Even from those people who profess to be the most open to ‘light’,
Are those also with whom I most often fight.
They recoil from my words and what they represent,
My freedom of speech they then try—for the future—to prevent,
In case, I suppose, their pride will dent.
I’ve been harassed by hypocrites,
Ostracised by ostriches,
Upbraided by upstarts,
Castigated by cretins,
Banned by bigots,
Goaded by the gormless,
Ignored by the ignorant.
These hypocrites, these self-proclaimed seekers of truth,
Ignoring their own advice when faced by truth that isn’t nice,
Scurry away from their discomfort, resembling disturbed lice.
They hide behind clichés that they’re too blind to see,
They’re hiding from everything—including me!
The narrowly open-minded, self-delusional and blinded,
Individuals who form groups in which they cower in troops,
Pay lip service to values they don’t truly value,
They treat recycled creeds like scoops unconsciously—like dupes.
Terrified of leaving their comfort zones,
Their middle-class moans are about politically correct distractions,
From their materialist existences and their obsession with what each other owns.
While frantically worrying about repaying their loans,
They pathetically ponder over Buddhist koans,
The received wisdom appealing to the cowardly crowd,
Exposes their every double standard.
Their amplified fears are disguised yet loud,
Echoed and mirrored by the company they use as a shroud.
Company being an ephemeral denial of loneliness,
That ultimately engulfs everyone nevertheless.
Who does a gang of fools impress?
Can they not see how much they depress?
Their collective ignorance is blatant and grim,
I struggle to believe they can be so dim.
Preaching the ideals they’ve inherited and learned,
Then repetitively paraphrased and then returned,
To its source—the hollow communities that have earned,
My incredulity, my contempt, how I’ve burned…
With my indignation at their risible posturing.
