This Is Bliss
Where ignorance is bliss
‘tis foolish to be wise,
thus shrewdly will those weak and bad in
faith avert their eyes.
For ignorance is this
‘tis cowardice in guise,
those daring not see or hear in
fear of what may rise.
Where ravers on the piss
come pumped with compound highs,
these cloud the sense of single self in
search of clearer lives.
So takers still will miss
the sound of echoed strives,
entranced instead by booms ahead in
tune to party lines.
Where gods connive and hiss
from mounts amongst the skies,
there shooting rays on common prey in
closed surveillance spies.
Whilst herds cry out and wish
for hallowed goals and tries,
their stars agleam on giant screens in
stalled within their sties.
Where crispy boneless bits
come dished in supersize,
to capture greed at breakneck speed in
spite of squealing cries.
Or cheddar à la Swiss
conserved in vaults of lies,
then curd again by privy men in
spotless suits and ties.
Where ignorance is bliss
‘tis prudent to be wise,
so brave the leap of faithless feat and
liberate your eyes.
For ignorance is this
‘tis wisdom in disguise,
our latent right to void the night and
build unto dayrise.