Classes: Ruling, Fooling, And Drooling Poem by Alfred Barna

Classes: Ruling, Fooling, And Drooling



Broken dreams, broken bones
Broken schemes, and broken homes
Trying hard to keep us laughing
When we should be crying
Trying hard to pretend this is living
When we should be dying
Soma for the subliminal masses
While the upper echelons get the passes
Teaching evermore, to inside the classes
The ruling, the fooling, and the drooling
Interconnected in an electronic brain
How can it all make sense, when it's all insane?

Huxley, was a huckster, not feeling all fare Wells
Making the conjure for the societal strata sells
Bailey made it clear to extend the hierarchy out
Initiations for the little men, just like you and me
That's what 9-11 and boogey men are all about
So they can spread contagion worldwide you see
Thuggery in culture, in the last days, fierce as foretold
They hail the burning man burning, yet we grow cold
Elliot spoke of the hollow men who have lost control
The ruling, the fooling, and the drooling
Interconnected in an electronic brain
How can it all make sense, when it's all insane?

We are as lost, as a wanderer can ever be
Paradox and parallel as information is all around me
Yet language itself gets evermore scarcer to define
Monosyllabic morons, texting into the dark of night
We are the men of lesser gods, no treasures in the mine
How can we even begin to stop this, to begin to fight?
We can ever remember what has brought us to this place
Our forefathers may has well been from outer space
We are defective detectives who have lost our case
The ruling, the fooling, and the drooling
Interconnected in an electronic brain
How can it all make sense, when it's all insane?

Sunday, September 21, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Art
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I seem to remember the first law of databases....garbage in...garbage out.
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