Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Cultural · #888894
This poem speaks for itself
What's your cancer, channel 13?
Is God just a hollywood Movie?
Is science and technology anti-human?
What then brothers and sisters?
Can your computer calculate your heart?
Is your life worth a 9 o'clock special?

Oh leave me, leave me alone!
You rotting stinking Beelazabub
I'm cut off from humanity.
In a pixel controlled universe,
I have become a nuclear vampire.
Just quit your evil beckonings!

I'm insane, Tom Joad became insane
I'm driving off a purple mountain
that has no majesties;
only death, death, death, lurid death
I've been mentally raped, tortured chemically
There are no answers and questions are tired.

Love is destroyed:
replaced by pornography
intelligent conversation is dying
for a dumb ryhme, I'm not lying
Life should not be this bad?
Is it all in my head?

I dream of dancing:
Maybe a waltz or even a polka-
With a beautiful woman.
I dream of great meetings:
And solving social dilemmas
Oh then I wake up!

Does anyone understand?
I am lonely in a way that cannot be defined
seething with anger all the time
Am I missing something?
Is the human race in stellar condition?
Maybe I'm an aberation:

But isn't the family dying also?
Saying "no" to watch a tv show?
How did the roman empire fall?
We all know that answer. Don't we?
As I ramble on I feel our future mostly gone
Slipping through

Atlas' hands into darker lands

Yes an a,a -- beer ration.
Should I follow Hunter or Hemingway?
No not yet, I have alot to say
and I am not that brave.

I vent myself to see the light
while saving myself from a less desirable plight.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/888894-Call-to-ArmsFrequency-Change