They are the dreams of our youth, the lies we repeat to yourselves learned from birth about fairness equality opportunity hard work ` justice and on and on and if we ever do learn that it’s virtually all utter bullshit designed to keep we animals busy and obeying our masters – if this becomes self- evident, we run the risk of becoming, or at least being labeled, jaded cynical bitter hostile noncompliant and all sorts of shit meant to keep us down but these dreams of our youth should exist in some universe somewhere, so really part of the secret is to never believe, never trust but never give up or give in. They are the clouds in their thunderous glory, all passion and wet, white hot lust. They are the leaves in the trees that remain overhead, stretching and growing before falling prey to the wind and the war gods. They are the animals crying into the inky darkness at night when all is still and creeping with murky cringe. They are the children so painfully innocent in their once-charmed sweaty life-race, now all merely prey as the world has learned. They are the dreams that mean so much – never believe, never trust but never give up or give in.
Poetry
Cosmic Looping
The dreams of youth, the lists of fairness and justice, stand beside thunder, leaves, animals, and children. Through every turn the poem keeps one instruction: never believe, never trust, but never give up or give in.