The Vacant Expression


Going to the end of the earth to crack open some hidden secrets
Where the lions roar becomes nothing more than a cats weeping.
As we make our approach my thoughts rapidly swirl

In my head like a wild animal with no regard for anyone
These offensive ideas, these tentacles--
They surround me and strike at me with no particular order
Without any charge of wrong doing.

Yet I talk like I know something more
Like something struck me while at a coffee house
Scribbling some theological verse on the back of a napkin

In a blink of brilliance
But I only write these tragedies as I see them

Creeping in through the back door.

I have arrived
And I have to block out certain thoughts so I don't lose my mind.
That's why you see my vacant expression
I block it out
It leaves me with empty feelings, like bullets that have already fired.
Yet despite this my thoughts remain scattered like the rain

I fear you will hate me and see me as I am
For I am just one of so many crying out in this circus of life.
A life where my generation would rather be publicly embarrassed

Than socially ignored.
Our new found democracy is nothing more than hypocrisy
I can smell it, thick in the air like a storm brewing overhead.

I tend to pack these thoughts like a madman in the hunt
Because I'm nothing more than a fraud, a failure.
And yet these words seem to give me some magical power

A right to spew my fight from within.
And even after all is said and done, my words just stand still
Smoldering embers and no flame in sight
A fire that has been pushed to the verge of being extinguished.


Poem by J.A.D. © 2007