These Wars of Freedom is a poem that is in my next novel, TWO BEAUTIES AND A NERD, which I plan to launch next on www.RayandaArts.com. As part of the launch, I will be offering a cash prize or an original painting to the person who does up the best video of the poem. Best is a relative term, and by it I mean the video that I think best fits the content of the poem. Currently, however, I'm accepting expressions of interest only.
These weapons in our jeans seduce us into wars we passionately embrace with ferocious ardour. With the maker's approval branded on our butts and health care making all the right cuts we never fail to create every damn thing we swear to God we hate. They're irresistible, dirty, burgeoning with sin, mass-produced free copies of God's real things simply divine, like hell, they're too easy to sell to all good girls and boys lusting after each other's toys. There aren't enough kicks for our daily fix so shoot a load quick, gimme more, I said, “More!” babe, and get on with the war. We're free to kill, and we're free to die, death is the only way to get by these wars of freedom. It's the same old story, one person's defeat is another one's glory. The quarrels come and the morals go, yet we never let our true feelings show. Our reasons are fake, but winning's at stake. We're determined to die for the right lie till there's no one left to lose. We're free to choose these wars of freedom. We're too damned right to do anything but fight. Screw the love we miss, oh baby, come, come let's kiss the kids good-night turn out the light one hundred thousand missiles will do no, better make that two, proud to raise casualties in battles we force them to win. While they fight our demons for us-- what could be more glorious? we strike out in the dark not knowing what sparked these wars of freedom. Terror is the new frontier, kill, kill, kill it with fear that respects no boundaries even of obscenely armed countries. The only time we'll cry is when the war dies. We can't stand the thought of that any more 'cause we can't claim our victory without the war. Soldiers wearing the emperor's clothes have nothing to lose, they know with dead certainty as they clash with protesters who see in a flash there's no march forward or giving in when truth only defeats us when we win. Blast it all to kingdom come anything to escape in fun Right? Right! Right into the bomb-lit night where there's nowhere to hide especially not deep inside from these wars of freedom.