me and her we barely talk
like spies for different governments
I've tried extracting information
but I'm cut off, passing out
and I wake up every time
17, heart-broken with silence
blank stares scan my every evening
somehow I am still invisible
turning this into a cold green light
to explore the dark corridors of my heart
my thoughts turn to microfilms
and battle plans and secret blueprints
my cover's hanging by a thread
I'm now a fugitive with everything to lose
a secret agent in love with their handler,
the disembodied string of signs on glowing screen
how much emptier than this is it possible to get
because there is no home
and you can't just go back to the agency
one wrong step and charges vary
from espionage to treason
and there've never been any right moves
so now it's back to basics
A glorious hstory of jew in his array of spirit today
that rose on a dream where bona fide with proprietorship it posted its golden way in a suburban place near the bay.
This glorious monument of her time with mayoral sublime
and a museum grew a Buckminster Tavern extemporizing resound
she lie in midst of my siren that denizen Yankees.
Obama was the nicest guy - Intelligent and cool.
Comparatively speaking, his successor plays the fool.
Ridiculous and baseless tweets, The Donald can't avoid.
His recent missives indicate he's turning paranoid.
Barack Obama seems to be Trump's ongoing obsession.
Obama saved the U.S.A. from Bush-induced recession.
The Donald hates Barack's success and can't leave it alone,
and Trump, now "off the rails", claims Obama bugged his phone!
Trump's offered no supporting facts for his emphatic claim.
No warrants from the F.B.I. or C.I.A. to blame.
Perhaps he thinks Barack Obama has a super-power
that lets him fly high in the sky to break into Trump Tower.
So, do you wonder, Donald Trump, just where Barack is now?
Is he there behind the curtains? Is he in the walls somehow?
Is he watching from the ceiling? Is he in the chandelier?
Is he in your 15th closet? Do these thoughts fill you with fear?
Is he down at Mar-a-Lago, in the old groundskeeper's shed?
Is he disguised just like Melania, right there in your bed?
The truth may be much worse than that! Does it fill you with dread,
to realize Barack is living... deep inside your head?
Police the police
Police the people who police the police
They're out to get us!
Hold on to Power
At all costs!
Have you seen the Master Magician around lately?
He who shows you a mirror with his right hand
While he picks your pocket with his left hand
He whose tongue tells you tales of a bogeyman
As his eyes induce you to part with your keys
He who wears the most beautiful of masks
To hide the psychopath that lurks within
Have you seen this Master Magician around lately?
He who will empty your pockets and ask for more
He who will become the master of your home
He who will convince you: “its all for your own good!”
It is in our nature to deceive
When among apex predators
We hide our true intentions
In our minds
We make enemies of friends
Wary of what games they play
Friendships becoming wars of attrition
Subvert each other's eyes
Cloud each other's visions
And building intelligence caches
Waiting for the moment
To air out dirty laundry
To instigate and spread propaganda
A new era of Cold War
As if social interactions
Are but chess games
Who will sacrifice the pawns
Who will take the queen
Who will kill the king
Or are we but pretending to be jesters
Or rooks silently waiting in the corner?
Life's a beach
And then you die;
Your privacy's breached,
But you've nothing to hide.
Their argument's weak
And you still take their side.
Why is it that each
Time they further occupy
Our lives, there's not a peep--
No matter how humongous the lie?
Instead we continue to sleep-
Walk and push revolution aside.
If you care not for secrets to keep,
Don't open your mouth wide;
'Cause you can't have freedom of speech
With nothing to say. Open your eyes.
Where the fuck is all the fuss?
They keep track of every detail
And continue to follow us
Around; our footprints leave trails
To every part of us, ranging from our hate and lust;
Every letter in every email;
Every phone call to loved ones and people of trust.
Our whole lives are on sale.
Where the fuck is the anger and disgust?
They feel every spot like the blind feel Braille.
Shouldn't we be kicking up dust
Until there's no record or tales
Of our privacy? We must readjust;
We're crawling at a snail's
Pace while they grow more robust.
Ever heard of how Winston and Julia failed?