"Stickmen"

Stickmen seperating stickmen
Hammering control myths
When control belongs to chaos
Classes and pigeonholes
The stickmen all believe
Make an idol to follow
Become an ideal
That never existed at all
Stickmen molding stickmen
Bending the body
Bending the mind
Messing with the hole of a head
The void of a soul
Stickmen rules for stickmen gods
Justice and democracy
All an illusion
Unconsious stickmen
Clones of the global mold
Kill a stickman
Watch another fill its place
Another meaningless grain of sand
Game of a single rule
Nothing matters
Crush this anthill
No one will care
Especially not the stickmen

"Popularity Contest"

Appeal to the people
Build yourself a steeple
Become a god in a few easy steps
But look out, there's though competition
Make sure your word's changed easily
to keep up to pace with consumer demand
Cause the customer's always right you know

It's not the quality 
The quantity is what counts
Fifty million people can't be wrong!
Be ambigious and keep 'em coming back for more
get into their head and nuke theris fears
With a few reassuring catch-phrase quotes
Belief without question is all you need

Stay quick on your feet
Don't become obsolete
Service with a smile and a brainwash
Try for most popular and imprint their minds
Promise a lobw-out party for following the rule
Sweet rewards for staying put
But keep the fire hanging over their heads

Tell 'em a story - go for the glory
And may the best deity win!

"Brainwashed Bass"

A teenager drives slowly through my alley in a sleek blue car
Stereo blaring
Bass pounding
Rap lyrics droning from the speakers
The shallow descriptions of drugs and women block out all other sound
Driving me to seek shelter inside
What is this person like?
What sort of twisted personality would get pleasure out of announcing its presence
with noise loud, yet unmusical?
Does he think he's "cool?"
Perhaps, after hours of cruising the city,
The image of beautiful women turning their heads and inviting themselves along for a
ride fixed in his mind,
This teenager finally became disillusioned with the dream
That Hollywood and TV assured him would come true,
And that is why he is back here at home,
With nothing to do.

"The Death Song"

Right now I am living,
but soon I will be dying.
Before the universe can blink its omniscient eye,
I will be gone.
Weeping people will accompany my departure,
Weeping people who will themselves be gone shortly
And people will cry for the weeping people,
And people will sob for the crying people,
And that is what the universe will notice.
Not the death throes of the few individuals,
But the lengthy sadness of the many they touched.
The deaths will be tiny pains on the skin of the universe,
Like those that cause us to itch
(Yes, the universe may need to scratch absentmindedly once in a while).
But the sorrow that accompanies a mere person's going, 
Not as harsh a pain as death, yet the pain of a multitude,
Collects around the event
Like a pearl 'round a grain of sand,
And these clumped up orbs of pain
Fall as teardrops
From the omniscient eye of the universe.

"Untitled"

When one can see
Through you and me
It's time for us to part.

But while we be
Sweet mystery
We two shall share one heart.

"Nihilism in Rhyme"

This burden upon my heart I feel,
Blurs the line between dream and real....

Methinks I hear voices that shout and bark
Mocking me from their stronghold so dark:

"Fool!" they say, "Why venture so
Into this mood, our palace of woe?
Many are thrown here, no choice of their own,
But you, sir, come willing, as flesh to the bone!"

"I come seeking truth," I mumble reply,
"For in the sad world there is none to come by.
If it will contain no completeness of mind,
Surely herein that contentment I'll find."

"Learn this of us," the night-nymphs all said,
"Truth is a thing that is all in your head,
The longer you search, the more angry you'll grow,
Till you'll want to live in our palace of woe.
If you follow this spiral of purpose and meaning,
On a bullet's sharp head you'll soon be careening
Away from that world, which you think should be
A place full of worthwhile spirituality.
So stop your search now, return to the herd,
And accept the ideals that are completely absurd.
Why should you care that you're mere food for worms
When nothing you do might make Death change his terms?
Live life in happiness, contentment, and glee,
For he who laughs lasts, lasts eternally."

The vision was ended, the voices were gone,
I was left in my thoughts, and they rambled on.

If you're looking for truth inside this madding song,
You've wasted your time having stayed here so long.
But if meter and rhyme are enough to delight,
I've done something good staying up late this night.

HAIL ERIS!  ALL HAIL DISCORDIA!!

"Morning Breaks"

Morning breaks
In my daytime world.
Or wrenched to opposition,
Sleep shatters.
My dreams crumble to pieces
Shimmering rainbow crystal pieces
They're all over the floor
I only have time to grab a few of the precious shards
Before Morpheus' gnomes take them all away.
What does he want with them?
They're my dreams.
What does he do with them?
Build a palace of prisms
Where if one looks closely, the blue sun rays of his world
Will illuminate a particular scene in the wall?
Crush them down into ultra-psychedelic powder
For the seraphim monkey on his back?
Use them for a multi-million dollar cable channel of the gods
Entitled "Mortal Dreams"?
Was Morpheus behind Crystal Pepsi and its commercials?
Or are they melted down
Into a giant stainless steel punch bowl
With a little chlorine
For us to swim in forever,
Delicious, blended-to-perfection, creamy fantasies
Caressing our deepest subconscious
No two images
The same?

"Untitled"

When I see you standing there,
I walk up close, prepare to scare.
You turn your velvet, ebon hair,
And flinch a smile, "Oh, hi there."

I don't know if it's vanity,
Destiny, or humanity,
That makes you squirm when you see me,
That gives me the impulse to flee.

But there I stay, trying but torn
Each word I say is rather forlorn
The more I talk, the more I mourn,
My little sheep Hope is ending up shorn.

"Children of the Year 2000"

What woe for you that have been born today!
The year two thousand may not be that great.
The day may come when you'll look back and say,
"Oh why, oh why could not my parents wait?"
Your year of birth may prove to cause dismay,
It may come to leave you rather glum,
When peers will ask about that New Year's Day:
"So did that start the new millenium?"
A start or finish?  Can you claim to be
Born at the same time as a thousand years?
An origin of ambiguity!
But let me reassure your many fears:
The year's importance no one really knows,
But hey, two thousand has a lot of O's!