The Fire Will Burn Your Laughter Away

The Fire Will Burn Your Laughter Away

By Nathan Payne | pablosmoglives | 19 Jan 2021


 

The Fire Will Burn Your Laughter Away

 

whatever you do,

whatever you say,

the fire will burn your laughter away

 

myriad lunatics,

legion of swine,

screaming at mountaintops

from gutters and crying,

writing your epitaph

in powder

and clay,

the fire will burn your laughter away

 

burn-unit bicycles,

powerless mice,

clamoring insects

constructing their pedestals,

rickety

statues,

rotten desires,

the deified appetite,

godless and gray,

the fire will burn your laughter away

 

insectile laughter,

snickering,

liquoring,

loaded and lame,

crawling through bedsheets,

furious,

weeping,

wasted on tasteless,

simpering,

sleeping

homunculus outcry,

wimps of the night,

babies in waiting,

hating their enemies

as much as themselves,

or more,

as they may—

the fire will burn your laughter away

 

try as you will,

and cry as you might,

your fighting with me

is a plea to be heard

by a hateful

and infinite

idiot bird

who mocks you and locks you

up in a cage

in which he himself

is dead

and imprisoned

 

shackled

and cackling

vultures and hags

picking at corpses

with blunt beaks

and rulebooks,

claws of disorder,

the organized fray—

the fire will burn your laughter away

 

bludgeoning puppies

and kittens

of joy

with page after page

of rules,

restrictions

received from on high,

postmodern decrees

for the people below them,

while somehow believing

themselves

too smart for religion,

and sitting

on podiums,

dictating freely,

rat smiles peeling,

bobblehead followers

decapitate,

kneeling,

and mindlessly feeling

their way to the front

of the herd,

ostensibly deadly,

too dumb to be heard,

like chickens and livestock,

worse,

in a way—

the fire will burn your laughter away

 

arrogant parrots

tear at their sleeves,

gnashing

and crashing

at parties of teeth,

broken and woodenly-gesturing

clarion marionettes,

puppet strings showing,

indiscreet trash,

afraid to admit

they want to be loved

for whom they never

have ever have

been,

or never would dare

to openly be:

 

                powerful,

                fearless,

                respected,

                and free—

 

which is why they’re hung up

on respect

and control,

demanding that which

they are too scared

to honestly earn,

burning with

furious,

intellectually incurious,

imperious impurity,

posing as pillars

of power and beauty,

the aggregate sum

of Solomon’s glory

and nature’s array—

 

the fire will burn your laughter away

 

the embers are glowing

with the luminous

fury

of 10,000 sunsets

on the endless horizon

of infinite judgment,

the conveyor belt burning,

the highway to hell,

where all self-righteous

backroads

and religious believings

eventually lead,

the dreary parade

of wannabe clones

chained to their

bones

loaning their hearts to their neighbors

to step on

and burn,

hating the world when the favor

isn’t returned,

turning to Satan,

who teaches them the pleasures of anger,

and fury,

of being accepted

into a gang,

of condemning yourself

and your brothers

to hang,

of laughing at others

for speaking outside

the orthodox

slang,

the power of hatred,

the pleasure of death

and superior

feelings,

of frying the wound,

and freezing the heart,

of cutting the conscience

with soft,

fluffy powder,

ersatz emotions,

until it loses its potency

and is no longer

pure

 

Fill your heart full of candy and beat it with sticks!

 

Is the mind truly a playground of infinite kicks?

 

Is the ego a diamond, without remorse?

 

Is my body an army to be conquered by force?

 

Is the burden of Heaven too much to bear?


How long shall I these wings of hellfire wear?

 

Shall I balance my scales with angels and worms?

 

This is my rifle, and these are my terms!

 

If angelic wrecking balls

fall from the sky,

 

I will cling to this idiot word ‘til I die~

 

My hands are my feet

my age is my youth~

 

I have all the answers,

though I mock at the truth

 

my brains a cathedral—

stoic,

in pain

 

my heart is a sepulchre flooded with rain

 

trained to react,

never to think,

 

I am what I am and you are what you drink

 

which is why I drink water

and pulverized

mud-leaf,

honeybee islands, golden

milk

distilled

from the coconut

sunset,

and the light

that is squeezed

from the purified fruit,

 

life everlasting,

infinite youth,

 

but if you decide

to fill up your goats

with

sharks and great

octopus,

aberrant power,

weakness

and pride,

 

if you construct walls

in your heart

to block out the light,

your dungeons

unswept,

calamity mice

and rats

will eat from your buckets

and sleep in your hats,

 

and the grin

stamped on your face

like a visa from hell

will melt

into lava,

and the formerly-coins

of your powerful feelings

will be reduced

to a slag heap,

a mountain of fire-sludge,

 

and the gates of your weeping

will be broken

and open,

swinging wide

on the hinges

like screaming hyenas

chained

to a death-post,

 

rust-iron

teeth

and poisonous

candy,

 

and what formerly

looked

like

imminent victory,

will reveal itself

as the total

defeat

it always has been,

 

and the scraping

and screaming

of skeletons

weeping

will be matched in terribleness

only

by the unbearable view

of your subjects in Heaven,

laughing

and dancing,

singing and smiling,

apparently happy,

and completely

unbothered

by the plume of smoke

rising

from the ridiculous

altar

of your own great

importance,

and the offense

you have taken

from others’ beliefs

and stupid opinions,

will melt in your burned,

peeling red

hand,

so much stolen

candy,

your mansion of

sand

 

and your heart will

collapse

under the infinite

weight

of your own great

regret,

and the hatred you

nurtured in life

will be turned

in on itself,

and there will be no end

to your sorrow

or fury,

 

watching forever

 

while imbeciles smile,

suckers go dancing,

and idiots play—

 

the fire will burn your laughter away

 

 

 

 

 

© Nathan Payne

January 2021


Nathan Payne
Nathan Payne

I am a songwriter and bandleader who travels the world in search of the golden ticket. http://www.pablosmoglives.com


pablosmoglives
pablosmoglives

Replacing my blog at http://pablosmoglives.wordpress.com

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