Gray Man Of The Money Machine
© Surazeus
2018 06 21
The man in the gray suit with black briefcase
stops walking along with the busy crowd
and stares beyond the blank infinite sky
at reflection of his face in the void.
"I am but one small useless broken cog
stuck somewhere in the vast money machine,
so farms and factories will produce goods
whether I sit at my desk or in the grass."
Dropping the briefcase full of sales reports,
the gray man walks over the river bridge
where he hears for the first time song of wind
and soft laughter of the indifferent river.
Stripping off his gray suit, the hairless ape
sits on grass mound in the middle of traffic
and watches lights blink yellow, red, and green,
while people chase rainbows for the machine.
"The basic rule of our commercial game
states if you work then you will get to eat,
but if you fail to contribute your labor
you will receive no share of the reward.
Because I understand this sentiment,
I choose to no longer participate
operating commercial enterprise
that crushes individuals who resist.
I would rather sit here on mindless grass
and savor wordless beauty of the world
while I starve and vanish from the fierce game
of eat or be eaten to win the name.
Though my descendants vanish from the world,
defeated in the chess game of place power,
stronger and wiser people will survive
thus I die so some humans become gods.
Forces of evil greed to control nature
assert strong will to dominate our culture
but since they must fight so hard every day
their drive sputters from grim weakness of fear.
Though evil seems to prevail at this hour,
when police kill people with darker skin
and lock children of immigrants in prisons,
their power will burn out and good will prevail.
Because they work so hard to maintain power
of oppressive rule over normal people
their engine of power will run out of hate
and they will fade in natural light of love.
The system of our capitalist venture,
funding operations of food production,
may collapse into chaos of desire,
but I will remain in calm meditation.
I wander so lost in flashing illusions
when I prophesy what future events
may transform from this current situation
that I forget to perceive the real world."
The gray man on the mound in traffic flow
transforms into the gaunt wolf with long hair
who shouts weird prophesies at passing cars
who chase each other for glow of prestige.
© Surazeus
2018 06 21
The man in the gray suit with black briefcase
stops walking along with the busy crowd
and stares beyond the blank infinite sky
at reflection of his face in the void.
"I am but one small useless broken cog
stuck somewhere in the vast money machine,
so farms and factories will produce goods
whether I sit at my desk or in the grass."
Dropping the briefcase full of sales reports,
the gray man walks over the river bridge
where he hears for the first time song of wind
and soft laughter of the indifferent river.
Stripping off his gray suit, the hairless ape
sits on grass mound in the middle of traffic
and watches lights blink yellow, red, and green,
while people chase rainbows for the machine.
"The basic rule of our commercial game
states if you work then you will get to eat,
but if you fail to contribute your labor
you will receive no share of the reward.
Because I understand this sentiment,
I choose to no longer participate
operating commercial enterprise
that crushes individuals who resist.
I would rather sit here on mindless grass
and savor wordless beauty of the world
while I starve and vanish from the fierce game
of eat or be eaten to win the name.
Though my descendants vanish from the world,
defeated in the chess game of place power,
stronger and wiser people will survive
thus I die so some humans become gods.
Forces of evil greed to control nature
assert strong will to dominate our culture
but since they must fight so hard every day
their drive sputters from grim weakness of fear.
Though evil seems to prevail at this hour,
when police kill people with darker skin
and lock children of immigrants in prisons,
their power will burn out and good will prevail.
Because they work so hard to maintain power
of oppressive rule over normal people
their engine of power will run out of hate
and they will fade in natural light of love.
The system of our capitalist venture,
funding operations of food production,
may collapse into chaos of desire,
but I will remain in calm meditation.
I wander so lost in flashing illusions
when I prophesy what future events
may transform from this current situation
that I forget to perceive the real world."
The gray man on the mound in traffic flow
transforms into the gaunt wolf with long hair
who shouts weird prophesies at passing cars
who chase each other for glow of prestige.
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