

Your belly is full of power
That is not yours
The collective charge of a millennia of silenced people

Your greed is a starving parasite in a
a bloated carcass

Today she is rewarded with a diagnosis for her insight
Tomorrow he is fitted with a muzzle for his tenderness

We will burn you.
Man Feb 19
It's a good time
Hanging with animals,
Because there is no social pressure.
They merely love to live,
That is their pleasure.
There are no missed interpretations,
No alternate agendas;
Alive at nature's leisure
Zywa Jan 24
I'm a kind of half-

human, there are so many --


others I do need.
Novel "Buitenstaanders" ("Outsiders", 1983, Renate Dorrestein), § 1

Collection "Wean Di"
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