Threnody for Hijacked Words [poem]

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threnody_for_hijacked_words

Remind me not to use those words which
pop stars, hacks and politicians made into
a parody of what they once had been.
And now this poem’s a threnody for all those
meanings overruled, messing up the gene pool,
courting only ridicule, gag rule, cesspool,
language beauty underjeweled, words to fool,
viral oral bubblegum, (guess I’m only old-school,
won’t succumb, arch-refusenik I’ve become).

Let’s take three for now — vastsome words
which have been hijacked to enhance
the throne of fraudly needs, puff up the
nascent superfluity of greed and spoken folly —
avert the eyes from melancholy’s howling cries,
dumbed-down seeds, vocabulary bleeds,
controlling how we thinkfeel. Guaranteed.

The first of these is LOVE. Who needs to have
this twisted word shoved down their throat
by pop stars — products of a PR culture,
glamo(u)r vultures, polystyrene plastic
dream-lies — on repeat: “I love you baby,
don’t mean maybe”. And if the truth be told,
you never really loved, for all you ever loved
has been your vainlike poster on the wall
or in some vapid magazine, your image,
just another barbie doll in lust with Ken
or Sven or any one of several dozen men
per year. I fear you never loved, my dear.
That once-was-truly-lovely word of love
is kicked around the nursery playground
like a football by a bunch of angry kids,
by coaches, shrinks and other wannabe
advisers, gurus, swamis and consultants
whose own loving ways have raised
a massive mountainside of moneymuch
just for themselves (so full of love they are).
My bullshitometer hits maximum when
memes like that have dared to speak
of love, on which a little sick comes up
into my throat , for treacle is my most
unfavourite food & sentimental platitudes
ensure I spew it up. So much for love.

But love for real is what can happen only
when you quench the blazing flames of self
and leave it all behind as heaps of ashes
burned to dust by stealth. Your totem pole.
No more imaginary worth to char your soul.

The second hijacked word is FREEDOM.
This is the state in which the world imagines
that it lives and breathes. Yet nothing could
be further from the thrilling ring of truth.
Mortgaged unto death, up to the hilt,
enslaved in soul-destroying ways of work,
you’re right where powermongers want you
in their grip. No freedom there. Your slavery
is just another surefix power-trip for them.
They need you there so if one day you will
declare yourself an ardent enemy of state
they can control you through your debt
so then your mortgage will become a bayonet
by which to pin you to the floor until you
cry out you can take no more. For suicide’s
their aim with all who shun their gravy train.
A little secret: I have never voted nationally.
Bet now you’ll tell me how so many died
in order to preserve the freedom that I have
to vote once every few years for a bunch
of lowlifes taking people for a ride, no matter
on which side of any fence they may reside.
That’s what I mean by freedom being a
hijacked word. It now has no more meaning
than a turd you’d step on in the park or
a cockroach which you’d tread on in the dark.
How many soldiers think with pride
they fight for freedom (not just one but
both sides think that way!)? They jump into
the fray with weapons blazing, anger hot,
for freedom must be fought for at all costs!
How easily we buy this lie and rarely question
why so many millions have to die just so that
power-games can go on in the same vein
as they did before those millions sunk down
to the floor and bled in snow and earth
and scorching sun and driving rain. Again.

How much is this life worth, if anything?
We lost or gave away our freedom long ago,
if ever we had freedom’s bell to ring.

Freedom’s only freedom when a man or
child or woman can run free and flingly sing
in any place upon this globe — a parliament,
a factory, an argument you pick with me,
a courthouse with a jury trial, a bunker full
of missiles, a funeral, the White House lawn,
an old folks’ home, police station or prison,
a cruise ship’s deck at dawn, a meeting full
of po-faced pricks in industry imagining
that what they do in conference has relevance
(that gravitas is equal to infinity!), an army base,
a cancer ward, or even in the House of Lords.

Freedom true is when you have no need
for anything, not even need of life itself.
It’s when you’re rich in wealth unknown
and all you have to show are empty shelves.

The third word which has now been hijacked
by this crazy world is called DEMOCRACY.
How pompous people can become when
mentioning this word, which often goes
out hand-in-hand with freedom as the
thing to fight for and preserve, though,
to my knowledge such a state has never
come to pass. Democracy is just another
ass in verbal form, for people-power
(what democracy should mean if taken
literally from ancient Greek) is nothing
more than just another case of Orwell’s
hijack language known as Newspeak!
Ask any politician if she really wants the
people to have power. Although she’ll
say “Yes, power to vote for me”, in truth
that is no power at all, as any child can see.

Democracy does not exist within this world.
The governments which claim that name
are merely smart dictatorships which
play the joke of “fair and free elections”
as a cloak to hide their true intentions.
For no matter where you place your mark
on ballot papers, nothing ever changes.
The ones who really run this show
(and these are folks you’ll never know)
have merely engineered consent from you
with theatre sides of left and right
to keep the moneyflow among those few
who use your kids as pawns to fight their wars
to settle their old scores with puppets
who they can’t control (think what they
did to JFK from on that deadly grassy knoll).
The whole world’s under one command;
there’s no democracy in any land.
The freedom that you have to vote
is just a poor and very tasteless joke.
Most people know this in their hearts
yet still they go on taking part like robots
zombies, puppets on a string. They cannot
bring themselves to face the facts for that
would rock their boat which may capsize
(and that would be a good thing in my eyes).
But if you get depressed about the world
they’ve kindly made a health regime for you.
Called “pharmaceutics”, they’ve devised
a range of drugs to keep you in their thrall.
There are hundreds of the things in all.
And if too troublesome you become
they’ll lock you up in psychiatric care
or trump you up on some false charge
to send you off to prison where
you’ll be destroyed and made a shell
(for both are just a living hell)
by what you must experience in there.
Don’t speak to me about democracy.
There is none and there never was.
It’s just a phony bad baloney battlecry.
Your solemn tone to use this word
is just a pompous act. No substance.
You’ve been brainwashed with a lie.

Freedom, love, democracy. Great words
now rendered trite and meaningless
by hijackists and verbal terrorists.
Can you now see why I’m so disturbed?

 

© Alan Morrison, 2014

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