Poster Girls
I am all for finding true love,
yet when we dress predators to disguise them as prey,
should we be surprised that it gets easy to be lured away by things that don't matter?
(Or those that don't care?)
Not only that but attraction gets diluted
in all the polluted neural pathways
distraction seems most suited by how the moon, off of the ocean, plays
In a reflection, can you see true beauty? Look closer.
(Is it returning your gaze?)
I want to find true love, but yet I can hardly stop staring,
when through a store window,
I see the erect nipples of a mannequin saying "hello!"
Some surprising compromise between a familiar friend and a strange saviour.
The store display entices, but I pass on as routine behaviour.
Cash is ass, or so we're taught, taught to buy and breed.
We starve because we can't eat bills, soul saturated in greed.
My imagination is all I have, my concentration breaks.
If there is no real girl for me there's only so much I can take.
(So)
I have a momentary arousing distraction in the pinstripe of the mannequin's pert form.
But it is nothing special.
Because we've replicated the female figure and mass produced it in plaster!
It's now the norm.
Our tough job is to distinguish reality and make genuine decisions based on it.
But beauty's diagrams are severed and scattered all over the sex-crazed streets on posters of teens posed in sheets.
(Somehow I feel cheated)
Is that how I have trouble finding one real live woman's body to hold throughout the night?
All these ads, telling me how to act.
I am stalked by a cold, two dimensional army of pornstars.
©Copyright SirBarrett 2008
Poetry
yet when we dress predators to disguise them as prey,
should we be surprised that it gets easy to be lured away by things that don't matter?
(Or those that don't care?)
Not only that but attraction gets diluted
in all the polluted neural pathways
distraction seems most suited by how the moon, off of the ocean, plays
In a reflection, can you see true beauty? Look closer.
(Is it returning your gaze?)
I want to find true love, but yet I can hardly stop staring,
when through a store window,
I see the erect nipples of a mannequin saying "hello!"
Some surprising compromise between a familiar friend and a strange saviour.
The store display entices, but I pass on as routine behaviour.
Cash is ass, or so we're taught, taught to buy and breed.
We starve because we can't eat bills, soul saturated in greed.
My imagination is all I have, my concentration breaks.
If there is no real girl for me there's only so much I can take.
(So)
I have a momentary arousing distraction in the pinstripe of the mannequin's pert form.
But it is nothing special.
Because we've replicated the female figure and mass produced it in plaster!
It's now the norm.
Our tough job is to distinguish reality and make genuine decisions based on it.
But beauty's diagrams are severed and scattered all over the sex-crazed streets on posters of teens posed in sheets.
(Somehow I feel cheated)
Is that how I have trouble finding one real live woman's body to hold throughout the night?
All these ads, telling me how to act.
I am stalked by a cold, two dimensional army of pornstars.
©Copyright SirBarrett 2008
Poetry
posted by sirbarrett at 8:19 a.m.
6 Comments:
I just get my messages from Butchie. It makes my life easier than looking at trashy ads.
How original this is!
Why is this so complicated and why do we make it even more complicated by giving it such importance (and giving importance to less important things)? Yes, I realize I'm making it even MORE complicated with this silly comment ;)
wow. in my head though i have given up finding love. now i am lying in wait waiting for it to find me.
and the two dimensional army of pornstars can be quite relaxing. or so they say.
i agree with devil. original.
adorable girlfriend -Yes, Butchie has a way of filling my head with beautiful images (among other things).
devil mood and phish -Thanks! The image started out when I was actually strolling through the lonely streets by myself but then it turned into a whole anatomy of criticism about our culture in stream of consciousness/poetry. Maybe we make it more complicated than it is, but that's fun to do.
LOL. Butchie is adorable that way. He's good people and I am so happy he's a part of this little family.
This is seriously great, man. Really made me think and relate.
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