Sunday, 23 September 2007

Raise The Nation's Children.

If you have a problem
You know that it shows
Don't tell me your problem
I don't really want to know
Carry your problem
'Til you break down to your knees
And beg the world you're living in
For pity and forgiveness
Mercy, mercy help you out
You have the shoulder the world cries on
You have raised the nation's children
And fought all of the wars
Now it's time to rest
Forget about the cause you believe in.

Your back is unbroken
Your heart beats fast and strong
There're voices crying inside your head
And they cry loud and woefully long
They cry from the cauldron
Of messages left unsaid
They fill the space between in and out
And bleed from the halo circling your head.


Metamatician said...

Love the ending! Invoking bleeding halos is a sure way to get attention as a serious poet. Seriously, the second verse has some nice lines in it. The first reminds of the "Pink Floyd" song (Actually Roger probably kept the entire piece to himself until recording day), "The Fletcher Memorial Home." Know the one? I see aged dictators - Thatchers, Reagans, Blairs and Bushes here scaettered about on lawns, still fighting their pretend wars and giving moving moral speeches to themselves on CCTV, while children go about fighting anf dying for real in the mess they previously created and can now no longer remember the reasons for.

Hey everyone!!! REX WRITES POETRY!!

Thesaurus Rex said...

It's a song, 20 years old, not performed for 19 of them.
It's about the same person who got the shit kicked out of them by the pig.( see Orficial 11 sept)
She drained most of her energy by worrying about or campaining for everybody to the detriment to her health. This was my attempt at advice to slow down and look after herself before she had a breakdown.
Thanks for the compliments, I don't know the Floyd song but astute of you cos the music that went with these lyrics was quite Floyd. I'm more than capable of aggressive melancholia it seems.

Magdalene said...

Cheerful bunch these days aren't we? However, there's truth there for all of us, particularly me. I'm all too good at taking care of others to the detriment of my own health, though I have to say that the older I get, the less likely I am to get away with it. I've finally sussed out that if I don't take care of me there's nobody going to do it for me. We all have a responsibility to ourselves and mine is to sleep properly and pay attention to what I put into my body and mind. It's grass and minnows for me this week, Rex.

Martin Stickland said...

Are they your words? If so, they are very good and if not so, they are still very good.

Have a good day!

Thesaurus Rex said...

My words indeed Martin, when I was an angry young man. Thanx for the look in and the compliment. Obviously I've progressed as far as the grumpy old bloke stage now. Perhaps if I play my cards right, I will someday escalate to become an annoying dribbly old git.
Am having a fine busy day ta, have one yaself.

Metamatician said...

Nothing wrong with Angry Young Men. Where would I be in life without them having guided me to where I am today? Oh yeah - happily married and well-adjusted with a steady income....

Well, that's overrated anyway. Better to prove your point and starve for it, or drop your trousers like Allen Ginsberg, only to switch over to the yuppie model about 10 or 15 years later than normal, when you just can't stand the futility of being right anymore.

God I have become cynical. "wRex" indeed. You've corrupted my innocent soul, where the glass is half full, where the void doesn't pull, where the living's not dull, where a bad day's a lull, not depression in full. I'm going to punch your skull.

There you've gone and made me do it damn you, I had avoided simple rhyming for nearly 3 hours!! Come out from behind that ficus plant with your hands up!


It's not that I'm trying to help you along on that site; it's just a fuckin' eyesore on my own page where all my friends have human heads except you, who seem to resemble a giant question mark.

I'll even stop taking the piss for at least 72 hours once it's done. How's that sound? Deal?

J.M.S. Beagle

Pee-Ess: Get rid of this damn letter verification too unless you suspect you'll get instantly crushed by a lorry full of porn spammers. It makes me feel as though I'm typing out Welsh words half the time, and Irish the other half. That or the name of the Elder Gods in the Cthulhu mythos. Not very fun any way you slice it, and I can't speak for other but I'm not too keen on going insane and being eaten.