Floating in a Sea of Echoes

Floating in a Sea of Echoes

I aim to be a moderator.
Not a hater or an instigator, but perhaps an agitator.
Because deep inside there does reside an aged gadfly.
He exists to remind to be kind. To rewind. Not to be blind
to the past but to remember what will and won’t last. So I think fast.
I talk trash, I cut class, I walk past, pass gas, and never cease to ask

If I do it right I might teach some lessons to the stepsons
or daughters of a lost and broken generation. One that seems constantly on vacation.
An unpaid holiday, away from their dreams. The ways and means, and it all just seems,
a constant quest to get laid, trade maids, sin in the shade, and fade.
Nothing of substance.

So I float and I wait, looking for the boat to navigate
my way out of this mess, trying to de-stress and rescue the damsel in distress
wearing that dress that shows just the right amount of her breasts. That is, unless
I should be looking for something else. Well, Maybe I should be listening. Maybe these waves have something to say. Something I could restate in a new way, shedding light on today
shining brighter than a blue ray on a new age 1080 p broadcasting TV.
But again that’s what I see, that’s obviously not what I need. It’s just a news feed,
a deed to my desires, designed to lead me to the fires
of my own avarice just to piss my life away and waste my best and brightest days
chasing after the wind.
So what then?

There’s a whole sea of echoes. People who’ve been through the throes and winds and woes
of life in all its strife to move beyond common sight. They found that hounded holy light.
Wisdom in abundance, coming not from redundant pundits who tout their numb wits like it’s some holy writ. It makes me like to have a fit. Because they just don’t give a shit. No.
They’d rather you not know anything of value. They’d rather wow you,
blind you with pinstripes rather than show you how to
Think for yourself.

Pass by these venomous vipers of “why try?”get to the reality of the ethereal high.
Wisdom: the practical application of knowledge. Sharpen your mind’s dull edge.
File down to a point and anoint the mind with the kind of words that wind through the halls
of eternity.

Read King Lear and drink a beer with Shakespeare. Or is that too queer?
Explore the rear ends of fiction through the unique lens of Tom Robbins.
It takes more than a little brass and a college class to understand Dumas you dumb-ass.
Why don’t you run all through this with C.S. Lewis and then intuit where the truth is?
Is your plate too full to shovel down a Russian novel? Raskolnikov, lives in such an awful hovel, Dostoevsky, it’s hard for an American to sympathize.

And yet we do try, we thrive, survive, supervise, subsidize, and occasionally we realize.
With our epiphany comes great felicity from seeing through the duplicity– Then electricity.
Action and movement, traction and improvement.
The satisfaction of knowing how the groove went.
These things have happened before, and there’s more in store. Be patient and always listen.
In this sea of echoes.