Friday, July 01, 2011

low souls

the void always itches,
a nagging lack,
the trembling voice of cold streets and colder people,

a failed economy,

a failed environment,

a failed church,

a failed community of empty minds,
wasting breath on useless conversation,
and silly superstitions,
trying to ward off their narcissistic fear of unrealized entitlement,
drilled into their modern western minds since childhood,
by "parental units,"

seems like everyone gets married,
and moves into a bubble,
everyone gets divorced from their friends,
to be with their spouses,
there is still a community...

of low souls,

they live where the nights are lonely,
and the days are worse,
wading through leftover lives,
broken hearts and insane lovers,
they continue to breathe,
create and build with what's been discarded,
and continue to fellowship and grow,
with those whom the Almighty, Vengeful and Jealous God has withheld his blessing.


Anonymous said...

great post, Ad. Guts. Deep. Core-cutting. Always truthful.


Timoteo said...

Damn good stuff...especially love the last stanza!
Iggy Pop... ain't he still writhing around, shirtless, falling off the stage?

Old Ollie said...

Some bubbles are tinted rose.