Whatever happened to
Common courtesy of
Man to fellow man,
People wonder as stars
Fall from the sky, surround their world
With craters, cement their
Lungs with poison plaster
Pens in their hands and
Blood on their souls
They wonder, wander,
Questioning the world of me and you
With simple cliché quotes:
What is love? what is trust?
The meaning of life, the decision
Of the pentacle of human understanding,
Teasing and trying your patience
As you push the need through the tiny yarns
That manage your brain.
A thread tears--
What happens then?
Keep pushing and the tapestry sighs,
The safe neglected, homely,
And all I can say is
If you think you as a man
Stand above the intelligence
Of a black or a glock,
Or an earthquake, a flood
Of salty water 300 times
More than you'll ever
Hope to swim across,
You've gotta lotta nerve, man.
Nah. No nerve.
All torn up
From thinking too much
And knowing too little
And wanting to be spectacularly,
Prodigiously..."Prodigal:
A word invented by man, injected with
An undeniable sense of importance,"
And honor (which, by the way,
Is also a figment of human imagination).
Best you guard your throat,
'Cause when the rawest art
Of precious Words is denied its praise
As a perfect product of God Himself,
The world rejects the caster,
Lopping off his head in the strangest of ways--
In silence, God-inficted silence,
Burning holes in your heart
Which bears a crest of broken wings
And quiet, sleeping,
Scream-dream death.
Deny the words,
And who can save you?
Who is there to tell you
The meaning of love, life,
Liberty, glowing philanthropy,
Anemyty, destiny?
Because once you lose your tongue,
You lose your voice,
And what good is a soundless record
In this cold, loud party
Called life? |
Submission Name: Human Understanding?
