We are trekking through a forest of graves unfazed, for we are pathologically raised to fight wars for words, placing our faith in tradition while forgetting the original vision –

– placing our faith in tradition as if rituals alone were religion –

– unaware that we rest in a corporate created state of insatiability, we go on imagining ourselves as authentic, authentically oblivious to the fact that this thought represents dollars spent to devour our individuality –

– well-fed lies dining on well-fed pride, breaking our backs with their well-placed wine, as we get lost in the thought of “I” and “mine,” as we get lost in the word instead of the divine.

 

 

Painting our illusions in 108 words a day.

7 Comments

  1. I was particularly struck by “well-fed lies dining on well-fed pride, breaking our backs with their well-placed wine.” My first reaction was that you must have heard the news report about the latest re-election campaign speech … in West Virginia… that I just heard but knew that wasn’t possible and that examples of what you talked about in this post are endless. Well done.

    Like

    1. Funny thing is that because I’m trying to write everyday and need somewhere to start each day, I’ve been going back and looking at some of my stream of conscious poems, a lot of which don’t make sense to me anymore, and I’ll just take one or two lines that I like from them and create something totally new. So that line that you liked, was actually a couple of years old, even though it is so relevant for today.

      Liked by 1 person

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