Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Intelligence Is Imperfect - by Carey Lenehan

Did you know that...

Intelligence is imperfect...
but
plastic surgery will fix the flaws
so glaring to the eye,
which I will now hide.
Watch me tape some silicone
into the hollowed out remains
of a shaken morality
and call it knowledge.
Perhaps I can sculpt my kind of peace,
from the scarred battlegrounds of faith
and failed diplomacy,
with the tapered blade of a surgeon's scalpel
and call it necessity?
All I need,
is to apply a little liposuction
upon those irritating facts
and
Hey Presto!
We have a whole new set of meanings,
adapted interpretations
on the definition
of political protest
with which we may now design our world
the way I like it
so that no one really knows any longer
what is real and what is fake
or if there is any difference
between the two.
Score.

Did you know that...

I will hunt down and kill every terrorist...
just
to make the world a safer place
for my girls... and the dog,
hypoallergenically of course.
Now you will find me,
pulling the curtains around my recovery bed,
body-scanning every mortal
or non-conformist
who dares to bring sulphurised pants
across my borders.
In future,
dissenters must be laser epilated,
teeth-whitened
and grafted with skin from the contented
who are already many and ample.
In this way,
the savage ugliness of rationality
will be entirely exfoliated
before anyone sees the beauty of truth
and realises that the Constitution
has had the mother of all facelifts
and will never look the same again.


Did you know that...

My cause is just... my resolve unwavering
because
those whom I must appease
have set me on the path
to physical enlightenment
with the possibility of becoming
exactly like them in every way
so now,
all the imperfect thoughts I had
before I was elected
have been colonically irrigated,
flushed, filtered and purified
until little remains
but unidentifiable sludge.
Now with the channels cleared
and the toxins expunged,
bullshit passes uninterrupted
into the ready plumbing of trusting ears.
- It's like a miracle -
and all the things I was before
I am no longer.
This is a process I am anxious to share
with each and every American.
And some foreigners too...
If I can catch them.

Did you know that...

Yes we can!
But I didn't.
I wore a different hat
and pretended
it was the same one I had been sporting all along.
But you see,
this disguise has allowed me to redefine the world
to my own unique design,
which is much the same as the old design,
in fact,
I used it as a template,
but it has been tweaked and tucked
until I like the way it looks.
Of course the post-op will be bloody and
for a while,
quite painful
for those who suffer from the infection of diversity
but antibiotics
will soon clear that up.
And let it be seen
that I have changed the CIA to Xe
and made them beautiful,
interchangeable on all levels,
a delicious, hybrid, concoction of hate
for which I can never be blamed.
But I cannot rest
until all the ugliness that we do not wish to see
- because it offends who we think we are -
is gone,
plumped with botox,
so that the wrinkles
will never show...

Did you know that...

..When this war began, we were united
and I refuse to accept the notion
that we cannot summon that unity again
Because
I know better than anyone else,
how easy it is to persuade the insecure
that acid throwers lurk
on every corner,
whilst underwear bombers flock,
through passportless controls
waiting to cause third degree burns,
of a disfiguring nature,
to aircraft seats.
I cannot await the flood
of explosive breast implants
and incendiary hair extensions
lighting up the skies over America
as the imperfect hordes invade,
which is why I must act now,
no matter how wrong I might be in the future.
All errors can be redesigned
to resemble intent,
so be assured,
that even if my Intelligence is Imperfect
I
am not.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

Poles Apart by Carey Lenehan

We ran in the same streets
but we walk in different worlds
You and I, poles apart,
thinking, not thinking
about understanding each other,
no chance of ever seeing
eye to eye
Equality unequally distributed,
you see you
at the top of the food chain,
whereas I,
a mere reflection of yourself,
am somewhere down deep in the pond

Skin, stature, sex, sin, sisterhood,
you will never see what I see,
only the walls of the world
that fences you in to conformity
with me on the outside because I,
dressed in the threads of exception,
find conformity too straight a jacket

You see the world numerical, divisible, distributable,
Whereas I,
who came from the earth and never left,
perceive symbiosis, unity,
the absolute art of the whole,
that radiant goddess
from whom you cut chunks
and pretend there flows no blood

You cannot make us alike because of a deed,
a slash of pen on paper
You drown in incomprehension
as we circle each other
swimming in different waters,
bound only by a name,
same same, but different

You have lost the real world,
as you count profits and study the Nasdaq,
allergic to green grass and fresh air
but I am still living there,
treading the wet earth between my toes,
watching the seasons change,
listening to the fading heartbeat
of your cash cow

My earth will take me back when I am done
but where will you go to, my brother?
Will you be divisible too?
Will your company count your profit and loss
and the trees mourn your passing?
Will the pipelines shed a tear,
will your office be refilled with
a clone of you?
Will we be equal?
Can you ever... be my equal?

PCP (Political Correctness Pill) by Carey Lenehan

I pop it in my mouth, this political pill,
feel it fizz on my tongue
and the back of my throat go numb,
Feel it whizz in my bloodstream
This PCP
Suddenly I become,
a POLITICIAN.

Now, I believe, I never inhaled
when the joints were passed at Uni.
Now only I know the way
the rest of you should live.
Well, just like me, of course

The effect of PCP
changes everything I see
The new black is white
and all the shades in between
As a Politician, only I know
How to manage the roads, or Justice, or Crime
or how
You should manage your time

In this Democra-sea, the pill changes me...
Now, I don't say what I think, but only what I think
you want to hear.
Now my opinions are loose,
change in my pockets,
available to the highest bidder

Let me check the text, to see what comes next.
Now I'm a man for all people, everyone equal,
below me.
Now I'm a prince amongst men, hobnobbing when
I should be sticking up for the poor, but
you see,
I'm not poor any more.

Now I must think of the years after
the effect has worn off,
when the nobs that I hobbed
whilst under the influence
will give me the job
of my dreams and all this PCP, wil be
behind me.

Pointless Dreaming by Carey Lenehan

I dream about innumerable things
Vast and fervent wonderings
Gallant knights and days of old
Battles fought and heroes bold

I dream of love immeasurable
Perfection so compatible
Tenderness and strength entwined
In virtuosity combined

I dream of wisdom all around
Of smokeless, bloodless battlegrounds
Where bravery can never die
And happy children never cry

A world in which the sun shines through
A never ending dream of blue
Where all of us are rich and fed
And innocence is never dead

In my foolish, wistful dreams
Justice always intervenes
Perfect truth pervades our souls
And unity becomes our goal

Perfect lives and perfect loves
Clear blue seas, clean sky above
No one too rich and none too poor
Then I would dream for nothing more

On The Eve of War by Carey Lenehan © 2002

We're bringing chaos to your lands,
with loaded weapons in our hands
and tanks that leave a legacy
of mutant children and disease.

We'll bring our coca cola aims
and play our sordid little games,
for profit, pride and arrogance,
Illuminating our advance.

We do not like the things you do,
the threat you bring to our fast food,
the possibility you might
stand up against us when we're right.

You don't fit in with our beliefs,
You look like murderers and thieves.
We cannot trust the things you say.
We will not let you live your way.

And then, we need to pay you back
for that terrorist attack.
We’re well aware it wasn't you,
but it doesn't matter, you will do.

We've sold the world the fallacy
that you will take our Liberty,
threaten our whole society
in all its rich variety.

We're going to take your lives away,
change the way you have your say,
ostensibly to ease your toil,
with covert aims to own your oil.

And so we've come to change your lives,
annihilate your kids and wives.
We tell the world we're in the right
but all we want to do is fight.

In This Hour by Carey Lenehan

In this hour
Categorized immigrants plod, hands filled with hope
in two directions, with one expression
Muted by dispossession and unsure
whether they will emerge
on the side of freedom, or despair.

In this hour
Low flying stockbrokers fall into ruin whilst
corrupt investment bankers
massage their payoffs
from the decks of superyachts
and fondle shiftless supermodels on crack

In this hour
Copper leaves drift relentlessly from autumn trees
falling with the grey children, exhausted by Darfur,
tiny amps of current dispersing, lighting out, switching over,
abandoning the world of light
for a place on the forest floor.

In this hour,
presidential overtones speak in tongues
tangling sanity to a nest of snakes so profound
that madness always reigns
whilst the flooded and dispossessed share only one word.
Survival
No translator necessary

In this hour
hearts begin to beat, icecaps break apart
and species cease relentlessly
as office wall clocks mark time with
the tapping of keys
and nothing changes

In this hour
All will be well, and all will be hell
and all manner of things will stay the same
in this hour

Ancestors by Carey Lenehan

Carry me on your sloping shoulders
And I will try to grip on with my toes
My arms around your neck, crouched here, clinging
Leap with me from branch to hanging branch
As I swing and dangle, almost letting go
But not

Hold me in your loving arms
Clean the dirt from my eyes and ears
Wash the mud from my hands and feet
And the mites from my tummy
Hold and love me as your child, as your
Liquid eyed embodiment of self
As you

Play with me in the long grasses
Roll me on the ground and fling me
High into the air, catching me with long fingers
And confident hands grabbing me safely
As I bounce, as I tumble, never falling hard
With you

Save me as the bulldozers roar
Ripping at the trees that home us
Pulling at the roots that bind us to the ground
Scream for me, grab for me, I am falling
Through the dark branches, loose from you
Lost from you, into darkness, into nowhere
Gone Now