Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Walking, always walking, Puzzled youth being funneled like cattle, Seek shelter from the sun, Jeer and poke at each other, All from the safety of their cell phones. Constantly seeking that one undesired retention Of jukebox explosion catapults. Thrusting us deeper into the mind/brain paradox What is this? What are these strange mutterings in the dark? Babysitting wasp nests by electro shock railroads, Disgust in the face of the many. Where is this golden eclipse we’re all waiting for? How can I not see the spiders on my windowsill? Are these anguished, infantile youth truly desired? Aggravated Neanderthal men Try to impress pulsating goddesses of Light, All to no prevail. Sickening feeling in the gut, Why aren’t you here? Well I suppose, Things have changed. The Empress of the tunnel Seeks out the empire halls Of the tunnel-bound angst, Musicians in the hall strumming There thoughtless musings, While the the debutantes watch and listen. The intensity is unbearable to them, They must seek shelter in their ipods. Milk, must have it. Watching them creep through the cafe, May they one day find what they’re seeking. Where are they? Sitting here by myself, Look at them jeering at each other In their own jargons. Have they seeked out the pleasure of life? Dream-like meditations, Well-rounded views of life, Happiness within. Dumbly smile at each other, Seeking closeness, Mind/body consciousness
0
Feb 28, 2011
Feb 28, 2011 at 1:05 PM UTC
Youth
Walking, always walking, Puzzled youth being funneled like cattle, Seek shelter from the sun, Jeer and poke at each other, All from the safety of their cell phones. Constantly seeking that one undesired retention Of jukebox explosion catapults. Thrusting us deeper into the mind/brain paradox What is this? What are these strange mutterings in the dark? Babysitting wasp nests by electro shock railroads, Disgust in the face of the many. Where is this golden eclipse we’re all waiting for? How can I not see the spiders on my windowsill? Are these anguished, infantile youth truly desired? Aggravated Neanderthal men Try to impress pulsating goddesses of Light, All to no prevail. Sickening feeling in the gut, Why aren’t you here? Well I suppose, Things have changed. The Empress of the tunnel Seeks out the empire halls Of the tunnel-bound angst, Musicians in the hall strumming There thoughtless musings, While the the debutantes watch and listen. The intensity is unbearable to them, They must seek shelter in their ipods. Milk, must have it. Watching them creep through the cafe, May they one day find what they’re seeking. Where are they? Sitting here by myself, Look at them jeering at each other In their own jargons. Have they seeked out the pleasure of life? Dream-like meditations, Well-rounded views of life, Happiness within. Dumbly smile at each other, Seeking closeness, Mind/body consciousness
copyright 2010 Bryar Trent
Written by
American
Feb 28, 2011
Feb 28, 2011 at 1:05 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem