Les Petites Morts vs Les Grande Peurs

It was the strangest of times and the worst of times
In a society where nip slips and partial brief nudity
Are more taboo than drones dropping bombs in Syria
The nightly news has become a lobby group for big tech
Censorship has been built into memes and paychecks
Misinformation is a synonym for lacking sponsorship
See also: Machiavellian, or priests from the Temple of Syrinx;
We lose tiny pieces of ourselves to orgasms and fear
The three greatest highs are when you get wings
The moment during climax and the instant that you die

Everything else. This. Is. Everything. Else now
Spam choked overflowing imaginary mailboxes
Of innumerable buy ones get a bunch of other ones
Free, but wait the print is so fine, a come fuck your eyes
Flaunting cuttlefish words squeezing past cracks of thought
Shrouding ink splotched false bodied tentacles attaching
To your credit card, personal info and bank accounts
Like car ownership and the stockade of traffic, road rules
To0 good to pass up get your useless shit for one low cost

Back when I was growing up it was the Bible thumpers
Going door to door saving souls and censoring free speech
Now its Big Pharma and all their disciples doing the same
Every head, bowed and eyes cast down staring, watching
Always watching like waiting for a bus that never comes
Praying for a hitch into somebody else’s imagination
Voyeurs peering zoo eyed, mouths agape and marveling
At manufactured spectacle, and lure of sideshow barking

There’s so little amount of time to fall in love every day
Sunlight is here for just so long before withering at its seams
I listen to you fall to sleep holding my thigh in your silent way
As I start humming your snore before you turn over and dream
About pursuit. Or storms or circling lions or the very last owl’s nest
How can such a few moments flit away from this mass of darkness?
If night can smother light then tell me much does a shadow weigh?
And how strong is hope when its the one thing that gets away?

I don’t use words like mentacide or mass delusion flippantly
The only change has been the policeman swapping uniforms
Back the biorhythms, back off the blues please do not burn out
We prefer that you feel the shame of your breath and fade away
Listen for the chants of the lotus, mimic its love for uncertainty
Grow from the muddy veils that hide both the widow and bride
Embrace the burning desire to get back to the now, how and whom
Where it was once believed that life glows at its brightest degree
When death shifts his awkward gaze back unto thee

Published by subversopus

I am a loveable and squeezable poet and writer. I live in beautiful Oregon with my cat and boyfriend. I love long distance hiking and have completed the entire lengths of the Appalachian Trail (2002, 2014) The Pacific Crest Trail (2012) and the Continental Divide Trail in (2013). Please check out my blog, ThetigressAwakens.wordpress.com and my poetry only blog, Everydayoneironaut.wordpress.com. Cheers and have a kick ass day!!!

One thought on “Les Petites Morts vs Les Grande Peurs

  1. I don’t know that I consider death ‘bashful’ – food for thought.
    And reminds me of the lyrics from the Who’s ‘Won’t Get Fooled Again’ – meet the new boss, same as the old boss ~

    Liked by 1 person

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