Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes. Bowie knows his shit.


Fly!Torn stockings, my toes are peeking.
Worn mockings, my fists are clenching.
Used to see in monochrome,
Technicolor’s the epitome.
They told me I should be more sensitive.
But my brain-waves are far too talkative.
They told me to stop my running.
But my feet are way too cunning.
They said I have to be a girl.
But I want so much to conquer the world.
They want me to watch my mouth.
But I’m not from way down south.
They told me I need to feel.
But I have full control of the wheel.
They told me to get off the cloud.
But I can’t hear, they’re way too loud.
They said that I’m in denial.
But lookie here, I’m smiling for miles.
They sneer and say that I’ll grow up.
But I’m the one mopping their throw-up.
They tell me that it’s just a phase.
But I won’t cater to their ways.
They say that I’m somewhat too rare.
But it’s not my fault that I don’t care.
They want me to erase my grin.
But fuck that, smiling’s not a sin.
They tell me to look good for the pics.
But that’s just not how I get my kicks.
They say that I’m way too objective.
But that is just my spin on perspective.
They want me to wear a dress.
But I’m not a damsel in distress.
They want me to stop the playing.
But what for, it’s not like I’m straying.
They want me to go by the book.
But I’m perfectly fine, stop giving me that look.
They said that I’ll never be happy.
But I’m laughing so stop being yappy.
They don’t want me to do the dance.
But that’s just cause I’ve seen their underpants.
They say that one day I’ll go under.
But that’s just cause I’ve stolen their thunder.
They want me to quit the sensation.
But they just haven’t felt the elation.
They want me to be more serious.
But shoot me, I’m just so curious.
They tell me I’m too rock and roll.
But that’s because they’ve lost their soul.
They say I’m too bohemian.
But it’s not like I’m a deviant.
They leer at me and start to stare.
But speak to me, they do not dare.
They said I’m far too stuck up.
But I say just shut the fuck up.

Bob Dylan sang it best.
Don’t let your soul rest.
You folk, don’t be a-mangin’.
For the times, they are a-changin’.


8 Responses to “Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes. Bowie knows his shit.”

  1. bellesbits Says:

    Any chance of you recording this? It would sound awesome! Let’s get some Jakarta spoken word going!

  2. cepy Says:

    Belle bit, you are back on the site. I think you are gone again to your home! I can help you still with lesson, please contact me, Cepy. I can show you so many beautiful thing in Indonesia. You have been already to Monas, yes, and to many other great monument place in Indonesia, but you know monument of ordinary man? Have you visit the place no bule women go yet?

  3. bellesbits Says:

    Cepy- I am curious- where exactly is the place that no bule woman has gone yet?

    And err… the monument of ordinary man? Please inform me what this is. Do you mean as opposed to Monas, Sukarno’s last…monument?

  4. Eddhie Says:

    Wow, this is more amazing than I ever imagined it. The world as (we), humanbeings are being push more around by our feelings. Even in game theory, that I much calculated in aritificial intelligence, eg… playing chicken… ref:, we never counted on our feelings in these all rif raf.

    Thus your poems is liberating and what I found novel about it is that I never thought of this issues put in poems can be this liberating than unspoken.

    Nicely done poems… can I use it?


  5. Eddhie Says:

    PS: I was talking about a saying
    after he tell me to stand on my left foot, then he told me to stand on my right foot and after that left again and right again” it feel like a joke.
    hope somebody synch with my mumbling :))

  6. anandaayu Says:

    yes, i would love to hear this recorded.

  7. Marmalade Says:

    Technochrome/Epitome? Really?

  8. Marmalade Says:

    Retracts claws and licks own genitalia.

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