oh for the language spoken in contradictions,
above the curse of silence bleeding into sound.
where these contradictions meet each other,
offering solace as plans to avoid escape.
they don't even bother to cast shadows,
for no light had pledged allegiance
to either of their causes.
they could have cast themselves as mindfill
and its ever-shifting accomplices.
but no, as in know
as if, one sarcastic sentence is chasing the previous one,
down a hallway steeped in silence's construction,
where everyone thought listening would seek resolve,
yet space occupancy, as if notice defines,
was not ever going to halt this as ongoing.
what is a conscious mind without words flailing?
and who is there to notice if any differences appear?
if I could take one say out for a walk,
away from the frenetic output ongoing,
to just hold hands with that say,
until a calmer context intervenes.
like the logic of a listener is finally revealed,
as if say had any need for audience approval to continue.
victimhood is in the ears of a listener,
who claims receivership as if comprehension.
all the words spoken just get in the way.
if you thought of it, all of this as a song,
and you dismiss the efforts of words as lyrics,
then the feel could come through,
as the inner fight dealing with the restraint of the mind,
in its attempts that expression could ever resolve.
but no, fitful finding vocalization as spoken
is a hoax as a form of release.
sure there is fanfare and vitriol,
cursing in the shaping of words,
using sounding-off as a delivery system.
but masochism of the mouth
is just verbal whiplash revisited.
it was bad enough
as the delirium of thought realized,
but to launch, as if self-listening
and expect that to reveal and identify?
it all became exhaust,
but was no power to the engine at work.
this used to appear as a form of obvious insanity.
but now, by appearance,
it's just another person passing,
vehemently upset,
and talking, hands-free,
on their cell phone.
so what will we think of next? . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment