Nov. 3, 2011


by William Hudson (author's profile)



Suffering the constancy
Of this world's apparent choke hold on idiocy
This patented surplus
Defining every majority of this penitentiary democracy
You see it shifts, this world,
Each population mentally castrated
By the administrative ambiguity of action
And reinforced by the alleged righteous man's inaction
It's sobering at times, how
Homicidal tendencies claw their way to my surface
Can confront my spirit with the moral dilemma
Self-preservation or social catalyeation—you must choose
The tolerance factor always
Advocating and accepting the realities of these
Uncle Tom types—house negros all
When leave us without pasture and shook the ears of administrative rule
There are no elections to be truly democratic
There are no parties, really, vying for recognition
In an official or representative capacity
It's just the majority that rule... a majority of ignorants, cowards
Funny thing that a majority of slaves
Could be ruled by so few dragons? But they are!
Indeed, I am, a slave too—ruled in part by slaves
Shackled and bound by the silence of those similarly situated
What I suffer is less what these dragons persecute
Than it is the division of this slave populace
There is the slave whom serves the persecution
And the slave whom justifies its application
I am of the latter, apparently so as it is the former
Whom purchase their incarcerated freedom upon my back
"Confidential informant statements", "anonymous tips"
"Special placement needs"
It is a wonder protective custody could be classified an award
Of the herd's actions when
They overpopulate this world?
"Self-preservation" seems their motto
Hence my bane
Eerily, the hormonal tendencies are kept in abeyance as a result
Because my self-preservation is then self-destructive
And because social catalyeation
Is not only impractical
These slaves lost all passion for their dignity and pride
Their freedom, long ago
I'm not a revolutionary
I write and apply doctrine for myself
All else I may inspire within the hearts of men
Will have to evolve from their willful observations
Of my silence and their own self-recognition
A silent warrior...
A mountain amongst these hills
I stand alone
Unwilling to resurrect an instinct seemingly
So foreign to the minds around me
If it is my fate to drown in this liberality
Then I do so as I came
Inspired by the greatness that gives me meaning, purpose, and life
And as the flag bearer of my own lost cause
Let them rise to my height
To drown the life from me


What more can I say? This is purely a moment of my static. Does anyone identify, and are you willing to share?



Replies (1) Replies feed

nfiedler_83 Posted 1 year ago. ✓ Mailed 1 year ago   Favorite
Hi, not sure if you are even going to remember, who I am it's probably been about 19 years. Still think about that drive we took around Baraboo and the talks we had, threw our letters and all the vists. But anyway I found some of your poems on line today,and of course they brought a smile to my face instantly, as they always did. I am so glad that you are or were still writing, and hoping you still are. I still have the ones you sent me so many years ago and still reread the one you wrote about me when times get a little rough.
Anyway I would love to hear back from you, if you would like that is, if not I will understand as well.

Nicole Fiedler
340 W Adams St
Platteville WI 53818

It has been a while take care,

We will print and mail your reply by . Guidelines

Other posts by this author


Get notifications when new letters or replies are posted!

Posts by William Hudson: RSS email me
Comments on “tatic”: RSS email me
Featured posts: RSS email me
All Between the Bars posts: RSS