13 February 2011

Acapella Wasteland Mob

The noise unbearable

The rabble despicable

Loathingly encapsulated and enveloped

Lost in your pointless noise


What is there to say that you must shout so loud

Your words lack any meaning and betray your camaraderie

The bleating blotches the landscape

Draping it in meaningless colour both

of absolute whites and desolate blacks

Yet you force your white noise upon everyone

intoxicated to the point of despair and futility


The sound innumerable

The flock unclean

I despise your existence

I yearn for your demise

If your words mean so much then you must contemplate

Steady your resolve and find a reason to be and meaning in

BEING

The realisation will become your own kick

Scrape your mind from the highest ceilings of low basement highs

in doing so find more, find better, find purity


Release yourself from the prison of your own design

2 comments:

  1. Hmmmmm a bit literal and therefore whiny in places, you've got some nice ideas here, but at the end of the day it sounds like an embittered old man, incapable of experiencing fun, banging on the walls of noisy neighbors at 9:30 on a Friday evening (unless that was the character you were aiming to create, in which case fair-play, but I believe there may be an autobiographical element to this).

    God I sound like a teacher

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  2. Embittered old man?!!! I am an embittered old man!!!

    This one was much more literal than what I would usually write, and yes, it was inspired by a genuine outpouring onto the streets of a party across the road from me (there's your autobiographical). I think part of the reasons that this has a different tone to it is due to the way in which I wrote it; I pretty much used a stream of consciousness technique, and apart from a quick spell check, I posted this online the moment I finished it. I'd usually spend a little more time over my poetry, but decided to go with the flow on this one as I was a little pissed off with the noise that was coming from outside by kids who appear to have modelled themselves after Top Shop manikins. I used part of this as a motivation to write.

    Although drawing attention to this discontent wasn't my true goal in writing this poem, more a framework in which to begin developing an idea, one that I aim to return to. I was hoping to hide undertones of discontent with modern mainstream culture (thus the use of 'wasteland' in the title), one which appears to continue to hold shallow celebrity on a pedestal over people of worth. I believe this could be where the whiny parts shone through.

    Ideally I wanted to write something that began with negativity but ended with positivity, of a message of hope, although preferably not one that preached.

    God, I sound like a teacher...

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