Poem written in 2015 by Alejandro N. Marrero
Land of the Slave by Alejandro N. Marrero
Our minds are dusty shelves of sorts.
Not the kind you find in Ikea or Target.
Of course some assembly is required.
Forget local artisans these days.
That organic hippy stuff you’re trained to fear.
Don’t be afraid.
Its all about quantity not quality.
Smear honey on a knife and call it sweet, but make no mistake it still cuts.
Love thy neighbor? ’Sure’
Fear thy neighbors is more like it.
The floor models are always so ‘pretty’ and ‘new’ right?
‘Where’s it made?’ We ask the sun kissed and overweight tangerines.
‘Who care’s its pretty and cheap like our souls.’
“Self tanner or bronzing lotion anyone?”
“Is this really fair or right?”
Don’t question it accept it.
‘Tsk Tsk.. don’t you know?’; The left is wrong.
Free thought is an outrage.
Ever wonder why we’re all so terrified of making lefts?
Let’s continue to drive on the opposite side of the world.
It’s because we’re so damn great we can only count to ten.
Gallons and Fahrenheit cause we’re so afraid of heights.
Celsius and Liters anyone?
No, no. That’s not appropriate here.
Thinking is a danger to the master plan.
Lets start with the youth and call it a public service.
‘Copy this down kids, for the adults get this advice reminded by shampoo bottles ‘rinse and repeat.’
Program yourself and educate kids to memorize, copy down and recite nonsense.
Creative arts don’t make a good living after all.
You’ll starve as an artist, better be an adult and learn the frauds of Wallstreet.
Keep the collar tight and pass your inherited leash to the dated majority.
Never mind the fact they’re rich and no matter what they say ‘you really can’t buy happiness.’
Money may not be able to buy happiness but it certainly solves 98% of our problems. And if you think that’s not true you don’t have enough money to solve them.
Still they’ll influence and convince you to purchase and spend beyond your means.
Don’t have enough money?
‘Here’s a coupon, layaway plan or a line of credit.’
We’re all sheep and cattle.
Eating what they feed us and hearded towards the slaughter.
Chasing an illusion and theory of happy to the tune of lining that one percents’ pocket with satisfaction.
We’re peasants after all.
The higher thread count is for the church of later day shames.
‘Here’ work for this piece of paper from a tree we made you cut down.
The entitled horde the gold out of sight regardless.
Or flaunt it behind their marbled fortresses you built for them yet they conveniently forgot to pay you for.
Magazines and twisted thoughts to prove once again ‘we’re weapons of massive consumption.’
Don’t you dare grow your own food.
Those streets and communities need to be lined with ornamentals!
Just sow more fear and reap its harvest.
Keep spending though.
Spend it all on that next shiny new thing the advertisements convince us we need so much.
Wait a week or two.
Nothings pretty forever and truth is subjective these days.
Opinions shared and liked enough must make it true.
Just observe the extreme Right.
Only the silent, wise one’s know the genuine gifts of the middle.
The path free from any extreme said Buddha.
You’re in the West not East.
The great U. S. of A.
Philosophers don’t live here nor do they stay in
thee glorious home of the slaves.
Oops. I meant ‘Brave”
Welcome to the land of the dawns early light.
Where the slogan is justice and liberty for all.
Yet thats all trickled down nonsense ‘anti eco’ economics from the top.
The real agenda is absolute obedience and control.
Freedom a conveniently forgotten myth.
‘Indivisible with Liberty and Justice for “All”.
All except; those not standing, wearing a hand like a white flag on their chest or conforming to the majority rule.
Oh now don’t complain we all love to be ruled.
Don’t believe me?
Study your history books.
‘No, No, not that one… The one’s approved by your government or King James please.’
Well when they say it so polite it must be true.
Just do what your told to do.
Color in between the lines and say thank you.
We’re puppets here that move in accordance to invisible strings.
‘Fear this, Love that.’
Americans love to polish, shine, aim and wow do we covet our guns.
No one’s taking these death dealers away.
Lets keep them available to all even the insane, criminal, uneducated and extremists.
Safety first though.
Please use the stairwell in a calm and orderly fashion.
Keep your firearm locked and secured in a ‘safe’ place or high shelf.
Not the shelving that holds your overpriced pills or the more inexpensive yet healthier teas.
Where’s that common sense?
One of earth and experiences we rarely share.
The dirt between our fingernails.
The webs in our corners.
Things we pretend are never there.
You rarely see those in pictures these days.
In reality we all have them.
All of us tangled in a web of lies but really their just invisible tethers to our souls.
Which let’s be blunt, we all sold it to a devil a long time ago.
This rocky cliff we sit on.
Legs dangling before an impossibly long drop.
Don’t worry its all in our heads.
It’s below sea level here remember?
’See, the bubble is between the lines making it level’ the Carpenter says.
This shelf is perfectly straight, shallow and white.
Unlike that Hebrew in the Manger.
His fashion and skin tone isn’t trendy today.
Safer that way. Or you’ll end in a cage. Why would anyone educated think he’s not tan? It’s the Mediterranean! For peat sakes there’s sun and sand!
Drone’s get tired and overworked though.
They look for escapes, some even jump. Lining the factories with nets for your new phone. All cause you fear giving your dogs new bones. Is it organic? Dammit Janet I said don’t panick!
So then ‘master the force young padawan.’
Lets force you to make plans for a future.
A dreamed up reality that hasn’t happened yet will keep you from jumping.
Keep you in line.
Can’t fall far from the ground anyways.
Plus like Adele says “There’s only one way down”
What she doesn’t say is how we’re there already.
Simply try to enjoy the view from the bottom in silence.
That ever elusive quiet.
Maybe the pollution will be blown away by a strong wind and we’ll see stars tonight.
The eery calm before the storm.
The clear eye in the center to distract you well enough with a lovely sky.
I know above this storm stars are shining brightly.
It’s quieter outside than in these days.
At least thats what they say sanity looks like.
Make an appointment at the Doctor.
Then he’ll sing “Come with me and you’ll be, in a state of pure inebriation.’
Stick to primary colors though.
‘Don’t forget your deductible and copay on the way out. Next! And Netflix!
We’ve gotten so good at parading only the best pieces of ourselves.
Filters to dispel those of us not photogenic.
Censor, adjust, smooth and crop.
As if it would stop people from perceiving what they want.
Flaunting and exposing faults in others instead of working on our own.
Forgetting we’re human when it rains on our charade.
Still, make sure to make a right.
Right over there after you’re done with your purchase.
Those long lines after Thanksgiving.
Cause we’re all so content and thankful.
Just color in between the lines.
In case of emergency walk in a single file lie.
Tattoo a surrendered hand to your heart and march to your illusion of freedom these days.
The left and middle don’t make enough and remember here we can only count to ten.
Indivisible and Justice for all. Face it
We’re all too afraid to make a left anyways.
By Alejandro N. Marrero
Unedited poetry by an uneducated author written 5 years ago