21st Century Soliloquy

numbers trace the signal
electric clues to the source
hints of reminiscence
a garish glimpse of remorse
an empty text of long life in the living
partially paused in plastic places
twisting fiction of memory
hollow names and backward faces

if you want the truth
i’m afraid of anything that could make me feel
my missing you
is just a way of looking for something out there real
but i have found a way around it
with scattered words and misplaced humility
the disconnect my only grounding
when all i know is my own fragility

the dust, electric in its transport
now claims new eyes unseen
blinking slow in patterns blurred
sterilized yet never really clean
a generation on the edge of ending
cynicism, a regulated response to fear
connections, one island to another
listen loudly to the static of one deafened ear

synchronize the angst and agony
smiling synonyms rushed to end for pictures’ sake
post another pastime on a pleading public
perchance they writhe under the winsome wake
so much for breathing
too many hands to hold within
a deft and a dashing
mistake, missing the very feel of skin

if you want the truth
i’m afraid of anything that could turn the tide
my leaving you
is just a way of running from the hope you held inside
i couldn’t find a way around it
with shattered hearts, declarations of futility
my deepest desire now dead here surrounding
when all i know is my own fragility

JUST ADD WATER

the hunger is a sword that cuts down the population
and tracks you like the government across a foreign nation
the GDP of industries that call themselves economies
are run by debts of innocence lost to separate parties
agendas formed from greed and fear
till politics just disappear
replaced by something a bit less poli, a bit more tactical
while the old ones tell you to be responsible, logical, and practical

and i used to think that not conforming was like secretly storming
a castle made of clay baked too long on a hot day
a code ready for cracking but reacting got us back to where we started
but that departed, so i thought revolution would be less like prostitution
selling our bodies to companies, consumers to the core
and i thought all of our ignorance would even out eventually
but what’s more, it seems that we’ve all gotta be attached to something actually
intended for the remaking, just shaking with fragility

we’re blinded, we’re blinded, my brother, we’ve all been blind-sided
caught off-guard by those we trusted to protect what we could never know
we’re gifted, been enlisted in a program to deny it, though
an institution that has skated by for long enough to satisfy a temporary rush
all the time ignoring that there’s a big, big picture, and we’re all just playin’ paints
with a very tiny brush

so cast aside the anarchy which still plays by the rules
of societies built on so many self-centered schools
of thoughts that are not so much progress as progression
in a desperate search for happiness that leads straight to depression
and obsession with the madness of the me, me, me
as i hear an international chorus that can only ever agree
that as long as imaginary boundaries still separate us all
then is it alright to stumble as we wait for it to fall

cast it all aside like a temporary squall
a wave or two will crash but the game is made of walls
you can scale them if you wanna but the outcome is the same
it’s at the center of our souls and it knows all of our names