if no one understand me
I'm all alone in my knowledge
and nothing I say or write or think
is for anyone but myself
and all those that knew what I was saying
before I even said it
do you feel me?
If you can feel me
you may not understand
but you will know
what I feel
and the package
I have encased
my emotions in
will carry more than a meaning
because to know my emotions
is to know me
and like music
a colorful language
my emotions speak
in a universal tougue
if my motives
are sincere
if my art
is the truth
a tear never
a scream never
a fear never
a joy never
never lies
I can go anywhere
to China
or Peru
or Ghana
on any street corner
and they will hear me
and they will listen
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9 comments:
TERMINALLY UNTEACHABLE
Never to mind’s ladder climb
When you fail to grasp polemic
In fear and guilt to search inside
You blame the academic
FURTHERMORE
In a plethora of peasants
And a jumbled mass
Of various and divers Marxist trash
The son of slaves is proud to be
Numbered amongst the bourgeoisie!
The guy who can only communicate in gnomic philistine jem-jargon rhymes cries out that we are unteachable. Who-weee! What does it say for his great Randoidal philosophy that it basically "writes off" 98% of humanity. It's a cult that alows certain types to feel superior to the rest, that's all. Meantime Rodger Pegues is a superior artist of unsurpassed gifts.
IF YOU DON’T LIKE MY POEMS CONSIDER THE AUDIENCE
My gnomic philistine jem-jargon rhymes
Surpass your word salads by many times
Which sightless, listless, and parenthetically
Are neither rhymes nor scans nor poetry
Mea Culpa Maxima Apologia
A slip of the tongue
And the network’s annoyed
So me and Don Imus
Are now unemployed
But at least when some
Are called bitches and nappy
It seems to make Felicia slap happy
The parasite begins to see that his principles won't work—but he can't abandon them. He needs the creators—and he can't admit that he needs them. He can't do the work, but it's got to be done—so he wants somebody who'll do it for him. He proceeds in his usual twisted, irrational way—his halfway. He wants creators without having to call them creators or give them the conditions they require in order to function. He wants creators as tools—a contradiction in terms; but he thinks it's only a matter of finding some who are willing to be tools.
He embarks upon a course compounded of flattery and insults, bribery and threats, incentives and [punishments], all at the same time. He attempts to develop experts and leaders, but to keep them in check, safely harnessed.
From the Journals of Ayn Rand
Thus, to choose social work as a profession is to choose to be a professional parasite. This is the reason why social work and any other kind of charitable activity cannot be equated with or placed in the category of productive activities or professions. Charity is a social luxury, dependent upon and made possible by the work of the producers; as such, it is morally inferior to productive work.
Ibid
hard to have a polemic all by yourself huh?
Its obviously not as easy as ignoring the subject
TO COUNT THE FIRE OF LOVE
Lick one
Drip two
Clean three
Fire four.
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