Requiem for Hijacked Words [poem]
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 requiem 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 ownsome “loving” ways have raised
a massive mountainside of moneymuch
just for themselves (so full of love they are!).
My bullshitometer (pronounced just like
“thermometer”) 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 through stealthy sneaking-up
upon your ego’s tattered tawdry freedom-hating
shadowland. Destroy that rotten totem pole.
No more imaginary worth to stain 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 just 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
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!
That’s what they say (just to lead you all astray).
How easily we buy this lie and rarely question
why so many millions have to die, ensuring that
the power-games continue 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,
for freedom here on earth is just a show.
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
which you would gladly give up for a friend
or most of all for Truth which in these times
is yet another word the world reduced into a
moniker to suit whichever lie it deems as “vogue”.
For Truth is now a code designed to override
integrity and Orwell said that [in a fallen world]
our freedom is the freedom that we have to say
that two plus two make four! That’s now the Law!
True freedom’s when you’re rich in wealth from
unseen halls of Truth’s unfettered Light and all
you have to show for it are shelves which seem
so empty to the world but which you know are
full to eyes which have not had the wool pulled
over them by smirking agents from the dark.
The third word which has now been hijacked
by this crazy world is called DEMOCRACY.
[Forgive me while I loud guffaw at all the
stuffed-shirt ways this word is thrust into our
faces by the very people who defile it with
their loud regurgitated cant and cringeful bile].
How pompous people will become when
mentioning this misused word, which often
goes out hand-in-hand with freedom as the
thing to fight for and preserve, although, as
far as I can know and to my knowledge such
a state has never come to pass on any shores
and, what is more, for sure, it never can.
Democracy is just another ass in verbal form,
for people-power (that’s what this ancient word
should mean, if taken literally from ancient Greek)
is nothing more than just another word in Orwell’s
hijacked language coined with irony: 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 with half an ounce of sense can see!
Democracy does not exist within this crazy world.
The governments which claim that name are
merely smart dictatorships which play the jaded
joke of “fair and free elections” as a cloak to hide
the melted darkness of their true intentions.
No matter where you place your little mark on
ballot papers, nothing ever really truly changes
(can’t you see!). 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,
or to settle their old scores with puppets who they
can’t control (remember what they did to JFK from
vantage points upon that deadly grassy knoll).
The whole world’s under one command;
my friends, there’s no democracy in any land.
The freedom that you think you have to cast
your vote is just a poor & very tasteless joke.
Most people know this in their heart of 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 thousands of the things in all.
And if too troublesome or questioning
a citizen becomes, they’ll quickly 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 life in there becomes 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 phoney battlecry to mesmerise
the masses with some token crumbs —
another fine example of the way they
gaslight you with simulated axioms!
The solemn way in which they use this word
is just a silly pompous act. No substance.
That all the world’s been duped is fact.
You’ve all been brainwashed with a lie.
(Please realise I’m using “all” in a generic
sense, and hope you will not take offence).
And so, my friends, my little rant here ends.
These hijacked words my honour now defends
and hope that you and I can rescue them,
restoring them to what they were before they
were defaced by all the darkly influential trends.
Freedom, love, democracy. Great words, yet
now are rendered trite and meaningless
by politicians, hijackists and verbal terrorists.
And there are very many more that could be
dealt with here; but now I leave them all
for poems to be written in another year.
© Alan Morrison, 2019