deepundergroundpoetry.com

Eavesdropping

   
   
She-'All of you men are the same..you think-feel-pee  
from the same thing. Losers.  
   
He-'Don't say like that..what makes you think so? Why our  
lives have to depend upon the Facebook status message of  
your so called celebrity friends?    
   
She-You know what...keep your pure love shit to yourself..  
and just leave me alone...
 
   
Click.  
 
Dead air.  
   
   
   
   
   
 
I have a dream  
as the clocks lapse and the moments
run thru in pained precision  
   
I feel no pain                      
cause I am an island-surrounded by
a sea of solitude or may be tears  
 
I feel no gain  
when you are around me  
strange economy or may be a stranger lie    

There is not much time
to clear the cobwebs  
and break the dusty frames to shards  
that reflect the yellow moon  
as it bleeds to saccharine saturation  
   
I can't be at two places  
I can’t track my prana  
I can't eavesdrop  
   
Look-My portal is gone  
Look-What this mortal has done  
   
I don't have much time  
my head is full of lead  
my mindscape crawls with dead  
   
ideas-memories-songs  
   
I was always mislead by the spokesperson  
who did not live long e n o u g h  
to refute the dogma that they were  
   
As I lie on the stretcher they lie to my face  
it's but in their nature so I try to smile  
 
But it's just my soul  
my lips don't move-too cold-comatose  
 
My head is full of lead  
(all the way to the exit wound)  
But I feel no pain  
as I fall from grace
 
I am a waste of space  
 
You stare at me in pity as the skies move  
sideways and the rain lashes out  
in strange curvatures-snarling
across my face-cutting thru my flesh creating  
 
craters-billabongs-crevasses  
   
My cells keep dying-tiny bubbles with  
frantic Kreb's cycle  
the little energy channels thru tunnels  
 
The-show-must-go-on  
 
The fishes are asphyxiated  
the floating pieces of broken glass    
capture the will of the wall  
 
and-you-extend-your-hand  
breathtaking in your luminescence  
The hand reaches my heart  
and the static echoes all around
 
   
It's-a-flat-line  
 
Show's over-dear audience-curtain call  
   
My head is full of lead  
and stale lies I got in heritage  
they are dead and the dead turn into  
d u s t as you are sucked into  
a supernova in an extended spur  
   
Blackout.
Written by Whitewand6
Published
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