God and Mammon III
February 10, 2018
Respecting the Christian virtues – ha ha-ha!
Respecting? Huff! rejecting, that is we
Who have aspired, desired, sublimely-highly mired
Lusted, trusted, the new taboos and fancy lights
Lamps a la mode no bushell might obscure, pursuits of taste
No intemperate might abjure; our fables, spoons, devour our appetites –
Shoring up fast-release no-pain and on-
Demand societies; farewell to our once proprieties
Lying at rest amongst a bitter ruin
A nest of cueing tantalises, fantasises, tittilates
The advertisers whims we see ourselves to be
Crested in plumuge, fluttering delicate and rare
Are fine birds in our mind’s eye; where something other others see
To which we are nothing privvy, because being somewhat giddy,
Our claws perforce pounce retail hunts gone on uproariously
Tabbing and bagging expending manners vicariously
All seeking sovereign goods and in a lost country
Ah, me!
Oh, how the works of commerce churn, bread-milling down good faith,
Crumbling up onetime decencies, recycling onetime grace,
Wise ardent errancies
Raise up their heads in corporation tips, their companies
Of Hobbinol hobgoblins gone about the night
So many making rush to snatch a market right
Not of an old kind earned and earned for everman
Rules that exclude; exude coraals, incarcerations,
Hold captive cells
O, let us hear the news;
Let us rejoice, our weapons factories keeping safe employed,
Alive in comforts, thousands, that that foreign dude
(No virgin birth, scum of the earth) allows, and buys,
Continued imports
This is a bag of sugar allsorts fallen in our laps
Sweets we shall blandly chew-on and set out anew
To export death.
Yes, so lies uppermost our buttered toast ubiquitously
These hobgoblins, their haggling staggering indecorous deals
Ferreting preciously, affixed upon nefarious steals
For morsel money
Turn ferris wheels
Keeps them earning: money’s burning, all’s smart-suits, high-heels
Only the lowy-supping maudlin blues bombed, car crashing,
Only the guy not riding high resorts to calabashes
For feed; he eats with termites, labours with the mole
Forever mute inglorious
A marketplace injurious, injudicious, packs our grapes
Sublimely, supinely, all’s in plastic wraps
Refinedly the peoples will not touch an opened batch
Not sanctioned by a sterile atmosphere
Yet not to knock back toxins; greedily vape and sling down beers
No deal, no way!
Then kidnap the world take it on holiday
Plane off to Rio, fat-cat style au fe
Even the meagre people do it in this nether nether land
Wind round their fingers most selectively,
Most seductively,
These too-much-takers
Pursued by global marching bands of too-much-makers
Surfing the goods upon us, info-surfeiting our brains,
Landslide collateral ocean-loads, delerious batteries
Of stuffs that stuff the rubbish dumps; this happy island breed
Its green and pleasant lees
Literally so much litter, draw a line here in the sand
And you will meet some, maybe eat some; any beach
Might boast
A cornucopia overstocked with overflowing casts
Plus gutters, hedgerows, verges, even in the public parks
Salute also a leisured eye decorous verdancies
With installation art
Ah, then, let us make friends and make friends buy from us
Or sell to us, to do us favour, cause we like them so
(Their favours).
Pretend they’re flavours of the month for fifteen minutes
As much as an attention span can stand
Splash about hospitality and make as things are grand,
And trash those dirty foreigners who pass the cash in hand
That’s bribery!
Being so nice to get a price by being kindly likeable
Packs no kickback better than more sweet deal calls all round
Even the foreign travel in five stars all found
Has no downsides
Are donkeys, we take ourselves and everybody for a ride
Wearing the fabric out on seats in lead negotiation suits
Then the frequency narrows on what discernment constitutes
Appropriated are appropriate means
A hawk from a handsaw cannot be told of anymore
We wallow
We swallow
The schemes and regimes ‘casacded’ down the standing pipes
Taking them up like brassy hand-me-downs left on a beach
Trinkets as springes to catch woodcocks
And so we’ve lost our teeth
So what the pretenders say we take as gospel
Those who would challenge Kingship of a ransomed World
With such a Great One, read only their scriptures
About themselves
Never more holy than times when satisfaction plays
Their tune above the hubbub of a world’s wheyhey
Than when their auto-erotic itch has risen lightly twitched
And lambs as to slaughter follow them, they go -abaaahing
Trains of retainers, emulators, eager sparring,
Oh, notice me, sir! - No, sir me! - like kids in class
Seen from above as specimens wrigling under glass
So curious, aren’t they.
Such are the lays, the ways, of present mighty men
Conquistador smartguy Game of Thrones sharp dealers
Mashing the modern world into a horrid likeness
In graven image of their idol selves
Paper impressed by sacred dollar bills
Their giveaways
Foundations raised after my name to live-on when I’m gone
Into Elysean Fields of Barbary
And I, a memory of me, hero, yet remains alive -
As tragi-comedy
A consciousness crushing astute air-brushing litany
Of names and fames and whoso would be premier
Is all the kerfuffle the nursery battle, tiffs over lemonade
Going apace, an inhuman race of fantasies -
Disuse of the path of truth has reaped these thorns and briers
Grown over its way since first it was laid by loveliness
Bringing business to bandits who lay in wait for passers-by
Smiling, yet ever something fiscal in their eye
Mild-mannered fawning men
Ready to cut your throat
Stragglers a few defy curfew and muster troubled ranks
There where a sign of presence breathes to shape itself unto
A cosy comfortable easy world, the blinds down, banquetting
Where change of loyalyies impromptu brings aclaim
And being brutal nasty, caring nothing , makes a name
And serves as entertainment, and its tenor all the same,
Inane plain misbehaviour
So what about a Saviour?
High on a hill whereon a pill of medicine was brought
To lips alone sufficient, necessary, to safehold us,
Just as the elders told us
A pill with power to kill forever clever clever man
A cure no other than a Saviour Brother might fulfill
For us our labour
And take, and so remake, a whirlpool world,
Which does not break again
By breaking of himself, as of some pelf, remainder,
As our retainder
Such, and so much, maintains the hurtling worlds in motion
His are the arching arms held holding always underneath
His is the reach which underscores all notions, probities
All nobodies, all bigshots, in his charge
His charge for service to us, gratis, open, free,
No hidden fee
Only believe
To do honour to right things, right to bitter death, was his
Endurance, pleasure, dignity and circumstance
So we must now like David praise, get on our feet, join him,
Lord of the Dance.