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Unsung california dreamin. (Prose Poem) by SupremeDreamer
(An insignificant tribute to Ginsberg, Burroughs, and Kerouac.)
I growl beneath my breath when speaking,
dictating my turbulent universe and forging dreams
marked by disordered euphoria that radiates from
methylated neuro-circuits fired up in an emotional
explosion of impassioned fury and, far from being sane,
this reality remains twisted, introverted and entwined with
my vision of savagery, of anarchy as a method of action,
independent thought and widespread disrespect for authority--
characteristics inherent in the dismal youth of today--
the dreaded-eclipsed future of America, born and bred in a destitute,
poverty-stricken, politically-incorrect, and corrupt US of A
where teenaged minds are raised in the night life of techno-raves,
as rhapsodic children dancing oddly with eyes consumed by xtc illusions
of love, clouded with drunken-fallacious feelings of unity
or-- if not that, their pubescent psyche is abandoned, consigned to the
noon-time tension of violent urban jungles covered in graffiti symbols
advertising vulgar threats that represent scattered bands of unruly
delinquents seduced by a plethora of pseudo-sadistic criminal thought,
and loyally following their inner devils' wicked persuasions...
Welcome in this rising pillar of social decay and rebellion.
Say hello to My America; it's polluted and smells
of ethical-moral disarray, with a distaste for faith, religion,
and therapeutic intervention, swaying in tune to my persistent growl
that rouses the frenzied-warlike confrontation.
Face the dreary turmoil and dwell in worrisome consideration
of what the bleary-approaching horizon will bring, praying that this
rogues ill-fated prophesy shant come to fruition,
despite my rumbling silhouette that bears witness and
causes your pleading lips to stiffen and then resign
to a faint-uncontrolled, eerie-trembling moan.
Acknowledge what your eyes avoided and listen to my
unsung California dream of rebellion and pearly-white puritan skulls
whose crumbling bones have fallen prey to macabre subversion,
then say nothing-- speak silence, feed your growing pestilence,
and reveal nothing of what you've heard here in profane abandon.
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Arithmetic Mean: 5.0
Weighted score: 5.0
Overall Rank: 7701
Posted: July 6, 2004 11:42 PM PDT; Last modified: July 7, 2004 12:46 AM PDT
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Comments:
375 view(s)
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I'm not in school, haven't been for two years now.
Never have been in a band of any kind.
And being without a band or instrumental talent or the desire for either, any possibility for me to strike a deal with a record company is quite thoroughly gutted.
Oh, and I've never surfed in L.A. with my fellow "dudes and dudettes" or drove around in my daddies beat-down 69' corvette.
Only similarity to be found is dreamin.. two severly polarized and opposed kinds of dreamin that are about as familiar as Peaches and Mayo.
'less you have anything contrary to the above, that joyfully settles it- in either case that is. Good day.