Pictures From My Planet

I. Any Regime

Some people believe
That the wildness
Of this body
Should be tamed
That a fascist regime
Should be the consequence
Of years of rebellion

Others believe
That we can achieve
Sanity through democracy
It’s the only way
They say
There is no other
They cry

And the former reply
But it’s insanity
That way lies anarchy
It’s Ungodly, defying
That Great Chain of Being
Established long ago

They believe
That we should embark
On Five Year Plans
On work programmes
Fuck the poor
Let’s go to war

II. The Civil War Inside

As I evade oppressive inner greyness
I catch the eye of the shrink
The emotional police
The most powerful in the land
The most respected profession
In the kingdom. In all their guises
Jungians, Freudians, Adlerians
They have become our Gods
Therapy is the new religion
Something to worship
In a secular society
Day after day, week after week
month after month, year after year

They are the manufacturers
They are the technicians
In this Industry of Emotions
Fixing the plumbing of our minds
At every nut house we gather
To pay homage to
The pharmaceutical industry
Dope me up, we beg
Life’s nicer that way
We are rendered docile
Popping pills every day
Pills to sleep, pills to wake
Pills to work, pills to play

Blue pills, green pills, pink pills
And plain old white pills
Pills the shape of zeppelins
They course through our blood streams
Like armies on the march
They build empires within us
Exploding deep inside
Establishing totalitarian states
And we ask ourselves
Where has all that time gone?
Our pills have commandeered it
Wrested it from our control

It is time for a coup
Thinking and medication
Are incompatible
They engage in a civil war
Inside us – a bitter, bloody battle
Our thoughts are valiant
Like Polish Partisans
Brave as Kamikaze pilots
They must win
For the alternative
Is a ravaged land

III Miniature Kingdom

In bed
Beneath the quilt
Staring at the ceiling
Palms facing upwards
Head empty of thoughts
The TV flickers in the
Corner of the room
Portraying death,
destruction, doom

But none of this touches me
The wider world is an irrelevance
Something way beyond me
I have recreated the world within
An empire flanked by four walls
The front door is the border
The cat is the border guard
Armed with unsheathed claws
It is mine. Unmistakably
An echo of my identity

I wonder of anything
Really exists outside
This darkened room
And I wonder if others exist
Sometimes it seems
As though I am the only one
Inhabiting this multicoloured ball
As it floats across the universe
My own personal spaceship

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