"And the daughter of Zion is left as a cottage in a vineyard, as a lodge in a garden of cucumbers, as a besieged city." – Isaiah 1:8
Conditioned there to stare
Conditioned to the light
Conditioned not to care
Conditioned not to fight
Conditioned where to hide
Conditioned to take flight
Conditioned to play dead
Conditioned in their site
Conditioned so it seams
Conditioned in your mind
Conditioned to extremes
Conditioned till you’re blind
Conditioned by folklore
Conditioned into ease
Conditioned into war
Conditioned rest in peace
Collar the foe.
Compel his submission.
Current the flow.
Still his position.
Wire him and tire him
With water and biscuits*,
Special rendition,
Torture explicit.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Behavioral_Science_Consultation_Team
Funnel perception
Craft agitation
Limit direction
Shake every station
Baiting the races
Sifting religions
Securing the spaces
Fixing divisions
Collectivism’s connoisseurs
Vaccinated by degree
Immunized provocateurs
Allergic now to liberty
Fictions are becoming real,
Realities fantastic.
Mr. Smith’s they come and go,
Within each spirit plastic.
Collectively they neutralize
Each other hand in hand,
Tyranny’s majority,
De Tocqueville’s reprimand.
Playing out your role,
Seeking transformation,
Sharing your control,
Surfing every station.
Actions of the group
Coming to consensus,
Morality in troops
Pleasing to our senses.
The cast, the mob is wired,
Armed with their pretenses.
Compromise desired,
Breaking down defenses,
Reality’s retired
As the play’s repeated,
Collectively, for all,
Everyone’s mistreated,
Corporate spirit guides
Facilitate the play
Steer the compromise
Little day by day.
Those anonymous,
Far away, conflicted,
Leave what’s real behind.
Hopelessly addicted.
If honesty be your retreat,
Unheard will go your say.
Hyperbole is their repeat.
Truth’s bottled up this way.
Pillars and clouds,
Ancient of Days,
Lies for the crowds,
Truth set ablaze.
Trickery’s fits,
Never stay pinned,
Man’s counterfeits,
Can’t cover sin.
Deep in our souls,
God’s fire and smoke,
Filling our holes,
Until we’re awoke.
Best ignore old building seven
Dust the others into piles,
Parts of people gone to heaven,
Hose from streets and domiciles.
Independent science folks,
Spotting iron within the clay,
Take away their microscopes,
Out of hand dismiss their say.
Frozen in the toxic blur,
Tiny elemental spheres,
Crazies they agree to spur,
Ending early their careers.
Airways clogged instilled the rush,
Buried there and caked with ash,
Traumatized we squint and hush,
Blind to where the truth they cache.
Larry’s ever clever,
Larry he’s a bandit.
Cranking with his lever,
Larry truth he cans it.
Flaming his endeavor,
Conspiracy he fans it,
Insured against attacks,
Double he demands it.
Ricocheted his word,
Larry’s magic bullet,
Shaken but not stirred,
Larry said “Just pull it”.
Cucumber Lodge 