General Oranges

Original Oil Painting on Belgian Linen


By Helen Norton

90 x 120 cm

1999 Second Test

The expulsion of General Oranges. Lotsa grails.  The judgment is served upon the judgers when their hypnotising grails are revealed to be no more than boxes of overstated symbols as abundant as oranges.  Just a trick like a dogs bluff.  Powerful only because they said they were.  Here they are sent to their own maker and expelled from rule, their grail's spilled all over the place, cheap and common. The men in white oversee the event as the lambs celebrate with big red “gas” balloons!

The pillars of society and balance stand solidly in place, not up for judgment.


 And the great leaders known

Were plucked off

 And into the rivers thrown

From ones amongst the locals

Came older seasoned wisdom

Valued common sense vocal

To drown the system restriction


The poor dumb lambs

Angry at what they saw

Their lives illusion was a sham

Wanted to have another war

But the wars were part of the trick

The emotional trigger

They were brainwashed to think would fix

But resulted in pain and suffering bigger


It took along time to show

The bleating flock

The boat was theirs to row

Their secure faith was beaten and in shock

They waited on their knees for the end to come

They fell asleep staring at the distance

They dreamed a fitful dream at the setting of the sun

A dream filled with primal fear and the end of a dance

And who more surprised than they

When their eyes opened once again

To live another day


The dawn was new and alive

But still really the same

The new day offered them more than survive

Not a place to be if you wished to remain emotionally lame


The towers crumbled the anger soared

The flock realized the worship

Had been to individual power hoarded

Turned into strangling, choking grip

Upon the people

Blind as they marched

Hypnotized by cross and golden steeple

Their own inner soul completely surpassed

The missed the point clear

Of the unquestioned power invisible they were rationed

They were indeed trapped by their own fear


Were they to harness the same passion

To see their way to responsibility

They would have found the key

Of the sleeping greatness

That on the final day rests with you and me


Humble was a word of control

To batter potential single greatness

Of the rights of the evolving soul

Creating confusion and leaving inspiration a mess


Get down on your knees and pray

Was evidence afore ye’

Of the tactic of control that day

Integrity is still possible to see

By standing firmly and accepting responsibility


So look more closely in your yard and mile

For the white turned to gold

Sits just below the surface in the pile

Of discarded hopes and inspirations bold

It is there within your reach

All the gods you will ever need

All the tools for us to teach

The forthcoming progeny of your fertile seed


The long sought after reign of peace

Sits in the throne on your own land

Loving the self is no longer a beast

The answer rests in your very own hand.

Norton ‘99