if silenece is golden, then I must be made of lead
and if looking through someone elses eyes is easy
then I say it’s something to which I must be led
i am not some starry minded aging hipster, dizzy
with a purple haze of spirtual pornography, and dread,
for the bleak and unrelenting truth that most of us are dead.
it’s so easy to say so many things, like this or that is true,
but to say is five trillion miles away from the definition of to do.
Spiritual common sense, delivered in the form of cereal box copy,
complete with one glow in the dark soul and secret druid decoder ring
or eastern style metaphysics on the prowl for the ultimate and sloppy come
while I am left here, numb, from the loss of my religious bling
Everyone is flashing their designer spirituality
driving around in God’s Signature SUV,
in a sort of twisted upbeat 1984 virtual reality.
I am not interested in a big brother God and religious goodfacts
nor do I need some faux demonology, that my interests it distracts
Almost said attracts. I only want the real, the truefacts.
I would say on this that I am intractable and irrascible,
Let’s stop this relativistic nonsense and bring about a crucible,
Not to see the truth, but to see these McShamans burned,
To see all of these false prophets churned and urned
If it means I have to give up my freedom to express truth,
I’d sacrifice it to give up your freedom to express a lie
better we both are silent, than to listen to those uncouth,
lying wheedling mental rejects, I get so mad I want to cry
all these new age, adled chidlren do my anger embolden
and now I see why silence is golden.