celebrity genocide in the reality fields no.1

torches for freedom, exploitation and mind-control… celebrity genocide in the reality fields… greasy fingers of the most-famous stuffed liberally into the mouths of idiot-children; taught complacency, narcissism and self in a media-field of the vapid, vacuous and beautiful… painted faces like abortionist clowns…

don’t protest, don’t vote; remain docile… look at everything that we have done for you… teenagers taught to clutch their electronic ornaments of servitude, all flickering lights and photoshopped sex delineation, devoid of meaningful purpose, quiescent and unengaged… innocents gang-raped into submission under neon lights…

sordid dreams of our holy advertisers, marketers and benevolent media… hollow meaningless death in the intellectual void of the machine behind the glazed-eyes of the soul-less celebrity mask… sucking satan’s cock for the corporate shilling… reduced to meaningless puppets, devoid of real life…

mahogany table eucharist rituals… drink of the blood capital, taste of the corporate body… a brutal race to the bottom, agony of the lowest common denominator, perfectly capturing the optimum wound profile…  celebrity is the lieutenant of exploitation, and we are all next… diseased tongues lapping at the rotting offal…

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dreams of the dictator no.1

the dictator sleeps-sweet upon the crimson flower-meadow, patriot missile dreams fall light across his feathered pillow… against the thorns of roses tender cities rip and fall…  hear how the persian nightingale’s from the darkened heavens call…

democratic lines of lilies wilt atop the severed hill… lullabies whisper lies: rape, slaughter, torture, kill… warlord incantations rain down like fairy snow… blood runs thick where the graveyard rivers gently flow…

rosy river-death dark-demon human war… civilian wounded army-fake crippled grieving raping sore… tanks smashing children’s toys, terror thrilled screaming boys… petal stamen imperial hallowed tenderness destroys…

weep mothers weep beside dictators fast asleep… where the warlord and the rosy-river together hope defeat…

– bianca laleh

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jeremiah iv : 23-27

i beheld the earth, and, lo, it was waste and void; and the heavens, and they had no light… i beheld the mountains, and, lo, they trembled, and all the hills moved to and fro… i beheld, and, lo, there was no man, and all of the birds of the heavens were fled… i beheld, and, lo, the fruitful field was a wilderness, and all the cities thereof were broken down at the presence of the lord, and before his fierce anger… for thus saith the lord: this whole land shall be desolate; yet i will not make a full end…

– jeremiah

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fear incantations from the western lands no.3

surveillance drones sail high above the demilitarised-zone… insect buzzing behind insect eyes, following the nazca line blast-wall corridors circling the green zones… checkpoints, defence forces, border patrols, la migra… machine guns and flashlights out across the swamp-lands, desert lands, over the hazy moonlit delta… wheeling bodies into the pit,  clouded in cement dust; creeping existential panic…

a hostile world, slowly rendered meaningless, one which no one any longer truly understands… systems expanding and contracting; deplorables, carcinogens and pharmaceuticals… guerrillas storming the lobbies, black helicopters hovering over downtown, five percent nuclear war; game theory statisticians clawing at the disparate data strands as superstructures buckle under the weight of a thousand detuned mass dampers…

fear incantations from the western lands… controllers, operators, mannequins, idiot boys, doomed girls; decay, collapse and burning body parts… cities of the brave new world in flames… throwness, lostness… fire-bombing, carpet-bombing… child soldiers bleed out on field hospital folding beds…  embedded reporters lying to themselves as the tanks roll in like doomed centipede columns… tyranny, war, mind-games… coup, putsch, junta, regime change…

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blood-letting and the virgin bride no.3

new jerusalem measured in cartesian geometry as technicolor fears and lucid doubts swarm with distortion out through the rusting valves… agony in the welding pit, turmoil on the shop floor… grand visions of staged reality built on a beautiful lie, now flooded with polluted ideas and strewn across fields of unexploded ordnance…

life as a series of bland background entertainment shows; live on stage ideologies… ritual blood-letting of  the virgin bride… policemen in parallel lines, idiot-boys, wild-girls… conflict, starvation, agony, meaninglessness… the screens steadily flickering through the cerebral cortex, psychotropic trips in an ongoing noise-field of paranoia and isolation…

centuries of self-harm… glass and steel monoliths rising from the desert in the dawn’s early light…  jagged knives against the city sky… greasy fingers plying their trade over mahogany tables; insatiable lust of the pension-funds… a figurehead in flames, captains of bled-out industry; tea dances and ballroom masquerades… this earth no longer sacrosanct…

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war reports from new jerusalem no.3

here is the new jerusalem, the glorious inhuman rite… dead insect eyes staring out from endless grave-sites… fields of nothing, forever, the policeman inside our head choking us to death… water-torture, terrorise; ambivalence in waves… steadily reducing civilisation to nil…

the children were conditioned to kill, the authorities cower in fear; pissing themselves in pits of corrupt sins… those games from the old-world battles and wars justified once again; a requiem of infernal sodomy… dancing demons in the oil-pools; diabolical suicide pacts, mass graves, mass genocide…

the governments served as theatre props, the guise of order, systems in place… operators pushing buttons, reacting to the flickering lights… no one understanding, no one in control… the poison keeps on coming, business-blood inside the veins… money-hunger drip-feeding power games…

dream-death scar the broken, primal screams inside the war zone… sleep-death covers the fallen… innocents chopped to pieces by the war machine… four per cent growth, cheap white goods and nazi-trump crusaders… pain incantations, nausea, salvage… fake it, fuck it, fight, fight, fight…

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