Know That I Too
We are never alone (a poem for mental health month)
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Dust Choked Sooth

Dust Choked Sooth

A Poem by Christopher Michael Smith

Painted in the new romance tongue of English dialogue.
I script a celestial church with majestic poetic word.
Calling forth the divine for guidance resting in the mind.
Trancing into another astral dimension.
The phalanges flow with the texture of this prison.
Escaping materialistic persuasions.
Observing prideful beings celebrating monetary equations.

So tiny in time.
So elaborate in mine.
Panic to endorse a lie.
Just a flake suspended.
Just a dance unended.
Capturing chaos in the blink of an eye.

A spec of dust floating in a ocean of empty space
Breathing in the darkness as empathy is fading to waste
So minute,
So small,
Global intoxications inciting violence to eliminate all.

Weak in the pressures of understanding the points of the lessons.
Demanding the answers with propaganda asking the questions.
Keeping the calm by distorting the purity of this picture.
A world enslaved to serve the richer of the mixture.
Keeping quiet with the illusion of choice.
Raping mentalities with the laws of a patriotic voice.

A gap in stance
Crusades trying to advance
Denying that the worship of wealth blinds
Ignoring the pulse
Throwing the insults
Karma recording the vital signs

Everyone alone in their personal regrets they have sown
Indifference silencing humanity with abysmal persuasive whispers
Not tending to the rights we as humans have to change what's wrong before our eyes
Glorifying prosthetic philosophies with chants and foreign atrocities
The battle armed & confused by the hostility it charmed & abused
Claiming the fight justified & giving a name to this ultimate cultural suicide.

Taunting pheasants in a land of sand.
Striping societies of the equality of man.
A distinct line of hypocrisy written upon the shoulders of the occupancy.
Soldiers, invaders, the beasts of greedy favors.
The taker of desires distributing constant warning fliers.
This plan has been in motion since the beginning of time.
The universe is displaying concern.
Delusional masses enjoying the burn.
The foundation of ancient thoughts painted black.
Restructuring the essence of why we think and fight back.

With every letter residing upon the foot.
Sentences erecting the walls to the roof.
The temple flirting with the stars and the moon.
And as we human beings float in the blindness of this overpopulated planet
Self inflicting the deaths with prejudices that never rest its weary eyes.
Scarring our earthly home while creating the pattern for a deathly roll call.
God damn it, people open your eyes.

Our time misused,
Our time abused,
Our time erased.
The death in the air....

Gander at the offerings served at this door.
Drink of these syllables and thirst no more.
Stuff the mind with the words of the poor.
Enlighten thyself to question what for.
All in all it must be said.
The warnings are grandeur in front of our heads.
Big letters drenched in chromosomal red.
Mirages of a heavenly earth just a dream someone had.
The smoke rises a cloud so dense it consumes.
Elaborate pages presented to judge these peers with carbonized fumes.
Take a glance at our present stance filled with pure dread.
We are all standing before a future that is already dead.

© 2010 Christopher Michael Smith


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Added on May 31, 2010
Last Updated on May 31, 2010

Author

Christopher Michael Smith
Christopher Michael Smith

Clinton, NC



About
Ego sum qui sum - 'I am what I am' Poetry is my creative expression here upon this floating ball of dust called Earth. Nothing feels as appeasing as watching a pen glide across a virgin page, watc.. more..

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