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»Prophecy«

by Sion Smith, May 1, 2001

C'mon down motherfuckers and take a long hard look at the black
Soak your eyeballs in my godspit cocaine and twist in the melodrama
I'm hungry for the love that makes us all freaks, sheiks and angels speak
When I ask questions – just announce the real names for christsake
Is there enough pain here for you
Can you trace the intensity to a time when we have met before
Are you damned enough yet to cry alone as she turns her back for a countless time
Are you disillusioned enough to recall all of the reasons you left us behind

They guest list me for the last supper
Figure I'll bring my wit, good looks and charm along for the ride -hmmm
Windswept and interesting just got bored and blown away
It's a bad move alright...but it's a certainly a step in the right direction

I give you broken bottles across the face
Crutches for the out of place
Chairs for the dying, prayers for the weak
Soul seeking missiles destroy the meek
Tell me – how is the prophet of the nation
are we busted enough for damnation now
Godamn cocksucking plastic insects in my walls
Are the humble down ere the money falls.
The war with myself rages on
In another world I'm televised scandal #1
I've got paper, forms – high department private eyes
While higher society buries higher lies
My children stare with eyes now glistening
I think somebody cares that gods not listening
Lock the Nazarene inside his grave
Surf the helpless bastards tidal wave
The holocaust rages through my minds
Can you give me two good reasons to stay behind
When death announces now our time
I know who'll be standing first in line.
Oh, but my head
it's in a different place
Tell me do you recognize my face?

For I have spoken of unintentional love
I have been subliminal and illogical
but I have no idea why the fascination of being with you
is everything to me,
and I'm pretty sure the poetry drips off my tongue in hardback factories
but that's in another world my friend
if only we could have seen things the same
I have no time left to be ashamed

Cigarette in hand I wander through your land
my knuckles have been blessed with a Mozart touch.
Cue – automatic fear, know when I'm near
Sweet, sweet surrender sweetheart – are you feeling much today
How is my nocturnal man – Mr. homosapien
Are you willing to live my spirit wilderness
Whilst planetary numb, to me you run
Do you really think I hold the answer to desire?


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The © Copyright to this poem is owned by the author.
Published by writerslounge.net on May 1, 2001 under courtesy of the author.


Reader comments

"Pity about the swear words or this could have been very good"
Anonymous, Aug 13, 2008
"this is amazing; you rock."
anon., Jul 4, 2002

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