Auditory Vision

Soundtrack at all times on your old style headphones,
Not the new ear-plug I-pod cataracts.
The new ear-plug I-pod cataracts track movements, monitor, and control.
Controlling the chip in the frontal lobe, connected to the eye-sight, making
Your vision in line with their stamped thought patterns for death and consequence.
But the old style headphones bring the enlightenment of music
To your life; stomping out the all encompassing negative.

Silence the enemy.
Silence, an auditory state, lets the armies of hate scream to you,
Ridicule, threaten, confuse, and manhandle you.
Give them an inch and they’ll drag your mutilated body for miles
Crucify you like Jesus in the neon splendor of Times Square.
Exile you to the underground labyrinth.
Force an injection overdose.
Have the chip in the frontal lobe pull the trigger for a believable suicide.
This all starts when silence rings-distorts-deforms to brutalize and control.

Sounds brought to you by the old style headphones
Checked for bugs, taps, and deemed safe.
Computer brings assortment of songs in the disregard of corporate hands and the law.
They will catch you, but until they catch you, until you’re caught, the computer will bring the sounds radiating disease free.
The moment matters, for all the hours to be filled the soundtrack needs be on-going and with assortment

Selection matters, you are being judged;
Judged by something higher, pick songs for your whereabouts.
In crowded urban scenarios hip-hop amps
Beats in time with marvelous wordplay, word play that nulls all else.
Fast poetry spoken fast, telling the harsh reality
People murdered, conned, destroyed, mistreated
And other struggles radiating life, not the fake fairy tale pop highlighting happiness.
In crowded streets with the stimulated frontal chip hip hop is your guide to the movie scene unfolding in front of your eyes.
People crossing the street, riot ready.
Scenerio ponderings helps, keeps your guard.

Scenic parks are a major part of the day, central park and others
For the nature setting to work you need to go back to the revolution.
Scattering guitar riffs, drums back and forth, lyrics shouting out life
Through drugs and love, understanding the complexity of dual worlds.
In the park you light a joint, turn on your I-pod with the old style headphones
Listen and observe.
The runner with her dog, the couple sneakily drinking wine, the homeless playing chess, a plethora of cell phone talkers connecting to people who care.
This is your relaxment, for the day, and without the soundtrack it would be a nightmare
Of government cronies lurking behind the corner, death near.

Sobriety ends at some point with drinks and the soundtrack shifts ready for all states of
Mind, fast to match the dizziness of the head.
Observing the young people setting off for their nights out.
Electronica fits the pulse, but makes you think of missed opportunity.
When sleep doesn’t come, Jazz or Classical fits the bill
For long conversations with the positive voices music does bring a peace of mind
At certain points.
While silence brings on the hate.

Schizophrenia they call this, but you know it’s being in tune with the music and sound in general.
And enlightened.