Illusion’s Garbage By Richard Lynn Livesay

 Electric currents shocking my mind

Swirling universes in motion I find

A sawdust spirit floating in time. 

Signals of mercury climbing through space

Bouncing light neurons slowly taking my place

Rhythms of sound reflecting mirrored moonbeams 

Throwing brain shadows into cosmic strings.

Heart valves splash; swish, bleat and thumped

Intellectual intensity is invariable trumped.

My spirit whispers,"become conscious of me"

 But I keep spinning a web of involving non reality 

And continue convulsing and babbling silently.

The clouds within my mind to clear

Upon my pillow a dream too near.

Chained like a mad man to the earth’s crust,

A slave in line to be bought and sold.

I beg for crumbs of truth and search for light

But giant garbage bags of human debris fall

As they starve, are raped; even poisoned with lies,

Genocide, electrocution and armies of stupidity

Incinerate, invade and indoctrinate with death.

Unwanted, I recycle the hypocritical trash upon my head,

Rewire…dust off, then steal dirt from the streets of pity

As the ice melts, I breathe sulphur and carbon dioxide.

Wearing the sackcloth of delusion, my teeth drip with pseudo-guilt

Watching bodies hang from church steeples, indecently

 Pastors pray for answers then pass the plates

 A call for sleep but the thief on the cold stone floor of justice, steals even my pride, leaving me the stench of  noxious inequality.

Brainwashed in the prisons of smoke and mirrors, wrapped in hypocrital laws and faux patriotism, I curse the power brokers and wealthy plutocrats as I continue to control only my TV, ice and coffee makers.

Bat’s blood sandwiches are advertised to influence my vote and paycheck. Drugs for symptoms only

(side effects are paralysis and slow death)

A whisp of smoke within the willow

Makes me cry upon my pillow.

Political divisions subvert the truth with dark room whispers seeking drunken paths to billionaire’s freedom and numbing consciousness to the reality of economic slavery as the top one percent owns all plantations and might hire me for slaves wages.

Number 666o112X ME & U2... are statistical ghosts and will be remembered as such when rivers cry with bloody bodies from lack of healthcare but insurance and pharma stocks soar as we take a walk down Wall Street.

Uncovering the corpses in my mind, I find I’ve been sold to the highest bidder…and must serve my sentence in the halls of hypocrisy with only a cracked bell and slotted spoon to feed my soul. Vincent’s ear is featured on posters outside hospitals and maps to suicide points are handed out. Insurance is for the wealthy only.

I weep as flies crawl into unborn eyes; small bellies bloat with crusty lips that drink sewer water. Screaming at the eye of the needle, I curse as camels are deflated, downsized then inflated like our currency. I, consumer, like a frog, wait for flu bugs to crawl down so i may die.

From other dimensions, I readily understand the theory of weary. Work them into debt and they will be owned.

There has been

Little progress from the cave to the moon in human compassion and growth.

I pray for popcorn but am still delivered sweat-towels and rusty razorblades. My eyes cry but cannot look far into this rotten pit of shame as sheeple wait in line to be told the secret password.

Teach me how to accept my bruised-blundering malcontent which I find loathsome and dank, for to protest is a sliver in a billowing giant. Are we human experiments in a giant toilet bowl? Can we lift ourselves beyond greed and corruption and division into the light?

Or must we be chained to the old capitalistic system of greed, more, more, more. When is it enough? When can we enjoy our humanness and understand who we really are.

Within the willow tree I climb

To see above that I am fine

The smoke below is choking all

But there is choice before the fall.

 I seek to dance with gypsies in covered wagons; ride winged horses with elves and dragons; live in bliss like the king of dreams...and share my love within my means.

be treated as more than a discounted being. Giving,  caring and sharing; understanding we're more than a body and mind. Within is our truth; ask and find.

A whisp of smoke upon my pillow

A dream beyond just made me mellow.

a life to live, a life to give, a life to be, a life to see

and soon we'll know that we are free and we can live eternally.

 .

     Richard Lynn Livesay 2009