I have always liked Simon Cowell
I remember Saturday evening's, Pop Idol on TV
My mum making critical but funny comments
At the “talent” paraded on TV
Finally she had met her match
In sky high waistband
And hairy chest
As I watched yesterday
Heard his words rip through souls
And dream
My ears pricked up at one sentence:
“You guys are over-rehearsed and insincere”
Five coffee-skinned
buff guys, with matching t-shirt
Slick Usher moves
Sweet harmony of voices
When asked how to spend $5million
Talked of helping community
Buying diapers for new baby
Yet shot down.
Even Simon Cowell
Million dollar mogul
With mansions galore
dates flawlessly dressed females
surrounded by musical artists
and the fickle nature of the recording industry
hates the fake.
“You’re not cold, you’re not hot – far better to be either cold or hot! You’re stale. You’re stagnant. You make me want to vomit. You brag, ‘I’m rich, I’ve got it made, I need nothing from anyone,’ oblivious that in fact you’re pitiful, blind beggar, threadbare and homeless.”
The dishonesty of the human heart
Can still be seen
On a stage
This world cries out
Pained scream
As she labours to birth
the authentic
The real
The truth
Who are we meant to be?
Not an imitation
Nor interpretation
But the true manifestation
of our inner self
and who it desires to be
truth
the truth of who you are
will set you free
for in that freedom
you can truly live
that is the John 10:10 life
to the full, to overflowing
fully who we are
fully who we were created to be
fake skunks the room
bellies doubled over
retching in the aisle
as it walks past
some are lulled in
bought into the lie
but only temporarily
knock off Guchi’s are noticed
in fair time
Flawless divas
pass the dutch
and walk the halls
envy turns to disdain
then back to pity
you see them for what they are
cold shiny plastic.
