rgdinmalaysia on Xanga

“The press today is an army with carefully organized weapons, the journalists its officers, the readers its soldiers. But, as in every army, the soldier obeys blindly, and the war aims and operating plans change without his knowledge. The reader neither knows nor is supposed to know the purposes for which he is used and the role he is to play. There is no more appalling caricature of freedom of thought. Formerly no one was allowed to think freely; now it is permitted, but no one is capable of it any more. Now people want to think only what they are supposed to want to think, and this they consider freedom.” - Oswald Spengler

rgdinmalaysia

- Name: rgdinmalaysia
- Gender: Male
- Member Since: 3/29/2008

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Thursday, 04 February 2010

A POEM

AGENTS OF DELIBERATE MISERY

She helps herself to your bad dreams
It first appears to be an unobtrusive dysfunction
The national need for nightmare
The conjuring up of drama out of a situation that doesn’t seem that bad

Do you dare to speak your mind?
Selected not elected
My life is overblown, too much attention focused inwards
Pain doesn’t make you feel anymore alive because the pain is artificial and manufactured

They might have loved someone before you
But the necessary treatment was administered in time
She makes the cuts along her arm with symmetrical precision
The razor used is the negativity she harvests from knowing you

Monday, 01 February 2010

TWO POEMS

CAGE MATCH

I’m ready to march into this auditorium
Tonight it’s me vs. Mr. Negativity
I’ve been preparing and training for many months
This new positive attitude is the challenger in this title bout

Don’t the referees know that just being here gives me a win by default?
Don’t they know that no one in the audience is cheering for the opponent?
Hope sprang up and took a standing eight count but they didn’t stop the fight

This is the moment to be in the ring
Because up to only recently I would have taken a dive
Couldn’t see any further than the mental quicksand holding me fast

SENDER/RECEIVER

A too die for status
A pre-ordained position within this filthy business
Who’s in, who’s out not in Hollyweird but in your hometown

Must my shoes and my car dictate something else
Kiss me in a manner only made possible by my resume
Pretend it’s something else
Pretend you’re somewhere else
This is all that is left in a state of working poverty
He growls in your ear, re-establishing your lower place in the pack

Friday, 29 January 2010

A POEM

REFERRING TO ORIGAMI

And they folded emotions
Like origami
Into stiff bird shapes
Then they playacted the flight of the restrained

They kept the windows shut
Near a place where tigers go to die
The transformation of a man with skin of golden hue
Into a man with skin dripping with disgusting black goo
From the heavens to the pits - that’s the journey backwards!

And they put the world on notice
That it could become part of a revolving mobile
Under threat of being hung up like windchimes
Origami prisoners suspended for display

Wednesday, 20 January 2010

A POEM

AN UNDERGROUND RAILROAD

My life is like a wrecking ball
A punishment used on misbehaving children
Watch them go quiet very quickly

My life’s like a cannon ball
Raining down on the fortress on the hill
All prisoners will be put to the sword

In among a trail of destroyed real estate
Don’t be in such a hurry to rebuild
I must reject the history of the materials and consequently the whole building

And don’t let them feed you “things are looking up”
And don’t let them change the subject
Or airbrush the photos
Or avoid eye contact

This is not a girl-boy game you can settle with surrender
Took her to a Japanese restaurant and then drove her home without a kiss

And don’t let them paralyze your tongue
Or preside over your punctual disappointment
Like a Mussolini with jutting jaw and a handful of train schedules
When restless icons fumble their chance at posterity,
It’s time for change!

Wednesday, 13 January 2010

A POEM

DELICIOUS AGONY

O delicious agony
That shapes you in the wrong way

O closure driven consciousness
That seeks resolution for all parties
But accomplishes nothing

Childhood dream ogres
Step in to the present day
Elbowing you in the ribs, messing up your hair
When you least expect it
In the elevator, in the office

O the pain you can’t live without
The self-created torturer’s appointment is for life
Like little boys living in bombed out buildings
Wondering when their luck is going to change