On The Precipice Of Orwellian Influence
An opaque paragraph spoken without conviction
The darkness obvious, as well as the vitriolic taint
Uninterested reader, reading uninteresting words
Intentionally confusing and filled with ambiguity
Almost Delphic in the details and construction
Casual stoppages offer little to ease the monotone
Each word captured in an expose of frivolity
Innocuous overtones slathered throughout
Spoken by a speaker with few redemptive qualities
Nondescript and nearly featureless
Except for his darkened fuliginous eyes
Ones without bottoms and devoid of color
Tis better to listen to the words than see them
No songwriter nor poet, nay, not even fit for prose
Yet the words spill forth in an unhealthy stew
Political correctness means literary destruction
Orwellian scripted passages, scrutinized again
Not to offend, not to cause outrage, not to….
Pronouns used sparsely, again to not offend
Cryptic passages confuse instead of educate
A dark speaker, dark words, a darkening world
The standard bearer for those times which will come
When grey or gray are the fashionable choices
Variety awaiting its autopsy, idle and anonymous
The on-again, off-again moment of reckoning
Phalanxes stand weaponless, turning and turning
The gears of a giant press, squeezing creativity
Blood running on concrete walkways
Ideas and imagination follow to the sewers
Giveth thine heartstrings to a nobler cause
No more shall such whimsical verses be penned
For speech of the heart carries too much emotion
And nobility remains with the aristocracy
Those elevated heights aren’t open for us to see
And causes not sanctioned are rebellious in nature
Giving and taking the few things you can measure
The future of words seem stripped of any pleasure
Writers, we write, and we fill pages galore
Nothing off-the-shelf, not found in stores
Balancing the scales from those who no longer care
Which sentences we edit, passages where
In the shadows we live, and daily we write
Our ideas seem to flow, our placements just right
Eyes that radiate something mysterious and pure
Turn our pages, to see what comes next
Thinking most likely will come into play
And frivolity, fascination, and certainly fun
- When We Lost Control - October 13, 2025
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- Sorrow - October 9, 2025
Wow! This is right on the edge and almost slipping into a dystopian place. Excellent phrasing to set the mood perfectly. Well done, Ralph.
Interesting work Ralph filled with some great phrasing and carrying the reader through thoughts, one after another, in a tapestry of considerations. Rich with meaning and pleasured reading my friend.