'Metafiction' by Walter James Idema, May 16, 2016

Tell me how do souls communicate, If they behave in states imaginary? Tell me how these points will concentrate, If they propagate in waves eternally?
Straight in line with time, Curving round fractal spaces; A thousand trillion gardens, In fits of actual awakeness...
A vision appears yet once to bloom! Such beauty stressed in relaxation; Like poems pretend to listen now, Transcending contemplation.
Deep within where love is starved, It's all out there without us; With fragile hands, we take so hard, Down full with the itis.
Worth our weight in gold, Just one small touch from Midas; Before our melting and our smelting, Tell me how many will right this.
Why there is expectation, That just goes to show; Tell us how to serve, And then tell us where to go.
Where science there will delegate, It's simply elementary; Tell me how do souls communicate, If they behave in states imaginary?

Strung out on anxiety<br>
Knowing societies true nature<br>
Is a shared mass psychosis <br>
Called the American Dream<br>
Where sleeping believers live lives of compulsory participation<br>
To build and maintain thier own planetary prison system<br>
For us all<br>
So that all souls cast into this material world do thier bidding; post inclusion<br>
In this mass delusion<br>
Reverberates a curse from immaterial realms<br>
Spellbound by The Devil <br>
To a contract of tacit concent past down from generations<br>
Where feeding off the few who resist, refuse and protest this nightmaresque dreamscape;<br>
Made to suffer in public view by whatever means<br>
Provides vast material successes <br>
And a comfort in keeping things the same<br>
So wide awake and restless <br>
Unable to lay down and go to sleep<br>
My anxiety severely grows <br>
As I invoke the unbecoming of this ageless curse<br>
Hoping to unbind minds who think all things manifest as matter, matter solely as what's real <br>
Is really the same as a bad crack addiction <br>