Chemical Dewdrop

Man, I'm constantly
reinventing myself
reinjecting myself
with data and facts
and underground chatter attacks
what's not to hear
when the voice of truth is in your ear
opening eyes wide to see
the exquisite view of me

Shit, I get caught up too
in what's being spewed in the news,
talks of disaster, aftermath
and consequential missile attacks
people dying, children crying,
while the rest of us sit hypnotized,
waking up to coffee rides
Starbucks, pickup trucks
and endless collections of junk.

I'm talking about the boy from Palestine,
the one with the bullet in his thigh
he loves tupac and poetry,
lives his life on bombed out streets.

I'm talking about kids with no limbs,
terrified the solders will come again,
the constant lashing of the government,
adding more acidic delight into our brains.

Listen, it's crazy out here,
where the dewdrop is chemical
and I can hear the missiles testing,
where senators are confessing to crimes,
and religious freaks scream for the end times.

But somehow I'm smiling,
giggling, giving way to laughter,
inside of this constant disaster
filtered negative energy on t.v. screens.
I'm finding quiet with no music,
chuckles with no confusion
and I'm staying hopeful
for the sheep to be sheared
for the whispers to reach their ears
for these moments to pass and fade
into the dawning of the new age.

~Vennie~

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