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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 11-June 05:48:56 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 179554
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Nothing
[time] => 2014-10-31 00:22:02
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => In slumber lakes and pools of tide. From spoken moon to howling winds. In the night I call out... Nothing. What is the point in calling if none listen? Buzz from shattered eardrums, headphones playing melodic beats Streets lost on cashless cracked roads, the taxman always rings twigs Media spitting plagues and homegrown terrorists Lost in all their lies Who is that tapping on my chamber door? Special interest groups with cardboard savious Hollywood actors playing revolutionary games. Asking not what I can do for my country But what is my country doing for me. Shall i give ode to the stars in tinsel town Phony as the script in tow As whimsical as a messiah complex comedy tour The joke is the graven images in the guardian Have we forgotten to watch the fruit they yield? To busy with the word than the deed The fame and not the mask The rich but not in spirit. As clocks tick to show that it still holds time We barely live for minimal profit Fighting to get fat on pie To horde for 15 minutes of shame Can we trust talking heads? Suits in oval offices Actors playing the chosen few Time will tell what roads we choose What falsehoods we can call our own [comments] => 2 [counter] => 404 [topic] => 43 [informant] => lostrelic [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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