Still, still, in the silent revelation
of an undiscovered thought,
violent by nature
tempestuous
undertones of gradient succes
mindless tests,
confrontational mess

still the new leaf, lovers in the light of
fright,
the night with milky shades of sight,
sound as still, still, like the silent revelation
of an undiscovered thought

wake to still
calm thy head
the cavities of
unrest,
numbness at best
mess, of mind
tangled thread
much, too much
mild mannered
maneuvers, meek,
passive and complacent
stuck in the basement of
forward moving stagnant
lowly, little steps
descending, ascent pending
for a revolution
jacket too stiff,
no peace from
pollution,
human heart pollution
grey faced institutions,
failure soup,
smooth money,
compelling sandwhich
of gold-toothed grannys
insanity,
death’s locker a
spray painted
noir
and n’er to do better
than sell, sell
the well wishers
a lock of lamentable
whiskers,
unshaven unclean
a force of mean
momentary pleasure
of possession,
empty
and quick in succession
your price,
of niceties
is too high for me
eyes red with subtlety

The man of deeds who lacks the word
is simple, stupid and absurd.
He works and struggles all the day
for nothing more than mindless pay.
He loves the rich and thinks them smart
for gaining through their lack of heart.
He loves his boundaries; worships rules;
considers those who break them fools.
His mind is closed; his world is small;
he has no words to think at all.
His conversation tends to stink
because he never learned to think.
His only drive is buying more;
he's little but a Hoople *****.
He does and does and that's enough,
if he can just keep buying stuff.
He never questions what he's told;
he's just a thing that's bought and sold.
And when it is his time to die;
he'll lack the words to wonder why.
- mce