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Voices calling after me July 15, 2007

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry, Uncategorized.

I don’t like to hear the voices calling after me.

Like telemarketers or bill collectors on the phone, they are a plague.

You can try to wash them off in a shower or bath but it stains you

In places soap can’t reach, places where detergent can’t deter.

It’s like the poetry that’s unreadable and prose that loses its meaning with every next word.

You can’t make it hot or cold, this is a lukewarm generation that has rejected God.

Still, He can understand what we cannot, regardless of who demands we abandon Him

For whatever reason du jour happens to tickle the ears of the fickle.

What you think you know is really the glass half full, at best,

And it’s likely only a few drops of it is what passes for knowledge on this restless orb.

Just when you think you said something original, that Google or Wikipedia prove you wrong,

Since others at other times were struck the same way, but more compelling and in context.

So vacation in Long Beach or go across to Avalon or trek to the Inland Empire,

But the baggage carried out to the coast isn’t left there unless you intend to leave it.

Yes, there are things you can decide within the limits of free will that are helpful

For relaxation and disengagement from a hurried world and your perceived obligations.

We burden ourselves with the incompleteness of the past and anticipate a similar future.

It’s an odd load to carry, whether on our backs, in our hands or on our hearts,

But we seem to enjoy talking about it and allow others to see it, like it’s a badge of honor.

Yet, it’s not something to be proudly brandished, it’s to be pitied, and deep down we know it.

I don’t like to hear the voices calling after me.

Like children coming for me like I’m a sort of lord and protector or sage, dark and mysterious,

You can try to shrug them off but they pursue all the more since they have nothing else to do

They chase you into places in your soul you’d rather not go and they laugh.



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