Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Another YouTube Suicide

Another YouTube Suicide:
Social Terrorism broadcast to millions.
Epidemic copy cat mania.
Insaniety at it's finest:
The epitomy of decadence.
"It's a cry for help", the industry claims
Offering more cosmetic psychiatry
As a solution to the new narcissism.
She was sad not angry,
And the tragedy persists
Addictions are ignored as 'feeling'
Emotionalism replacing rationalism
As the cure for a growing lack of spirituality
And the stupidity of Sex in the City, American Idol,
The Kardasians the new Jerry Springer
What our culture must look like to aliens
No wonder the Moslems jihad in self defence.
The hope though is in the creativity of the gamers,
The genius of the networkers,
The brilliance of the young scientists, musicians, artists,
Who build and create with enthusiasm
As the poverty of the world shrinks
And diseases disappear
We celebrate life
In the midst of individual despair.
As more choose Galileo and Gandhi
Over Sylvia Path and Cobain
There is hope and faith in this wonder
Where Youtube captures many more births
But the mainstream media
Of fearful dying baby boomers
Acts out its own godless angst
Through the celebration of the sacrifice of youth
The old kill with you tube
Unwilling to wait till North Korea
High on it's own "Korean idol"
Gives us another Gallipoli
Mass sacrifices of young
For the titillation of the decadent old
No longer sustained by their snuff films
Of pig farmer porn.
Thank god for channel changes, facebook, and internet
Where we can all switch from drama queens without talent
Drug crazed or simply stupid and sex crazed
Claiming shame that everyone is looking at them
When there is no audience large enough
To give them the the joys of return to the umbilical cord.
We're long past the tit seeking child
In a world that no longer gives expulsion from Eden myths
To guide the young to kill the snakes
And make their way wearily back to the Garden.
Where is Joni Mitchell now that we need her
Woodstock a fading memory.
And all I can say is if you are sitting
In front of the latest boob tube
Peacemissile named you tube
Experience the 'me tube' desire to off yourself
Maybe it's time you really did go outside and play
Hug a human, care for a child, pet a dog, bother a cat,
Water a plant.
Suicide is the ultimately most selfish act
Comparable to homicide
Though perhaps of lower self esteem
More tragicomedy than tragedy these days
Of absurdist sensationalism and mass insaniety.
Where all around spring is being celebrated by bird songs
And flowers blossoming
And activists chant silent spring today
Millenial madness, the skies falling, there is no future
And the young are afraid and angry.
Such that only laughter can explain
As monks the world over have laughed
Before the dark night of the soul
And with every aid against madness
They can find from prozac to brain surgery
To lucky rabbit foots, mother's love, talking circles
And a cypress cross
They carry on
Trudging up the hill
Which Joan Baez long ago said
Had only standing room on it
But we could not see each other clearly
Because the man at the top had a superior
Shit making machine
But we keep on trekking
We keep on trucking
We keep on trudging
And don't take ourselves so seriously
That we actually think we're Christ.
Get down off the cross, we can use the wood!
The Phoenix isn't some chick but a metaphorical bird
Be an angel but not a smeagol
Laugh, dance, whatever,
But this too will pass.
Hang in there for the commercials to end
And the movie to continue
It always does.
Even the self centered dying baby boomers
Know in their heart of hearts that death is just a passing
Their lives, as silly and important as they seem to them,
Are just a beginning.
There is no end
And I will meet you youtube fanatics
In another world where asylums for the soul
Have music of love playing 24 hours
And lust isn't love
And sex isn't all the dirty old men and women
Of the media make it out to be
Now lets get back to sharing pictures
Of our animals and babies and travels
And our poems and pictures of the rocket ships
Our children made
Trips to Mars and meeting with alien worlds
And dancing on asteroid belts
Swimming with dolphins
Building a church
And talking to an old person or a young person
On a park bench
Painting a picture of a bowl of fruit
Living rather than dying
In this great conspiracy of life
Where 9-11 and the planet earth
As less important than
One small sparrow and a universe or multiverse
Swinging on a wee string.
The umbilical cord of the soul.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

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