Tranquility Fate

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
In a lucid mindset, I began to reminisce over my past, present, and the future of my world, the economy, and the fate of the disillusioned hate which politicians seem to have for anyone who truly needs them...

Submitted: July 20, 2011

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Submitted: July 20, 2011

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The tranquility of peaceful sensation: confidence overwhelms my moment of now
as I philosophize apathy
and consider all aspects of relaxation of mind and body
within my warm place of being...

The loveliness of calmness is an artifice brought upon my current
like a still water that can never last
as the wind always blows away the glassy surface of smoothness
with ripples of emotional distress...

Yet I suppress these anxieties and frustrations,
caring only for the freedom of enjoyment
as I envision the endless distance of imaginated fugue state...

I am comforted by the peaceful outlook I have taken upon myself,
having replaced the constant dilapidated state of distress
which has been my life and past pains...

And yet in my calm state of mind, I find myself reminiscing
over what is yet to be or soon to come
while a whisper of regret lingers about my mind
like a cloud of smoke, cloying and swirling with the slightest breeze.

What I need and what I want have come into alignment
and the fruition of those desires will be forthcoming
upon their own arrival time, hopefully sooner than later.

For my words may shock those who think that they know me,
but what I experienced as a youth
has become ingrained into my life and persona...

Such things which I speak aloud in casual conversation
with matter-of-factness are things which utterly astound
and shatter the perception of those around me
who stand with shocked expression and whisper that my words were too much
for their fragile realities to conceive of as normality...

And yet these things are nothing shocking to my own mind and lifestyle
as I have accepted them as part of my being
and incorporated them into my heart and mind...

However I find that I must censor my own words and edit my thoughts
before they leap from my tongue into the over-sensitive atmosphere
of over-confidence which surrounds those who grew up
within an environment which nurtured, protected, and cushioned them
from the dramas and horrors of what I find to be part of my childhood.

My American dreams are the nightmares of politicians
who prefer to slice their own roads with the cash
provided by their special interests,
which have nothing to do with the interests of those
who are truly special and in dire need of guidance and protection
from such greed and carelessness -
as that which purports to be for the good of all, yet which benefits a mere few.

These dreams of a world in which society as a whole is protected
from those who would do any portion of that society harm:
protected by a governing body of people
who truly listen to the individuals who live in the worst possible conditions
protected by people of influence
who will work to their maximum potential to make the least man's life better...

These are the nightmares of the warring factions of oil-mongrels
who insist that they receive their own share before anyone else can even see
how much is there in the first place...

Ah, but these pipe dreams can bring about the downfall
of so many who see themselves as essential and integral
to the working functions of this society of American greed.

Due to this essential inevitability,
there is little chance of the society becoming a great one
which is self-sustaining in a world
that sees only the bottom line of profitability;
damn the need for stability within our own country...

And even still I find myself calm and soothed
by the fact that there is still a chance for true change in this world,
if only those who live in fear would wake up
from the nightmare of a greedy corporatocracy and seize back the reins of power,
to lash the workhorses and work houses back to full tilt
and bring America out of the ditch...

The solutions of tomorrow must be found in the shadows of our yesterdays
and utilized to renovate this shabby home:
fumigate the evils of society and scrub away the muck
from our dilapidated factories; find a way to bring us back from this brink
at which we are poised to be punched in the face and plummet to our doom:

All the while continuing to buy foreign-made goods
and stare in shock at the cost of buying something
made by people within our own borders,
and thus the cycle of inevitable atrophy continues to eat away at our souls...

Copyright September 2010 Xoandre, www.xoandre.us


© Copyright 2019 Xoandre. All rights reserved.

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