The World, a Debate Table
.original spoken-word by @d-pend
.
featuring art by skottieyoung
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The World, a Debate Table
Mad hatters of debate
Took hands off the table.
Unable to make eye contact,
Wrecked by ideology toxic
We smooth frolick.
Flock to the cinemas
To make celebrities more idolatrous.
Screenlaid dialouge unrealistic
Horrific cost of living.
Buy more junk terrific
For collections to collect dust.
Must layers on rust prayers recyled.
Gaffle steady, musket ready to blare.
Have you tried our lush lunch menu?
Got the best gunpowder there.
Exploding youth rollicking on tubes
Float down the river drunk, get sliver sunk.
Splinters in the finger—deep glass shards,
Cathartic chieftan be sequined
Diabolical rulers don't fool me.
With fancy robes ravenous for winter cataclysm,
They keep the population uneducated/entertained.
Everything is physical!
Admit it or be proclaimed deranged.
Worship the empirical,
Let it seep into your brain.
Check the list of thought crimes;
take care you're never sane.
If you are, unwind.
Re-spool me, my threads got a bit frayed.
Respun by the movies engrained archetypes;
When life ain't goin' Disney I'm dismayed.
But I'm fine, I'm fine mama.
Don't worry, I scurry quick.
A plucky one, scrappy in conflicts:
Routed automation elation throne bone to pick.
Sick tunes bruh! Forreal G.
Sic' me with the mob,
Guard dog god draughts on tap, bip boop bap.
Elaborate snap the shaped gap recedes.
They plead and plead,
Monks medieval smiling sip—
Stay lit on honeyed mead.
With water polluted only spirits are safe, germless.
Burn this manuscript to skew the truth
Ignorant bliss under the eaves straight searchlit
By a curt order court-given.
Limbs for fuel cut into the furnace rough-riven,
Beautiful braids sewn up with the right ribbons.
Look good on the surface
And forget what you're given.
People can't handle, got on Jain sandals
Sweepin' the ground. Crush no bugs no pain no death,
Insect-plant-animals, even vitamins are massacred.
Laquered magazines preach acceptable viewpointers;
I'm too jointed, folded origami-up.
They mobilize militias
To scream and social-bomb our sup.
Eat nothing, don't murder poor vegetables!
Bacteria kept in concentration skin-camps
To ferment the inevitable into vitriol.
Starve yourself love; martyrdom is sexy.
Schismatric congregations,
Elected officials smile through lies.
You wanna die? Cessation the myth,
Only continuity exists.
Persist in ignorance, get blasted by the master.
Gone within without rambling on,
Word-boundaries shattered at dawn's break.
I may be mad, but a hatter
Sure tabled the debate.
Written by
@d-pend
8/9/18
.
Art by
skottieyoung
.1 (and 4) — "Lost Vegas II"
2 — "Cheshire Cat"
3 — "Dorothy Yellow Brick Road"
Notes
The rebellious mindset is one that's nostalgic for me, and one that plagued me throughout adolescence and early adulthood. It's not that there aren't benefits to this attitude, but its inherent toxicity does catch up with one eventually. It is not unusual to be dissatisfied with the status quo, given the seeming monstrosity of our modern society.
It is much more difficult and rather disturbing (not to mention an exceedingly rare achievement) for a human to attain the realization that reality is perfect as it is, when seen from the context of the entire universe. Though simple, it is hard to accept. Fully absorbed in this comprehension, it can be challenging to create anything.
Yet in the state where all knowledge is held in abeyance—in the visceral balance of receiving-and-giving the universe provides: using forms and symbols as tools to vanish asymptotically into That Which Is—free of attachment and fettering thought, where life becomes so poignantly real and exquisite, even in its savagery: there is a voice which says, "Create."
