Be the Drooling idiot! Me, myself, and I agree that the others, Are part of the insidious alien anal probe, Anistropic Hyperuniform, Quasi-Crytalline, Mindcontrol conspiracy, behind the Illuminati! Everywhere you go following you from the rear! Private peanut gallery, yet, leading from the rear! But, a great Jedi feels the force flow through him! Learning how to ignore, what is hardest to forget! You can run, but you can’t hide so cover your ass! If three is company then it might be time to learn, How to float like a butterfly, and sting like a bee! How to be the drooling idiot you were born to be! Instead of a moth just destined to go up in flames, Know for yourself, nobody knows a damned thing! Know, that your harmony neither acts nor reasons, Know for yourself, the true value of going in circles! Know your personal wisdom of collective ignorance, Know, you are either smarter than a damned chicken, Or the only lights left on might just be to fool yourself! Know freedom, refusing anyone's bullshit distinctions! Know freedom refusing to allow others to confuse you! Know that future shock is instant karma gonna getcha! Know that life often demands we all get over it already! Be the Drooling Idiot we can all know and learn to love! Free at last, free at last, free at last the roaring silence become deafening, Learning to be still, running in circles, while listening to the sounds of silence.
This poem is somewhat special in that it ties Martin Luther King's famous "Free At Last", what I say three times is true, into the basic liberation theme of the human soul. I may have to work on the pacifier shape a little, but this is one of those rudimentary poems that the little kids are better at.
Its a tough poem to write, and I had to write perhaps 250 poems before I could touch this one. To me its all just assembling a puzzle, and the idea I deserve much credit for the artwork is laughable. These are the themes that hippies love, and they are the ones who turned me onto the poems.
Yes, good. I like the exclamation marks in all your poems because it makes me feel like there's constant "big bang" creation energy all through them.
The exclamation points are merely how I shape the poems. Every line has to fit just about perfectly, and the exclamation points provide one the best measurements for fit. I don't even have any idea what shape the poems are supposed to be, and just do the mind-numbing editing until the poem tells me what its supposed to say. As much as anything else, their shapes literally tell me how to write the poems, and I don't really have a lot of input. I didn't even recognize this poem as resembling a baby pacifier until after I'd written it.
This poetry is all mathematics, using contextual vagueness and the emotional-logic of Intuitionistic mathematics. Women sometimes beg me to write more sexy poems, and I have to tell them its all just math to me. I spent decades studying the philosophy and logic behind the poetry.
