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#commercialisation
The grey ghoul masks, tan mummy wraps, black witch's hats and corpse green Frankenstein faces haven't hit the bottom of the bin before mince pies jockey for a place beside the hot-cross buns. Halloween and Christmas are squeezed together tighter than a coin’s width. Tinsel boy band advent calendars sell 24 chocolate milestones on the road to obesity. Supermarkets offer a sanitised Christmas religion rinsed away like bacteria on a chlorine washed turkey. They trade a childless nativity like pies without mince; sultan-less fruit cake; plum-less pudding; an unstuffed winter holiday roast. People wonder where our culture has gone: we sold it for a midden of conveniently packaged banality.
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Dec 4, 2024
Dec 4, 2024 at 10:29 AM UTC
Pies without mince
Fabricate    the world, tile                     by tile, Until the towers sway.      Overlook the foundations,      in your                     frenzy;      cement them another day.                   Let the buildings descend;            frightened            humans,            their lives        in jeopardy                 They felt         invincible,                 now are            vulnerable-                 their lives have become tardy.                                *        *       *                  the bird soars high above                  the streets are         empty                  its screeches                 for                  we are no                   more
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Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 12:33 PM UTC
Denouncement
I'm              drowning                          in light,                 In blinding light: Lights on cars; and buildings; and lit up trees lining lit up streets;              Houses with sills all lined in gold And diamond; silver glitter glued onto mould; Street lamps; and laser pointers; and Towers; neon lights dotted with flowers Of plastic sun; hoardings and billboards, With bright teeth and skin and red words Everywhere you turn, Telling you what you want And never knew you wanted; Shop windows; chandeliers; Presents for that time of year; Cell phone pylons with twinkling, Bright lights on top, like Christmas trees; Christmas trees, with stars and angels Speckled, Frosted, Dusted on the tops; Disgusting glare on sunglasses, And a smiting gaze along the arms; Bridges and fountains with gold poured on; Platinum bands in every size, laying all forlorn; Bedside lamps; and taxis; and taxi stands; Every window, but the ones Being jumped off of; TVs and refrigerators, opened Thoughtlessly at night; Screens shooting onto impassive glass That used to be faces; Cameras, going off in quick succession, Quicker than you can keep up; I'm drowning. We are taught desire, in light, We learn to read in light and scarlet letters of fluorescence We are blind, Now that the road is paved for us, To the light that was before.
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Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 10:20 AM UTC
Shards of Light
Lack-luster, in dull Clusters, tall pylons reign with Gods that look like you.
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Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 10:10 AM UTC
Plastic Crystals (haiku)