this world,
if it fell silent...
we'd die.
simple as that.
no exagerations.
no hesitations.
no one listens.
i hate realizations,
being awake and lieing myself to sleep.
dreaming confessions.
especially those that just lead
to more questions
for the questions i can't even ask.
reality is naked, so we look away.
hands to face, embarresed by delusions.
we're used to looking for answers
that just breed confusion.
we watch tv hoping to become
the next terry schiavo. are you
alive, numb or just another number?
we feed on drama like fish out of water;
shot in barrels, bought in hand-fulls.
we make martyrs out of monkeys,
fathers out of junkies
and authors out of flunkies.
if i could view your beliefs...
i'd see right through you
but dont listen to me.
if i want to be heard,
i'll just speak over you.
thats how its done isn't it?
pile the noise untill we're all deaf.
well atleast then, i suppose we can say
whatever we want. so take a deep breath.
live outloud. die outspoken.
use your outside voices, please.
keep nothing inside. hide silence.
talk all you want so nonstop noise
reverberates the places you frequent.
replace all you've seen, heard,
or read about with all you're being.
perception doesn't equal reality..
it rivals your dreams.
escape all reason.
be a "treason to the patriot act"
be against the war.
be ignorant to the thousands of lives
living by the death of one soldier.
be american culture.
be a non-bush, no party supporter.
be warned, this world has horns.
be hers, a slave-labored lover
be awake, sleep with strangers.
be a bedpost; pirched like a vulture
but be warned, your head has horns.
and if your concerned with being heard
then be careful to choose the right words
because I won't be listening.
if your pen is missing,
write this in the sands of time.
inscribe it in the oldest tree.
paint it within the darkest cave.
spell this out with stones in the lowest valleys,
so mountains can look down-stream and read.
wash your fingerprints in the river and
cover the sky with white sheets of paper.
muffle your mouth in your hands.
draw under the moonlight tonight,
untill your eyes are dry and dull.
make this earth your journal.
so when the world falls silent.
and all minds are averted
we'll have scribed voices
into the calls of the wind;
find a universal dialogue
hiding outside the heart
and begin again.
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