MINDFUCK TERRORISM
I'm none of the things
they say I am or think I am
They don't know me . . !
I'm gonna start shit . . . and hurt feelings
Silence . . ! - should be a war crime
I embrace my darkness . . my darkside
I love my hidden self
my dodgy, shady self
that protects me
from hungry eyes
that deem me prey
they crave that I indulge their thirst
they crave that I can do no worst
than . . their intent to do me harm
and so they think . . .
they stand in my good favour
This self . . is my bullshit monitor
my crap alarm . !
The fight is lost or won
far away from guns and bombs . . and prying eyes
far away from truths and lies
disguised . . to look like sombre prayer
far away in the plots and subplots
of conscience and consciousness
gravitas, perversions and perverse minds
subterfuge has found refuge in our midst
cultivating the right time . . .
that moment, or, event
wanting more . . . of what's left of greed
thinking themselves to be Zeus
and . . this, their Olympus
Am I to fall, or, not at all
for schemes and themes
gimmicks and memes
I've recognised from an earlier time . . ?
I have not forgotten their .and. .or. these deceptions
I've heard these lyrics before . . . they resonate
Perpetrating and Operating
like isms . . they imprison the mind
confined to 24/7 lockdown
The impious, preaching piety . . .
and still we heed an uncontrolled need
drawn . . . like rats marching to the piper's tune
shadows . ! . . . travelling
at the speed of light
the illusion takes us there
Colourblind art critics
without depth perception
dropping bombs
that don't go off . . . still we run
the simulation is real
in its intended purpose
It's called . . . 'MindFuck Terrorism'
where one's psyche is assaulted and scared
into condition and submission
into constant agitation and fear
you're so scared . . . you dare not piss yuhself
that's how they control us
not by swords
but by images and suggestions of swords
we are always afraid
and in that fear
will allow anything
unlawful laws - unruly hordes
expressions of ideas once concealed
find air to breathe . . as free speech
open doors . . that go nowhere
just falls through . . to the other-side
options of nothing
illusion's sleight of hands
though an option . . however cunning
is vapourous . . !
It's like religious promise
of salvation and damnation
how can both be promised . . ?
It's like God going to the Garden of Eden
And shouting 'What y'all doin ?'
And Eve replies . . 'We Fuckin' . ! . . . 'What ya Think we doin' . . ?
© 2016 mingoáo :: the Writings of Mingoáo Inc. is the exclusive agent, publisher-distributor of the Writings of Mingoáo. No part of the Writings exhibited herein may be copied, transcribed, reproduced nor transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, not by carrier pigeon, pony express, smoke signal, slingshot, sled dog, not even by alien spacecraft , nor stored by any information storage and/or retrieval system, past, present or future, nor translated, without the expressed written consent of the Author and Publisher. ~ Not to be Copied, Forwarded, Distributed, Shared Nor Transferred
