insidious utterances of the grim witch no.1

a dead, lifeless face, ripe with basic dishonesty, stares into the camera, as if a dismal puppet, or marionette for the depraved… we will support brutal dictators the world over…… we will sell arms to them, help bolster their oppressive regimes…..

we will turn our backs on our peaceful neighbours and help create new borders where they had previously be broken down……. her nasty countenance twists and contorts as she spills her evil and lies like foul bile being purged from her twisted and contorted guts…

we will help spread racism, bigotry and xenophobia…….. we will crush public healthcare, transport and education……. we will make sure that not one britain ever learns a second language or sees themselves as equal to the rest of the world……….

we will sodomise the heads of dead pigs and writhe in the blood of sacrificial children, we will completely dismantle any last traces of what could once be described as civilisation, culture, or even hope……..

……….she fixes her gaze one last time on the lens and stares, her elongated death stare, her lifeless, poisoned insect smile, insidious, sinister, evil…….

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modernity hymns no.3

replacing the idle hour with the corporate regime, taking the human out of humanity… marketing and advertising, invisible indoctrination, a band of ogilvy’s parade alongside feminist torches of freedom, pressed white shirts, eye patches; edward bernays chuckling from his celebrity booth…

we are here to replace raw existence with political games… make every resource a number or a debt… choke on our fingers, writhe in the blood of the lamb… taste of the corporate body and drink the economic eucharist wine, make the world your adversary… let your policies do the talking…

we will sanitise and synthesise… plans laid-out over the finest rosewood and mahogany boardroom tables… bloated pieces-of-white-shit, tailored in hugo boss sign white papers and fantasise of young girls and younger boys; preach moralistic agendas and try to coerce reality according to the revelations…

cop cars patrolling; thugs with shiny badges and guns, ready to murder, execute and torture on the drop of a dime… patrolling city blocks like vultures or carrion crows… pools of blood along worn sidewalks… we aim to take the civil out of civilisation… turn every person into a code without a name…

burning oil rigs pour plumes of black smoke columns into the endless night, endless radioactive materials spilling into the oceans… we side-line the mind for the digital program… rape and pillage, pollute and desecrate… eat it, shoot it, kill it… sell, sell, sell… fuck ’em all then go to hell….

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trump after inauguration no.4

sweden! …a thousand white piece-of-shit beer guts in baseball caps grunt and cheer… a duped mark is wheeled up onstage, all out of breath and out of time, freshly printed propaganda shirt… make amurikkka the ultimate police state again… a fallen star is born, mayhem and gang-rape in the aisles… 2% beer, corn dogs and foot long sandwiches of raw human waste…

this administration is running like a smoothly-operated death machine… IBM computers calculating KZ throughput as guards draped in finest hugo boss sip from their fanta bottles, reading fuchs news telling of great progress on the mighty wall… a hundred thousand mexicans flogged half to death and then brutally drowned in holy waters of the rio grande… boots in backs, tears in eyes…

watch him grab her aggressively by the pussy and leer close into her face… tangerine grimace, oily saliva, licking his lips, breathing through his nose… tiny shrivelled white piece-of-shit cock in his satin draws… aching cocaine uselessness and empty, soul-less sorrow… protracted octopus handshakes ensnaring their disgusted prey… being pulled into the vile slab of amber flesh and idiot stupidity… bleached grin of the bloated ignorance demon…

the world is a mess… the world is an angry place… mothers and children trapped in poverty in our inner cities… rusted-out factories scattered like tombstones across the landscape… the world is as angry as it gets… and from this day forward it is going to be amurikka first… we must protect our borders from the ravages of other countries… and we will be protected by god… a hundred thousand severed hands and feet form of mountain of flesh, soon to rot under a chemical sun…

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maelstrom no.1

defence mechanisms replace critical thought, kardashian-flesh media-porn export. gossip columns beat raw philosophy, conservative club members plot profane cartography. neo-nazi messages on supermarket shelves, prison death camp victims emaciate themselves. mud and silage, semen, imported sewer-scum, watch the dirty clergy grunt and fuck and cum.

little girls knickers in corporate ad campaigns, acid throated airborne toxins when it rains. trump-estuous infanticide bloated fat coated sick, something to cuddle, hurt, or something to lick. maelstrom madness in society and cell, told to buy what the suits try to get you to sell. dishonest honesty, alternative truths, sidelined perspective, context and proofs.

facebook-bored, screen-sore and living sick n tired, technical virtual hardware rewired. skunk, acid, meth, coke, the real ain’t real enough no more, time to join ’em, revolt or go mega hardcore. drugs that get harder, dreams further away, faulty existence, stars gone astray. decency left by the locked exit door, as long as we’re rich they can stay poor.

loot africa, the muslims can rot, civilisation’s the place rightness forgot. nihilistic music, books, behind people’s eyes, watch how it all withers, cowers and dies. defence mechanisms replace reason and sense, capitalism comes at the human expense. kardashian flesh media porn export, more bombs fall – nothing more to report.

– bianca laleh

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fascist victories no.1

Savage fascist victories, Faith n fear n foreigner. Autocratic dictatorship, Freedom’s executioner. Boredom at the polling station, Derision in the docks. Judgements void of justice, Time-bomb ticking clocks.

War is mediocre, Same old dying everyday. Decriminalised democracies, Make the workers pay. Entertainment cures all, The pint, the ball, the Netflix show… No point to intellectualise, Reason’s nowhere left to go.

Avoidance of the obvious, Distract, ignore, deny; Let the governments destroy and kill and win and spy. Ridiculous insidious, Shame n blame in vain. Catatonic misery, This mad-political game.

And so it carries on… Age, century, dark decade, Until the final hour cometh; Until the human starts to fade.

– bianca laleh

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modernity hymns no.2

Brilliant burning oil rigs, cops n thugs n boiling pigs, flagrant vagrant, guts-on-pavement, Trump and May, planetary disarray, error falter go astray, environmentally decay, disease dis-ease, sex n sleaze, war-torn cut-throat, greed n gloat, torture bugger rape n pillage, rotten sewer scum n spillage, pollutant mutant agony, slave n master savagery, capitalism exorcism, degradation catechism, winning losing beg and plea, softly see the human flee, gambling with baby blood, wasteful wanton purge n flood, fat-faced bloated orange skin, narcissistic sphincter-grin, crooked mind goodness-blind, horror terror fear combined, America first “don’t want ’em here”, pussy grabbing drool n leer, silly dumb unnecessary, make the world your adversary, panic manic conquer kill, blood of others splash n spill, alienation violation, invisible indoctrination, vile Gods imaginary, egoistic seminary, a million trillion guns n tanks, dollars, cars n laughing banks, eat it, shoot it, shag it, sell, fuck ’em all then go to hell.

– bianca laleh

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trump after inauguration no.3

the sinister grin of the tangerine dictator beams out from hundreds of thousands of ornaments of servitude as toby keith sings his little ignorant, racist heart out… black lives don’t matter… mexican lives don’t matter.. muslim lives don’t matter… queer lives don’t matter… poor lives don’t matter… a military drone sails high above a group of protesters, soon to be hosed in pig fat and fed to the dogs…

if she wasn’t my daughter, i’d probably grab her by the pussy and have her urinate all over me, every single day; until my interest or her beauty waned… thousands of column inches of fake news spiralling up into the sky like an all-new vj day ticker-tape parade, making amurikkka great again… strange fruit, gang-rape on the mason-dixon, oil barons and daisy duke… shock and awe lighting up your world like the 4th july…

we the people, jet-washed in kerosene fuel… set fire to… a glorious barbecue for the one per cent… holy-wood liberals throwing their toys out of their prams from their ivory towers, private islands, fleets of vehicles and vessels… draped in gowns and jewels… carbon footprint of the rock gods forever shrouded in the fog of their celebrity… starving children too weak to idolise anymore…

let us hand you your next one hundred years… peak oil, famine, rising tides, the war for fresh water… military drones flying over war zones back home… black helicopters, riot police, terror and celebrity… your children were not born free… a greasy fat bloated ageing white man sitting naked in a leather chair, all belly-guts and body odour… greedily stuffing his fingers into the mouth of a young black girl in tears…

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modernity hymns no.1

…they aim to take the human out of humanity… side-line the mind for the digital program… make obsolete the human need to be… replace ‘i think’ with ‘iphone therefore i am’…

…they aim to take the civil out of civilisation… replace raw existence with political games… make every resource a number or a debt… turn every person into a code without a name…

…they aim to take the personal out of personality… replace a pretty face with an on-line profile… make every sweet encounter up and downloadable… turn serendipity into substance without style…

…they aim to take pleasure out of all that’s pleasurable… side-line spontaneity for controlled circumstance… make living destiny into something to be bartered… favouring precision over random twists of chance…

…they aim to take the sex out of sexuality… replicate the lover via screens and imagery… turn the fairy tale ending into a ticket with a price… choosing the photograph over wild fantasy…

…they aim to take the wonder out of all that’s wonderful… sanitise and synthesise the symptoms of the soul… and if religion couldn’t do it then science will have a go… blending human being into a meaning and a goal…

…they aim to put the modem into man’s memory… transplant experience into measured capacity… turning the world into a cold commodity… all in the spirit of progressive modernity… the result? devaluation in the currency of me…

…they aim to take the human out of humanity… side-line consciousness for the virtual dream… make null and void philosophy and poetry… replace ‘i am’ with a voucher to redeem… then replace the idle hour with a corporate regime….

– bianca laleh

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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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