Ian WhiteMorning Poetry: Strangers
December 14th 2010 13:01
Category: No Category
We are strangers
Deluded by the throngs of synthetic passion
I thought we could climax our way to recognition
But I don't know you
Your name is on the cusp of cognizance
Your passions are mimicry
Your beliefs the afterthought of someones lack of thought
I don't know you
And neither do you
You should care
You should be aware that you're here with a Doe
You have no idea what dwells below
Underneath the programming below repressed desires of the taboo
You are swept up in the blanket of charm
The bliss of the shared smile
The serenity of the inane
We could have the same pain
The self doubt
The guilt
The need to be responsible for that which is beyond our means
We could talk about our dreams
The ones we pretend not to remember
With immunity from the panels of society, you could tell me what you want
Right now
Let us act
We could wear what we please
We can turn off our filter
Be our own novel
Nothing but our plot and a setting from God
We could know until there is nothing
Cloned mentally
But with different epiphanies
None the less symmetry
I only mean connection
If you were my other half, how could I refuse protection?
But instead we're strangers
Our lives shallow cliff notes
Our words replicas of the uninspired
Afraid to probe
Afraid to know
Afraid we might find-each other
Afraid we might find-ourselves
Deluded by the throngs of synthetic passion
I thought we could climax our way to recognition
But I don't know you
Your name is on the cusp of cognizance
Your passions are mimicry
Your beliefs the afterthought of someones lack of thought
I don't know you
And neither do you
You should care
You should be aware that you're here with a Doe
You have no idea what dwells below
Underneath the programming below repressed desires of the taboo
You are swept up in the blanket of charm
The bliss of the shared smile
The serenity of the inane
We could have the same pain
The self doubt
The guilt
The need to be responsible for that which is beyond our means
We could talk about our dreams
The ones we pretend not to remember
With immunity from the panels of society, you could tell me what you want
Right now
Let us act
We could wear what we please
We can turn off our filter
Be our own novel
Nothing but our plot and a setting from God
We could know until there is nothing
Cloned mentally
But with different epiphanies
None the less symmetry
I only mean connection
If you were my other half, how could I refuse protection?
But instead we're strangers
Our lives shallow cliff notes
Our words replicas of the uninspired
Afraid to probe
Afraid to know
Afraid we might find-each other
Afraid we might find-ourselves
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