POETRY IN MOTION - CHEEBA'S POETIC CONTRIBUTION TO LIFE
Written by Rune Leknes (c) 2000-2002
Cheeba Design
runeleknes@hotmail.com
2 of my poems have been published
in 2 great books of independent poets around the world
The Still Horizon & The Fabric Of A Vision
Click Here To Order
I recommend them strongly!!!
updated
July 15, 2002
My latest poem "A Silent Blubber
In My Igloo" inspired by my own electronic music piece with the same name
will be published in
The Golden Wings, an anthology of world poetry.
you can hear the song at www.cheebadesign.com/djcheeba
A SILENT BLUBBER IN MY IGLOO
life is better when the lines are busy
those signals that you once had
flowing through your inner self
keeping it together as they stream
floating between the walls of denial
the distance you will get
above the thin air of illusions you craved
those signs of desperate needs
underneath the shell of emotional debth
you ride the distance without hearing the call
then life will be better as silence creeps in
FAKE PLASTIC SONG
Mass produce females lined up for a song
Looking sexy and pretty in their small thong
Perfect girls and boys are dancing on MTV
Not a ugly person as far as the eye can see
This is just another day in the world of creative
destruction my friend
In the name of money and fame we kill
the art of music untill the end
Easy and accesible is how it must sound
Predictable and boring beats all around
Being beautiful is the only thing you have to be
Be able to write and sing is not the main priority
This is just another day in the world of
creative destruction my friend
In the name of money and fame we kill
the art of music untill the end
Manipulating teenage heads with music junk
Ripping off the real artists from Rock to Funk
Justifying the product of a money making machine
They don't even have a clue what creativity mean
This is just another day in the world of
creative destruction my friend
In the name of money and fame we kill
the art of music untill the end
The music will soon dissapear and so will
the fan
They know they are just another flash in the pan
But just when you thought it was dead and forgotten
another creation comes along sounding
just as rotten
This is just another day in the world of
creative destruction my friend
In the name of money and fame we kill
the art of music untill the end
TURN THE DARK OFF
I'm digging a grave on the cemetary of love
I'm digging a grave for the pain inside me
My broken shovel is so heavy to hold
The ground is so hard to break through
I'm digging in the dirt with tears in my eyes
I can't take these painful emotions anymore
Why can't i bury you, I just can't go any deeper
Please take me home the Grim Reaper!
THE WALL
Waking up to the scream of a futuristic
dream
Heavy breathing and in my eye a lightning beam
Sitting up trying to wipe off the sweat in my hand
I think to myself that i must be in the wrong band
Standing up finding myself still looking at the wall
I thought i had climbed it yesterday in the dreamers hall
It wasn't so high when i went into the universe of peace
Last night i was almost over it using the branches of my trees
Something doesn't feel quit right i
can't feel the spark
I'm standing infront of this wall staring into the dark
I'm searching for something i don't know what to find
I just have to use something special to occupie my mind
I can take my pen & paper and write to my mind goes sane
Maybe the truth in the ink will help me go over the wall again
THE MASK
Look at me in this wide open space
Leaving you happy with a smile on your face
Look at me and how i make your trouble dissapear
Leaving you behind with cheerful laughter in your ear
Look at me when i take away all your sorrow
Leaving you wanting my funny act to borrow
Look at me when i'm sitting here alone crying
Leaving you a mask because inside i am dying
Look at me really hard and you will see my place
I'm standing alone in this wide open space
ALL THESE YEARS WASTED?
I'm sitting in my basement waiting for the
posse to call
I'm dressed up nicely like i was going to a ball
Can's of oblivion are stacked in the buzzing fridge
The posse arrives as mighty as the Golden Gate Bridge
Electronic devices are pumping out organised noise
The posse begin to speak in a louder voice
Can's of oblivion dissapear into the night
Leaving the buzzing fridge with nothing more than a light
Like a wild herd we walk towards the blue oasis
Saying stupid things to beautiful flowers and faces
The moon shines as we walk to our awaiting sleep
Waking up the next day feeling like a creep
Looking at myself in the mirror as i try to forget it all
The wild escapades the night before i can't quit recall
With a bad feeling in my stomach and a hammering head
I say to myself...Ohh shoot me...i wish i was dead!
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