Words

A semi-political poem about not being heard above the roar of society.

Travel deep within a mind

A soul's asleep

a dream dreaming

two lovebirds once teetered on a precipice

but were knocked over by the precariousness of imagination

A child wept

the tears tearing the edges of morality

the tears in the edges letting in tears that fell like rain

A poem asked which way was up

and immediately common perception was changed

just to outfit the idea of endlessness

In the wicked dreamscape of immortality

one soul asked if the answer was to say

'we not me'

a cackle of selfishness split the monochromatic sky

and the thought was stolen by the winds of gluttony

only to settle later on a pile of so-called refuse

waiting for some sad soul to recycle the contents

for what it called the common good

Smoke from fires of word pollution filled the air with a stench

while affection and selflessness choked on the fumes

A loud noise suddenly broke the sickly-sweet silence

six point five billion ethereal heads turned

while thirteen billion eyes settled on the disturbance

One soul, brightly colored

opened its comically large mouth

and began to speak

Of course, these souls gathered around to listen

but so many were infant souls

and more were illiterate

some were single-minded

some just deaf

Some of these souls had different beliefs

and in the end

only a few souls standing there truly understood

the rest called these words blasphemy

Almost all of those six point five billion heads turned away

almost all of the thirteen billion eyes glazed over once again

to resume seeing their world as the stable and single-minded place they had been promised

because somewhere along the road

democracy had been redefined

 

and so it goes.

Author's Note

Do you agree or disagree? What would you change? How did the poem make you feel?

Reviews

[.]

it almost reads like the mad mutterings of the disenfranchised and lonely - only the disenfranchised are not so mad, nor so alone.
that's where the individual is lost in society. it's almost like an unconscious, backhanded conceit...

anyhoo - good work on this. some wry and some sad observations, corralled into a steam roller of a poem

[Mylifeinheartbeats]

Thank you for reading and reviewing this poem! Many people I know are confused at this poem and don't quite get it, but you seem to have captured the idea quite well. I'm glad it's something you found to be worth your time.