Obsidian Eagle's Blasphemous Bazaar - author central, anti-poetry, indie author

Obsidian Eagle's

Blasphemous Bazaar


META-Poems For A New Millennium

<br>META-Poems For A New Millennium<br><br>

The Flagship of Anti-Poetry — est. 2010 (Author Central)





Radio Is The Enemy

Radio Is The Enemy


Although they may have once served a proper purpose
Presently, radio stations pander to popular tastes.
Singles are given airtime mainly to generate album sales.
Played ad nauseam at regularly timed intervals
An earworm can make its way into anybody's brain.

If music were a fruit, most listeners wouldn't reach the core.
They get stuck mulling over an alluring outer peel.
Not to mention abrasive ads that shout for our attention.
They've got it down pat to a covert science of coercion.
Flashy exteriors matched by nonexistent interiors.

Of course it'll have to do for critically impaired cubicle rats
Who waste their days away like lowliest ants in a colony.
What was good will be repeated indefinitely at all hours
Until it becomes like Beethoven's 9th in a Clockwork Orange.
What is awful shall receive the same treatment; no less!

Meanwhile, entire continents of choral gaiety go undiscovered.
Wonderful frequencies pipe up momentarily before drowning
Within the social milieu brought about via mean mediocrity.
Financial backing makes or breaks sound waves reaching ears.
Even "Indie" gets co-opted as a niche genre to generate profit.

Repeat: Radio Is The Enemy of Good Music!


Tresfulgus

Tresfulgus


Noun (tray-full-guhs):

Somewhere between crystal dimensions
There roams a perfect behemoth of a beast.
Its real name is actually more like the sound of
Something heavy being submerged underwater.
And although there are many of them around
They are all essentially the same creature.

Its massive gray body ripples with raw sinew
Scored by black stripes along curves on its length.
It has a handsome face that's either man or woman
Depending on how one looks at it; asexual genotype,
Inorganic phenotype that absorbs decaying dark matter
While baring imposing breasts against storming skies.

Resembling certain Mediterranean bull deities
These gloss the banks of oblivion's river
In a valley where atavist tongues resound for eternity
And childhood is recalled by us passing through.
But make no mistake, though awesome to behold
Tresfulgi are not as noble as we might want to think.

No indeed, it appears rather as if said hulks represent
The dominant features of conqueror cultures
Which divest lesser beings of right livelihood:
Thrusting themselves into the affairs of others
Taking lots to give little except death in return.
May you and yours be spared such happenstance!

<b>⚕</b>

~≈~
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