.

And by a prudent flight and cunning save A life which valour could not, from the grave. A better buckler I can soon regain, But who can get another life again? Archilochus

Friday, February 20, 2015

Alien-Nated

A small boy travels to a distant land,
knows not his custom, language and hand.

Knows not his value, faith, and face,
knows not his virtue, love, and place.

He's alien in this nation of rules and laws.
By virtue, a rebel without a cause.

Trapped in his place of walls without walls,
an alien by nature when his nature calls.

He seeks out others of similar fate,
he seeks them out before it's too late.

They convince him that their cause is just.
They convince him they alone he must trust.

In a nation without station a plan is hatched,
in an intricate pattern the flax is thatched.

One life for the cause with heaven at stake.
He is now in a trance and will not awake.

He's knock, knock, knockin' on Heaven's Gate.
Please, please stop him before it's too late!

Should have never reached this state:
ostracized, separated, alienated and berate.

When will we learn to confront our fears,
the alien in our nature that causes tears?
- Ronald W. Hull, "Alienation"

8 comments:

FreeThinke said...

Highly reminiscent of Murray Head's "Say It [Isn't] So," ain' it? };-)>

Of which I offer here his sister, Bea's admirably corrected version:

Say it isn't so, Joe, please, say it isn't so.
___ That's not what I want to hear, Joe,
Don't I have a right to know?
Say it isn't so Joe, please, say it isn't so.
___ I'm sure they're telling us lies, Joe;
Please tell us it's not so.

They told us that our hero
___ Has played his trump card;
He doesn't know how to go on.
__ We're clinging to his charm
And determined smile,
__ But the good old days have gone.

The image and the Empire
___ May be falling apart;
The money's getting scarce,
___ One man's word held
The country together,
__ But the truth is getting fierce.
Say it isn't so Joe,
___ Please, say it isn't so.
We pinned our hopes on you, Joe,
__ And they're, ruining our show.

Oh my friends, don't you think;
___ We're going to get burned?
Oh my friends, don't you think;
___ We're going to get burned?
We're going to get turned,
___ We're going to get learned,
Yes, we're going to get turned.
___ We're going to get burned,
We're going to get learned,
___ Yes, we're going get burned.
We're going to get burned,
___ We're going to get learned,
Yes, we're going to get turned,
___ We're going to get burned.

FreeThinke said...

Corrected or not - even though poor Murray's heart may be in he right place -- the paucity of good literary style in BOTH of these selections reveals the regrettable, even horrific, developments their poor words decry have ALREADY come to pass.

We wouldn't accept these banal, rather pathetic ways of asking age old questions and stating home truths if we had not already sunk deeply into a degenerative cultural condition.

"The Century of the Common Man!"

BAH HUMBUG!

PHOOEY!

-FJ the Dangerous and Extreme MAGA Jew said...

The paucity of words is reflective of the psychological "state". The Master has "words". His servant (the hysteric) merely "muscle movements" reacting to them. It takes him "time" to develop his "voice".

-FJ the Dangerous and Extreme MAGA Jew said...

...for like the dacha in Italy, we need "both" eyes to properly visualize the scene.

Always On Watch said...

The Doors

Yes, indeed, I'm a fan of The Doors.

-FJ the Dangerous and Extreme MAGA Jew said...

Morrison channeled a lot of psychology, no doubt about it.

FreeThinke said...

Dacha's in ITALY?

Yagotta be kiddin,' right?

Dey ain't got no dachas in Italy, only in Russia.


___ CLASS WARFARE ___


Bang! Bang! I gotcha
In front of your dacha
Up your no-bi-li-ty!

Bang bang bang bang!
Bang bang bang!

But hey! there's no dacha
No matter watcha
Say in I-ta-ly!

Bang bang bang bang!
Bang bang bang bang!
Bang bang bang BANG!

To In-fi-ni-ty!
WHEEEEEE!


~ Che Gazpacho, Revulsionary

Thersites said...

Not YET, anyway. ;)