Reality TV by Nicolas Hernandez
Right now beyond the empty streets echoing phantom laughter, beyond the high gates and unbreachable walls, beyond the tick of a solitary clock
The covens of Visigoths convene, mindlessly murmuring moth eaten chants, marinates dancing to soulless rituals
Savages disguised in the latest fashions masking their bloodlust in perfumes and coveting the idols’ promise of fool’s gold
Lacking wisdom, they congregate in a fancy ballroom to pick and rip at each other in hushed voices
From the cities of sparkling lights to the hovels in the dingy hillside they retreat in solidarity watching their lord, the bright screen emanating human suffering
Blank faces blank minds, lying on floors with needles in their arms, hooked up to the latest, their souls bled out long ago, a stain and a stench that won’t come out
Rejecting the last human whisper, they bashfully deny existence and turn to the mechanical monster for an explanation
Eagerly, the claw of Charon plucks the last leaves from the dying tree, and tosses them into the river Styx
They shriek delightfully at the simple exhibition of human pain, their faces spin and voices fade as they sink into quiet insanity.
The Machine by Joe Blagga (N. Jose)
“Right now”
A phrase perverted to the American will
Dictating demands that cannot be filled.
“Right now”
Write a paper, take a test,
Take a test while writing a paper
Do it, Right now
So you’ll get into a good school, a good job.
They say, the two faces,
The angels and devils, cry.
No rest, no time to think
No time to wonder why we must do what they say.
No time to wonder where happiness flows from.
“Right now”
Give me answers the ants say,
Their puny minds not able to wait for one minute,
Until given the drug.
“Right now”
The disease infects all
Blind to everything except what lies directly
in front of the tracks of hell.
No freedom to look around or stay in place
“Right now”
Infants spit out on the assembly line
And proceed to be molded and shaped into machines
Until they break or run out of oil
The final value estimated by the efficiency and speed
That work is completed at.
The whole determines the value of one
like scientists betting on a rat race
whose rats eventually become mindless brains
Completing endless chores to
Fit the mold of the machinist
And fit the needs of those who
Say “right now”
And agree to their laws.
If not, we are filthy hobos, lazy-asses, and radical scum,
Unable to live in a planet where trash, trinkets, and HDTV’s
Are the only source of energy,
and die in the city of steel, a cold, giant machine
of locked pavement and closed doors.
Rant Subprime- Kyle Stranahan
Right now its ten thousand thundering typhoons!
Big blue blistering barnacles,
Great gatherings of Gatsbys and brimming ballrooms of bastards,
The poor people couldn’t pay the price of their preempted peril,
Like calling the lightning of lordly measure down upon themselves,
Dangerously dangling the deceptive deed to the American dream,
Cautiously carrying the coveted carrot in front of the dumb horse’s nose,
No bales of bail outs for the horse or the driver,
Too focused on the carrot and not the road ahead.
2 comments:
Dang, you both should've read yours in class (kyle you weren't in our English class so no offense). How come nobody else ever volunteered to read theres or voted somebody else. i was reading the romantic poetry booklet of everybody's poems that ms Nickolai gave us, and a lot of the stuff there was good if not better than mine.
stop being so modest dan. your poetry is the best in the world. you should become a full-time poet.
Post a Comment