deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Control People
Oh how they sneer
at your loss of motor skill,
Oh how they avoid your mind
when it is flushed through the drains
of humiliation.
The only drugs done these days
are the ones that provide
acceptable facial expression...
Anything else which reduces you
to an earlier level,
Anything else which frightens you
to a bad face,
And you just can't talk anymore,
is scoffed at,
and hinted, by subtle gesture,
for you to kindly remove yourself
from the scene,
for the sake of their better party...
You see,
with control you're let in,
let in to all the great circles
of conversation and jokes,
music videos and old sitcoms...
Oh yay..!
at your loss of motor skill,
Oh how they avoid your mind
when it is flushed through the drains
of humiliation.
The only drugs done these days
are the ones that provide
acceptable facial expression...
Anything else which reduces you
to an earlier level,
Anything else which frightens you
to a bad face,
And you just can't talk anymore,
is scoffed at,
and hinted, by subtle gesture,
for you to kindly remove yourself
from the scene,
for the sake of their better party...
You see,
with control you're let in,
let in to all the great circles
of conversation and jokes,
music videos and old sitcoms...
Oh yay..!
Published 20th Mar 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
20th Mar 2014 6:18am
Ain't like the seventies uh, we all looked the same. Like one of them little furry marmasets or whatever they were called with big black shiny eyeballs an grinnin like a jackass eatin saw briars.
We were too tore up to even draw a circle, much less get in one.
I enjoyed the write, appreciate the visit and looking forward to the fun.
And, Welcome to DU
We were too tore up to even draw a circle, much less get in one.
I enjoyed the write, appreciate the visit and looking forward to the fun.
And, Welcome to DU
21st Mar 2014 5:06am
"...too tore up to even draw a circle, much less get in one..."
I'll be serving up plenty more of that in the times to come...
I'll be serving up plenty more of that in the times to come...
23rd Mar 2014 10:02pm
I usually just say fuch'em. Find that little niche
of people whom you can partake with, revel in that beautiful fact. No substance should ever dull a facial expression if done right.
of people whom you can partake with, revel in that beautiful fact. No substance should ever dull a facial expression if done right.
24th Mar 2014 5:40am
I suppose it is a thing with who you're with...
Last thing I want is to be around people of constant chatter and question-asking, and the "What's your favourite this and that?", and ploughing through ten thousand music selections in the night, not even getting to the end of a song before the next one is clicked onto, as though some momentary pause in the flow of attention will cause catastrophic death and demise. I hate that impatience among some party-drug people, that everything has to be more lickity-shplit and quick-packaged satisfy serving. Of course it is a beautiful thing for people to connect and constantly build upon that connection, but can there not be one moment of silence, just to stare through the ceilings and listen all the way to the very end of the song?!
I suppose I've always been dysfunctional regarding the night gatherings - I usually end up exiting quite quickly from the premises, and am flung out into strange parks and road sections, taking eight hours to get through a couple of blocks - the walk was horrible, but the next day I write twenty to fifty pages about it, so in the end it was probably better than anything else that could have happened.
I sometimes believe that poets and writers and all artists should never have a good time with drugs - it's necessary for their edge, I think, necessary for their creative survival.
Just one feeling among many hundreds...
Thanks again.
Last thing I want is to be around people of constant chatter and question-asking, and the "What's your favourite this and that?", and ploughing through ten thousand music selections in the night, not even getting to the end of a song before the next one is clicked onto, as though some momentary pause in the flow of attention will cause catastrophic death and demise. I hate that impatience among some party-drug people, that everything has to be more lickity-shplit and quick-packaged satisfy serving. Of course it is a beautiful thing for people to connect and constantly build upon that connection, but can there not be one moment of silence, just to stare through the ceilings and listen all the way to the very end of the song?!
I suppose I've always been dysfunctional regarding the night gatherings - I usually end up exiting quite quickly from the premises, and am flung out into strange parks and road sections, taking eight hours to get through a couple of blocks - the walk was horrible, but the next day I write twenty to fifty pages about it, so in the end it was probably better than anything else that could have happened.
I sometimes believe that poets and writers and all artists should never have a good time with drugs - it's necessary for their edge, I think, necessary for their creative survival.
Just one feeling among many hundreds...
Thanks again.
26th Mar 2014 4:41pm
better is not the same as fun... self destruction is the goal, destroy and rebuild.
but thats what i give the name fun anyway
but thats what i give the name fun anyway
