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404
The magic of numbers conveyed in meaning not of words
The Judaic code of 666 meant the evil of Nero
Translated into the more modern evil Satanic myth
Priests easily manipulating the docile human herds
Always ready with the acceptable romantic hero
Always armed with some promising moralistic gift.
Psychopathic 101 opens the iron door
Orwell's nightmarish torture room
Clearly marked 101 on a brass plate
1984 lies open on the stone floor
Paving the way to the hero's tomb
For death is always the hero's fate
Tragedies arise bearing birthdates
Beckoning for emergency assistance
911 - a date and a telephonic life ring
An ominous date for the United States,
The same date of the death of Chilean resistance
The date when Mountain Meadow Mormon bullets did sting
Morbid Muslim extremists lethally kissing skyscrapers
Room 101 established in a dank Santiago prison
Kansas pioneers dying in the sun under the banner of God
The Koran nothing more than a guidebook for wisdom rapers
Rejecting all science except television and nuclear fission.
Sacrificial pioneer blood fertilizing Utah sod
They never knew what fate awaited them that day,
Hijacked planes rudely smacking life aside for Allah's vain glory,
Chilean children beaten to death by American trained fascist thugs,
September 11th, 1855, 1973 and 2001 dates of fate one can say
Death, politics and religion the theme of each story
In a world where wealth is based on weapons, corruption and drugs.
July 4th, 1776, a nation was born under God to rule humanity
Democracy distorted to serve commerce and trade
Sparking the seeds of emerging neo-Crusades
A melting pot of collective multi-ethnic insanity
Leading to a world where everyone must be afraid,
An iron fist to emerge as freedom fades.
Old feuds from Sumerian and Semitic deserts revived
Cultures condemned to repeat their crazy mistakes.
Isis and Ra reincarnated over and over again,
Moses, Jesus, Mohammed, Joe Smith, all lied,
Truth revealed and exposed as holy fakes,
Fakes wearily reborn again and again.
The Vatican had its own Room 101 in Spain,
The Inquisition taught the Jews a thing or two,
Franciscan demons on the loose with saintly stakes and holy whips.
In the name of Christ and love inflicting pain
Driving dying dogma into their victims heads with a holy screw
The bitter vinegar of deceit dripping from the most holy of lips
Cuneiform words on tablets of clay.
Ink of blood and soot on papyrus scrolls
Gold leafed letters printed on Biblical tomes.
Every prophet itching to have their say,
Desperate to fulfill the bizarre neurotic roles,
Armies marching, killing millions, destroying their homes.
Vanity and insanity stamped into symbols of power
Swastikas, crosses, stars, and crescent moons,
Silly symbols to confuse weak and feeble brains,
Symbols that force people to fear, cry and cower,
Listening to men as crazy as frightened loons
Mumble on about saintly demon semen stains
Gods fornicating with virgins with divine pricks
Producing bastard charismatic trouble makers
Disguised as Lydia's swan or Miriam's winged stud
The foundation for the laying of temple bricks
Creating an incredible diversity of mystical fakers
The origin of suffering, producing oceans of blood.
Our species has lived fifty centuries of make believe,
Obsessed with alienating ourselves from nature,
Creating fantasies to provide meaning and form,
A complex socio-spiritual tapestry we do weave
Within which we define our status and stature,
The cost is a continuous blood drenching storm.
New realities redefined with each generation born,
Where each person is stripped of choice and thought,
Dressing, talking, dancing, singing like each other,
Claiming rebellion against parents they scorn,
Everyone a commodity and taught to be bought,
Hating and loving both father and mother
There was no ancient wisdom or insight,
The ancients knew little and understood less
It was the sickness of anthropocentric conceit
Ideas were produced to give reason to fight
No organization, just a cluttered misunderstood mess
People behaved like sheep and oh so loudly did they bleat,
And today, three quarters of Americans believe in angels,
Winged creatured servants of a dictatorial simian god
Can reason and freedom exist in a world of flying monkeys in the sky?
Paganistic cast-offs like Hermes and Athena evolving to become angels
Angels descending from heaven or appearing in the land of Nod,
Fallen angels, sexless mysteries, freaky fabled fabrications on the fly.
Secret ancient mysteries keep us on our squirrelly toes
Quests for grails, arks, and secret hermetic societies
Searching for eternal youth and inner peace,
Deified botoxic bliss injected as cold blood flows
The Ark of the Covenant utterly failed ancient societies
They fell as time cut them down, ending their lease
If God is all powerful and supreme then why is he powerless?
A force of sentience condemned to the tortures of immortality,
A deity that has no choice but to exist for all time.
A frustrated God with a jealous wrath, forever restless,
An invention to spearhead hominid chauvinistic morality
The problem is that the data simply does not rhyme.
Where is heaven and where is hell?
It exists not outside the human mind,
Reality is more complex and more divine,
Do the souls of oysters depart their shell
Or is this simply an illusion of crazy mankind?
A species in constant lust for a meaningful sign.
Faith is an earthen dam against depression,
A flood of black bile held back by willful force,
Waiting to devour happiness and hope,
Ready to pounce with lethal repression,
Life's frail magic sucked from it's source
An emotional crutch embraced in order to cope
Dominance is the law of the creatures from the ancient trees
Frail creatures afflicted with self loathing and fear
Falling like dark hairy angels from the canopy above,
Hominids dropping from branches on bended knees
Compassion limited to a selfish tear
Descent achieved by a bully's brutish shove.
Stocking fall out shelters in fear of Y2K
Madness spawned by meaningless dates,
The end of the world in cyberspace
Much like the Christian end of days in Y1K
God spilling his guts across the United States,
Fertilizing hysteria with hypocritical grace.
Tumbled in an addictive cycle of hope and despair,
Forensic nightmares of lost lottery winnings,
Songs competing endlessly on the charts,
The quest for ratings the only care
Tabloid reportage of celebrity sinnings,
Apocalyptic horses snorting, eager to start.
Poets sitting on Greek beaches drunk with passion,
Gurus offering their wares for sale on the internet,
My Space Musicians competing for applause,
Data and profit having replaced compassion,
Save the whales, collect the whole set,
Save the coin, reject the cause.
If the world ends with a whimper, who is to blame?
T.S. Elliot I suppose for thinking such a depressing thought
Putting words into the mouths of men with brains of stale straw,
Resignation is the high cost of frenzied fame,
Surrendering to weariness after trivial battles fought
Tired of swaggering politicians flapping their jaw.
Into the Emperor's ear whispered the loyal slave
"Remember you are only mortal."
The haughty popes were never so humble
Life is a one way path to the grave
The shadowy misty ghostly myth is not immortal
Over marble gravestones lost wraiths do stumble
Thus we love our faithful dogs for they don't live very long,
Loyal and obedient they test the waters of oblivia,
Making death more acceptable, more real,
Mourning their passing is a rehearsal for our own last song
In the end it is the same brand of trivia,
No matter what we do, there is a limit to the time we steal.
All great poets are dead poets, as are all great saints,
Great artists never reap the benefits of their own skills,
Royalties go to enrich their inferior seeds
Never satisfied is the hand that plays or paints,
Satisfaction is the reward of those who reap their wills,
For rare flowers are always suffocated by common weeds.
404?
The fate of our fame and worth after we eighty six,
It's all cyber speak these days you see
Data locked behind an invisible digital door
Open to manipulation by neurotic needy nerds who need their nightly fix,
Information and images of one's existence available if there is a key
404 is when the data disappears,
Words passing sentence of final denial,
If Google does not find you, you cease to exist
Extinction of the self tops the list of our fears
Hard copy records are going out of style
As identity fades into the murky digital mist.
Room 101 has become Room 404,
At least in Room 101 you felt something real
Even pain is better than nothingness,
Room 101 had a real blood stained floor and double locked door
Room 404 is simply surreal
A place like heaven ravaged by hellishness.
There is no door to Room 404,
Entry is through desperate dreams of dark despair and destruction,
Escorted by taunting death, dreamless destiny and dangerous desire,
Lying naked on a forbidden pestilent plagued distant shore
All vision obscured by a monstrous obstruction
Shame cleansed away with sacred scarring fire.
The ultimate psychopath is the corporation
Self-centred, narcissistic without responsibility or remorse
No conscience, no empathy, no compassion,
The human population has reached maximum saturation,
A viral epidemic preying upon nature with a willful deadly force,
Thinking thoughts approved by established education
One day electricity will course through unmanned aging veins
Computers screens will hum with silent keyboards
Monitors staring sightlessly into nowhere
Nature at last will snatch back the reins
Humanity will have dropped all their nuclear swords
And once again with all species the survivors will share.
For this is the way our world will end,
In shattered myth and lost electronic files,
Not with a bang and not with a whimper, and not by nuclear cancer
In a flickering message someone will send.
A robot will search for humanity's files,
And 404 will be the answer.
Denied. Syntax error. Not Found
www.seashepherd.org
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