Dissonance

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Dissonance

The sphere has
Spun in space
Thirty times
And I still walk
The margins of
The center where
                              Those who feel
                              Normal exhibit a
                              Certain kind of
                              Unconsciousness
That is absent from
My being, and
The matrix
That is all around me
Grows brighter and brighter
And I scream
“Can’t you see it?”
                              “You think too much.”
                              says one,
                              “You really see that?”
                              says another,
                              or the most frequent reaction,
                              “. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .”
                              of Silence
That death sentence
Cause by a
Radical Cognitive Dissonance
In which my fragmented idealism
Plants roots in an
Eternal landscape of relativity
Where essentialisms wither and
‘Normal’ has nothing solid to
Orientate itself according to the
Maps and Laws of “N”-ature
                              That are tattooed onto babies eyeballs
                              So that they will “see”
‘The World’ according to
His Truth that is
the only way to get into
That space where
All fall short of the glory—
                              My “ . . . . . . . . .” response to
                              Regurgitated verses that are
                              Force-fed to screaming babies
                              And squirming toddlers
                              Frantically trying to escape their
                              Parents imprisoning arms as
                              They sit in pews caged in
                              By tradition and values,
Two arms of the cross—
That instrument of torture and death
Used to ‘save the world’—
                              That holds us in place
                              Until we stop drawing breath
                              And fighting to be free . . .

(unfinished)

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ReltneReltnealmost 18 years ago
Borbetomagic Confusion

You are perhaps trying to do too much all at once in this poem.

The abecedarian words and collegic concepts are not perfected enough to gain from your plays with spacing and vice-versa.(IMO)

Otherwise an interesting read and a work worth developing.

Question: Why start each line with a capital except for one stanza? (I personally would prefer to see a more sparing use of capital letters.)

edit suggestions: "Cause by a" - verb tense?

". . . tattooed onto babies eyeballs" - possessive

"Orientate itself" - possibly, but check word meaning

My Erotic TrailMy Erotic Trailalmost 18 years ago
unfinished?

With the length involved... perhaps a series? I enjoyed your poem (~_~) thanks for the literary journey of words and images.

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