Saturday, November 30, 2013

I listen to my heart and I listen to my soul,
I don't know who you are, or why you want control,
My mind that is, my psyche and being too,
Why would the thought of me giving my body to you,
Cross your mind, however strange it may be,
Someday, you may come to the brilliant realization,
That not all desire to be as you, be they across the nation,
To put you in your place, and to give you some perspective,
Is essential, just as your system, digestive,
Be that a poor rhyme, or acknowledge my faults should I,
Like I've said, I don't know who ye be, or why you a piece of this pie,
So desire,
As if I were to inquire,
Shall we then begin to converse,
And to traverse throughout the universe,
Arguing and battling with words,
Until our minds and consciousness become blurs,
During this recording of this epic tale,
I imagine a boy reading this as a snail,
A reading assignment, surely by a cruel and twisted teacher,
Why, oh why does this boy invariably say, "Sure"?,
And retort and respond,
Unknowingly until one spawned,
Be it long,
Or be he strong,
This boy is a product of futuristic society,
A place I cannot comprehend, for the sense of anxiety,
That persists,
And exists,
Thoroughly and spontaneously,
Yet unchangingly,
Through every crack and every whack,
Disciplinarianism makes its come back,
This boy, forcibly forced into a laborious labor,
Sadly, there be no mayor,
But merely Big Brother,
The sightful other,
Of whom we do not know,
We have never known,
And may never,
As if that was to sever,
The past from what we know know as the future,
This is a bruise to recorded history,
A gap in our timeline, renders it now a great mystery,
Big Brother prevents us from private communication,
Throughout his nation,
To be bottled up for all of eternity,
Until humans may reach great Mercury.
Be that a time long from now,
Be it then, or be it thou.

Written 9.24.09

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