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PAGE THREE
                     Inside the machine

           Puppets on strings of mind control are we
               the masters games...many and complex,

               To question is to admit failure to comprehend,

               To answer is to show an attitude of knowledge
               where none exists,

               Yet forever we have the feeling that all is not
               what it seems,

               Dreams and reality merge into a fantasm
               of interruptions to the 'plan'
               then again we are placed back with an abrupt
               awakening...when almost within the grasp of
               knowing,

              Turning us away from our endless quest,

              Our minds forced to accept the puppeteers
               instructions again,

              Many turn to higher realms for the 'truth'
              yet 'truth' not unlike the setting of the sun
              eludes any placement in time and space,

              Then again....reinforcement comes in the form
              of an answered question,

              The knowing seems to be as it should
              and the brain is reassured that all is as it should be,

              The great complexity of the machine is again
              hidden from view,

             We go our way...placated...saturated with the opiates
             of the senses,

             Dulled into falsely contrived happiness,

             This being the ultimate conquest of power control
             exercised by the masters of the game
                                ...inside the machine...

                                                                                            

                                                                                             ray
              Magik Feather Poetry