Can dying be like turning off the radio? tuning in for channels from left to right ,extracting something sullen from a switch or a dial
blurbs of breaths interrupted like commercials getting their paid minutes of madness included in your daily drain
Staying in static staving off the mostly erratic ,we listen & hear but never draw near brushing it away as trifle
Many many options, but who is making the rules of when it should stop or what will be the proper words to explain
many never consider moving the numbers ,call signs always waiting to catch us in our prime times
Breathing outward to us, capturing capsules of our minds ,received but not welcomed another number another day
Between the hissing maybe vocal, for many never thought of more than local , moving on ,humming, simply trying to make rhymes
Making an action from voices echoing from autos,hallways, has become so integrated that thought never develops it is just Passe
The power from those towers can be far reaching flailing out three hundred sixty degree waves of blind finesse
Like sirens from a sonnet we take in the vibrations filling us flawlessly ,often over riding all previous notions
Now a newer unknown way of reception with nerves and neurons regulating the actions of a soul that will regress
Upbeat harmonies similar to patterns of a heart beat, sent out through receivers ,be it stereo or EKG & EEG
Brought in felt is rising ,falls, patterns of charts or felt as soft art, quick decisions now bring new emotions
Transfixed on some beacons belching out mindless material between static ,shaky even erratic or even magic
Simple samples of voices taking notes as we turn the dial ,Passover or stay put depending on the vibe
Once released how far can the true transmissions travel,ever really lost or just passing into the abyss without ever being tragic
So A.M. or F.M. begun with tuning in ,just blending ,taken as common background expressions , becoming to accustomed with pleasantries
or patterns until the sudden LOUD rush of blind blaring induces a reaction to maybe an ending to the program that we have long been subscribed .....R.C.
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 8:24 PM UTC
Can dying be like turning off the radio? tuning in for channels from left to right ,extracting something sullen from a switch or a dial
blurbs of breaths interrupted like commercials getting their paid minutes of madness included in your daily drain
Staying in static staving off the mostly erratic ,we listen & hear but never draw near brushing it away as trifle
Many many options, but who is making the rules of when it should stop or what will be the proper words to explain
many never consider moving the numbers ,call signs always waiting to catch us in our prime times
Breathing outward to us, capturing capsules of our minds ,received but not welcomed another number another day
Between the hissing maybe vocal, for many never thought of more than local , moving on ,humming, simply trying to make rhymes
Making an action from voices echoing from autos,hallways, has become so integrated that thought never develops it is just Passe
The power from those towers can be far reaching flailing out three hundred sixty degree waves of blind finesse
Like sirens from a sonnet we take in the vibrations filling us flawlessly ,often over riding all previous notions
Now a newer unknown way of reception with nerves and neurons regulating the actions of a soul that will regress
Upbeat harmonies similar to patterns of a heart beat, sent out through receivers ,be it stereo or EKG & EEG
Brought in felt is rising ,falls, patterns of charts or felt as soft art, quick decisions now bring new emotions
Transfixed on some beacons belching out mindless material between static ,shaky even erratic or even magic
Simple samples of voices taking notes as we turn the dial ,Passover or stay put depending on the vibe
Once released how far can the true transmissions travel,ever really lost or just passing into the abyss without ever being tragic
So A.M. or F.M. begun with tuning in ,just blending ,taken as common background expressions , becoming to accustomed with pleasantries
or patterns until the sudden LOUD rush of blind blaring induces a reaction to maybe an ending to the program that we have long been subscribed .....R.C.
