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Stream of Consciousness

Some days it’s hard to know which stream of consciousness to listen to

Since there seems to be more than one cascading between my ears

As if a wall of radios, TV’s and computers

Are feeding me a nonstop flow of information

Perhaps a torrent of consciousness is more accurate

Or maybe my stream is a flood

Fueled by the melting snowpack of my glaciers

Allowing chilled voices to shout stories or complaints

Or just sob in relief at being out in the open

Like prisoners being released from the Bastille

On the day the walls were tumbled

But it could be that this flood is a mere reflection of the arctic melt

In this global warming of consciousness

Where everyone gets to have a voice

Not just the man at the front with a megaphone in his hands

But everyone who takes a moment to speak up

And add a word, a phrase or a thought to the conversation

More drops in the stream

Leading to the ocean of consciousness

 

 

David Trudel   ©  2013

 

 

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Online Poets

 

We are the synapses firing

In the obscurity of night

In the clarity of morning’s light

Firing thoughts we trigger on keyboards

Or mobile devices

Bouncing around the world and back

Where time is nothing

And everything

We weave a trading blanket

That covers us

To a degree

While we play with each other

In the dark warmth

We like our comforts

Shared

Like the thoughts we send out

Elegantly crafted

Metered rhymes

Form fitting testaments to creativity

Shocking thoughts of lust filled musings

Reinterpretations of perceptions

Random synchronicity

Illusions

Outright lies

We take facts and deconstruct them

Reassembled into feelings

Or emotions

We paint pictures with words

We admonish and cajole

We hunger for feedback

And feed on the cornucopia

That keeps our tables filled

With thoughts and words and memes

We are the synapses

We versify

Our words sing the truth of creation

But it’s not always pretty

David Trudel  © 2012

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Filed under Poetry