A Message To The People From Your Government

A Message To The People From Your Government

You will know only what we choose for you.
You will do only what we need you too.
You will believe only what we show to you.
You will reap only what we sow for you.
You will sit there and you will take it.
You will like it or at least fake it.
You will believe in this great nation.
You will look to us for your salvation.
You will do exactly as we say.
You will say exactly what we say.
You will be whatever we want you to be.
You will conform to our conformity.

By J. Barrett

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Sometimes I sit and I'm staring at a blank page,
Sometimes it all flows too fast.
And my fingers're struggling to keep up with my brainwaves,
Until its all out at last.
But then I read it back and it doesn't make any sense,
So I've got to write it again.
Is it good, is it bad, I'm sitting on the fence,
At war with my paper and pen.

But then sometimes I sit back, my mind has grown weary,

And my eyes glide over the words.

But as I read the scribbles and get down to the theory,

Suddenly it's not all so absurd.

When you realise that you've created a thing,

And others are reading it too,

And as your words spread, your heart, it sings,

These people are connected to you.

By J. Barrett

A Tale Of Change

A Tale Of Change

“Excuse me, Young Man, can I please have some change?”

I looked at this man and said, “Yes sir, you may,

But whether or not the change will take hold,

Is anyone's guess, for this story's untold.

We can change the way we perceive the poor,

But does that mean they will receive any more?”

He looked up at me with his rheumatised eyes,

And his look said to me, “Quit telling me lies.”

And I felt for him then, this old man with no home,

This man of no wealth that people had left all alone.

I pulled my hand from my pocket and gave him a gift,

The change that overcame him was enjoyably swift.

The look in his eyes, as they brimmed up with tears,

Of all of the hurt he'd endured through the years,

That look in his eyes, that look of despair,

That look of one who's been treated unfair.

It all disappeared when I gave him that gift,

And all of a sudden his mood started to lift.

His soul had been changed, by one little gesture,

And all of that hate that had sat there and festered,

Seemed to vanish away, float off on the air,

When suddenly he knew, that somebody did care.

The gift that I gave him, was nothing to me,

In fact we can all give it, poor and wealthy.

And if that one little gift can change someone's life,

Gather all of the wrongs and make them all right,

Then surely we all should be sharing it round,

From the ones at the top, to the ones on the ground.

I smiled at him then, and he returned it to me,

And that was just brilliant to see.

A smile on the face of an unfortunate soul,

Someone who most people see as a troll.

Someone whom nobody had ever had the time,

This somebody who had received this nothing of mine.

As I left him standing there, just where he'd been,

I'd given him this gift, it was now time to leave.

“Thank you Young Man, this is better than cash,

'Cos now I can choose to pass it on or give back.

But whatever I do, it is going to be strange,

Someone like me handing out change.”

I smiled at him then, and couldn't thank him enough,

Because all I had given him, was a hug.

By J. Barrett

Proformity

Proformity

We came.      We sore. We concurred.

It's all about sex

It's all about pain

It's all about conforming.

to the main

  stream.

But.

What if...

We made

We draw

We thought

for ourselves.

Don't conform                         to the norm.

  Proform

Be different.

Be new.

Be

       –

                                                                 You

By J. Barrett

Man Rape Man

Man Rape Man

We all synonymise the word 'rape',

With women being violently violated

of their gift for their chosen few;

And of the men, this gift they take.

But our brains need to be dilated.

It happened to me, it can happen to you.

It was past midnight, the club was pumping,

I was full of drinks, staggering cheerfully.

And got talking to some dudes, as you do.

Around me the party, it was jumping,

And one offered to get a beer for me.

Now, I'm not one to pass up free drink or food,

And I accepted his offer to get me a drink.

Just thought he was being friendly.

And I was a lonely stranger in strange land.

Of the consequences I just didn't think.

After all this club was Über trendy,

And who'd ever been date raped by a man?

The party raged on, at least in my head,

But then the darkness came on and forth.

How I got from A to B, I'll never know,

I had no memory of where I'd been led.

But that was his sinister plan, of course,

This normal, below average looking Joe.

Even still, now, it's all so very hazy,

Especially the how, the when & the what.

But I remember coming to on his couch,

My pants were down, and this man he

had me in his mouth, the whole lot.

My muggy brain forced me up with a shout,

And I pushed him away as he came

at me with a force not at all relative

to his size (he was much smaller than I).

His face wore a twisted mask of pain,

A lover scorned, let down by his sedative

And he yelled as he came, tears in his eye.

But fortunately for me he was no match,

And I swatted him as one would a fly,

And blundering, I tried escaping his house.

At the front door I struggled with the catch,

But finally managed to escape into the night,

An elephant running scared from the mouse.

Through the twisting streets I ran and I ran,

Until I finally knew my way back home,

And finding my bed, I curled up to sleep.

I pushed away thoughts of that little man,

Choosing to deal with it all on my own,

By pushing it down deep, oh so deep,

And pretending it had never occurred.

But there's some things you can't escape.

Hopefully this will make you all think,

Next time you're out, getting liquor'd;

It's not just women who can get raped,

Please be careful when accepting that drink.

By J. Barrett

B.O.B (Bombs Obliterate Bags)

B.O.B (Bombs Obliterate Bags)

Today the threat is bombs in bags.

Before it was the bombs over Baghdad.

What is it we're going to do next?

Have everyone wear a blast-proof vest?

Its a knee jerk reaction such as this,

That pushes me toward being an anarchist.

Because without any rules to break or live by,

It just doesn't matter who lives and who dies.

And though it may seem that the powers-that-be,

Just don't give a shit about you or about me.

Without targets, their missiles are just pieces of steel.

Useless cylindrical weapons with nothing to kill.

They could fire them at each other; “Fire at will!”

But there's no fun in that, with no innocents to kill.

They need us, their puppets, who dance on the strings,

They need to destroy us and our material things.

Our material things that they want us to buy,

Like houses and cars and surround sound hifi.

The goods we don't need, just to keep us in debt,

The bank owns most of your stuff, I will bet.

So do us all a favour, rise up and be heard,

Gather your friends, start spreading the word.

Let get things together, let's make a stand,

And then, as one, we'll stick it to The Man.

Tell him, “No more, we've all had enough,

“We're sick of you coming and fucking our stuff,

“No more will you kill us for the profits of war,

“No more will we die, be hungry or poor.

“No more will it be each man for himself,

“You're going to give us food, shelter and health.”

And one final thing as we tear down their walls,

Why for so long have we been led by The Fools?

By J. Barrett

Our Poor Mother

Our Poor Mother

We are a virus, and we are unique.
Because of our self-destructive streak.
Not intent on just killing our host,
We end up hurting ourselves the most.
With war and famine, blood and pain,
When one is over, it all happens again.
We all have the power, power to change,
Let's start by farming a shooting range.
Let's start by taking the homeless, the poor,
The orphans and races ravaged by war.
Let's give them our love and understanding,
Using the profits from corporate branding.
Let's give them a roof, safety and food,
Let it only be oil that's the only thing crude.
Let's give them health, dignity, poise,
Let us rise up from the media's noise.
Let's take all the guns and melt them back down.
And use them to make some beautiful sounds.
They call them their “Instruments of War”,
Get rid of them though, and they'll hurt us no more.
Let's break them all up and use all the parts,
To make real instruments that are played from the heart.
Imagine a world with no violence, just love.
And the music we'd play to the heaven's above.
The world as a band, performing its song.
Doesn't this sound so right? Where the hell'd we go wrong?
Why does our race insist on bloodshed?
Why is it everyone's ending up dead?
Why do the people stand by and watch?
How can the people stand by and watch!?
It's time for us now to start doing good deeds,
Not bothering about race, colour or creed.
Let's bother about poverty, let's bother about war,
Let's bother about getting our race back on its horse.
But that's only one step, there's lots more to go,
Cos after ourselves, we need to clean up our home.
Mother nature has suffered, enough is enough,
We've fucked up her house and stolen her stuff.
And if we don't change, she'll come up with a cure,
And the human race will be racing no more.
Let's get out of wallowing in the filth of our greed,
Let's plant lots of love, and water the seeds.
Who knows, we might even learn what was wrong,
And slowly, but surely start getting along.
But before we unite and peace is achieved,
We really should be planting some trees.
And cleaning the land, the shores and the seas,
And everything else we've abused on our spree.
And maybe one day the kids will reflect,
And see how the people learned to respect.

By J. Barrett