Cognitive Dissonance

The frequencies of fluorescent bulbs incessantly eat away the thoughts of my mind

Like a burrowing worm winding its way

The white noise turns into a numb-fuzz

The clocks tick, the bee’s no longer buzz

Some sort of nausea, a constant sick

As the candle melts away burning down the wick



The wind blows, spreading the seeds of all that we know

Birds serenade the serene, absent of the obscene

Nature purely still seems clean

Teal and emerald, deep royal blue

The water still flows in the same enticing glow and hue

On the top of a hill, with a bird’s eye view, all that’s below, we’ll come to know

The infinite horizon with the brilliant sun

Shining down light for all to become



Alarm clock, 5am, time to make my way

From my home away from home, to my home where I spend all day

Work starts and never ends until I get enough pay

Inputs, charts, data mining, graphs

Work is my infection and it’s spreading like staph

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The frequencies of fluorescent bulbs still hum away

The constant soundtrack that always plays

And the printer adds in its random techno sound

Work is being done, absent thoughts are abound

My focus on the benign is running me into the ground

For what I am searching for, where I am, can never be found



The unknown trail that winds its way, through forests and dens where deer still play

There is a creek that meanders through carved rock; shimmering-shocking indigo laced with turquoise,

With a healthy fish stock that empties its mouth into blissful cay with a fertile forest canopy that envelopes the sky

There are few gaps, but they will be filled, as tree’s climb infinitely toward the sun, or at least try

The lush underground creates a miniature maze, where rabbits run, and elk graze

So much life on so many scales, before the sun sets the sky becomes pale, then fades away

But the light from the sun shines on from our fires, cooking our foods, satisfying out desires

Then there will be eerie songs of the wolf, howling at the moon

But the fire keeps us safe, and warm, until we no longer need it in June

Then the rebirth of the earth, an explosion of buds and blooms, harvest will be coming soon

Grasshoppers chirp and swans swoon, the wolf is still howling to the moon,

A few mosquitoes buzz around, but I have become accustomed to their bite and sound

zousu zousu
18-21, M
Feb 15, 2010