Expiration Date.

Fell the parasite with
prejudice,
Lop the heads sputtering
gibberish tactics keeping
the spirit chained,
Drained of all worth, drown
in artificiality as it all
tumbles down,

Fuck the clown preaching
'recovery' on every sponsored
podium,
Low sodium to keep the crowd
compliant, reliant on
conceptually blended ideals,
Stamped with trademarks of
sponsors and heels,

Fear mongering in death throws,
the last gasp is near,
Nervous twitches as they throw
the switches attempting to
revive the dying lie,
Shoved down the masses throat,
kick the dog one more time, oh
they try, do they try,

Let it sink, let it die, let it
be,
Bank on collapse so every last soul
can finally be free,
Built on failure, perpetual consumption,
consuming everything until itself is
consumed,
The system is late, proof that everything
has an expiration date...
-END-
D.C. Chapman
6/29/2011

Walls.

Alone at home, silence pronounces
the wound,
Drown out by music, loud and
angry to keep these
feelings at bay,

Distant echoes hold the head
under seige,
bombarding the barrier seeking
a crack for silence to seep
through,
One may be lonely, but sometimes
so is two,

It was all a dream, reality
bites,
but the soul fights and screams
for the return of
the dream,
More time asleep, permanent
sleep,
So deep as to never touch
silence again,

Yet here it remains,
barriers, restraints, to
keep the demon of silence
at bay,
to keep that sinking crippling
feeling away...
-END-
D.C. Chapman
6/22/2011

Head Case.

Tell me why, answer the question, wrong fucking question, so much for keeping it straight,
At any rate, what is the deal? I don't know, everything's spinning in the wake but the beast needs to breath or it will surely bleed,
Can't stop it anyway, the cage is broken, threw the fucking key away.

Rampage romper stomber all over my own soul, fuck it all, who cares? what the fuck ever any which way?
Lost cause as it rages on, but the question begs, answer the fucking question, tell me why?
Who the fuck are you? I don't know just who the fuck I am, a lamb with broken legs left to slaughter before that other inner thing?

Destination to ransack myself, but no self can be found, can it? Who cares anyway? What the fuck ever any which way,
Damn the man that thought he could, did you ever stop to think if you even should? Tell me why, answer the question, just answer your own fucking question,
Claw to nerve, nervously shaken, bone to bone, grinding sharp etching deep burning, yearning for something, but what?

Your will is not your own, thy will be done in my own damn way, but the question begs, just answer the damn question,
Why? Fucking why? Why the fuck not?
-END-
D.C. Chapman
6/22/2011

Dichotomy.

Haste to escape the
seeming mundane ashes of
a life no longer recognizable
as such,
So much for that iron face with
steel veins, shattered like glass
and tossed in the trash housing
guts of the rotting and
rancid remains of that thing that
once was,
Stabbing dull and rusty twisted
deep within,
Reminders, constant reminders,
so who was this again?

Deep refrane, the hole is
bigger than you thought,
So much for naught, wasted
in between, the suffering unseen
beneath the smiling guise,
Bound beneath a seeming clown
as the punchline of it all,
Is this the real one? Is this
that forgotten one?
Maybe in your minds' eye, the one
holding the gun, shaken, itching
to blast it all away,
Severing night from day, or so
you constantly pray...
-END-
D.C. Chapman
6/22/2011