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by serge Wednesday, May 17 2017, 12:21pm
international / poetry / post

compound texts swirl
in circles
fictions feeding fictions
serving the priests of old
and the ruling elites of today
all weaving fantasies to believe in

scribes scratch lies onto mediums
of choice once papyrus
now digital

yet nothing has changed but the mediums,
false narratives persist unchanged
elites harnessing hordes maintaining
illusions, implanting behaviours
and nose-ringing almost all

the scribes of today know their art well
spinning lie upon lie until truth is smothered
but not extinguished, never extinguished

as of old some scribes adhere to truth, reality
which few read and those that do refuse to believe
such is the power of repetitive inculcation,
fantasies are more comfortable than hard reality,
reality demands people take responsibility
yet the masses feed like babies from the poison breast
of a whore, preferring it so

since before man could read or write those that rule
spun myths and legends to enthrall and terrify
their subjects maintaining their hold with fear

time is irrelevant it repeats itself, its ticking oscillations
refer to nothing of significance, no measure, no progress
only contrived notches on a circular face going nowhere
to which people remain fixated

clocks and texts lie as the body performs according to its own rhythms,
its eternal pulse
but man has lost connection and is buffeted by fabrications,

so what would rebel scribes do in vain
whisper or shout truth from the mountain tops
and valleys and listen to their own echoes?

the ears and eyes of humanity have ceased to function
as they were intended, only the words and designs
of ruling elites are heard as their message deafens and blinds
everything except the poison dreams of madmen

believe nothing, test the lies of contrived narratives
and realise that the beginning point is also the end point
just more meaningless movements on a circular face
endlessly repeating itself
going nowhere

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