Stoned Immaculate Page 3

  Where there’s no difference between art and entertainment

  Where we exploit for personal attainment

  Where we war for peaceful times

  Where the guilty did no crimes

  A time of disgrace

  For the human race

  The Burdened

  Savored maiden,

  Welcome to the world.

  Flavor the tasteful,

  Alone, Born,

  Going out graceful.

  Stoned.

  Contract of subjection,

  Fake silence,

  Full of unwanted attention.

  The Conception of Guerillas

  The children weep at their deceits

  Bloody they bleed in the streets

  Looking, longing for sensible solutions

  Instead they find the fist of intuitions

  What they find

  Will make them blind

  With anger, rage and disillusion.

  Don’t you know that this despair

  Will make them mount Meinhofs mare.

  Don’t you know the pigs you send

  Will make them meet this bitter end

  When the stain of blood and pain

  Becomes a stain to attain

  The mark of hardships of this change

  That makes them seem so very strange

  When logic seems so blunt and bare

  Nothing feels to be so fair.

  Momentous Days

  The sun bursts bright

  In a beautiful daze

  The tree works wonders

  In wonderful ways

  A moment

  A minute

  A solution

  To our limit

  A chance

  A glance

  A change in reality

  For all of humanity

  Mean Ordeal

  Can’t do the deed done to me

  Can’t convey the carnage unto thee

  Gaze a glance at the free

  Dreary dream dreams to be

  Something Different

  Lead me to the path you seek

  The future here is bleak

  Shadows seem to see

  Its time for us to flee

  My Mind

  In politics I prefer anarchists.

  In the economic realm,

  A communist helm.

  Socially a hedonist,

  Ethically a humanist.

  A radical, bisexual.

  Feminist intellectual.

  Atheist, Anational,

  Ridiculously rational.