The strangest thing is,
how quickly
one part of the herd
attempts to silence another part
of the herd,
as soon as that part of the herd
attempts to understand something
from another perspective.
It's knee-jerk....
It's almost malicious,
almost like a dopamine kick ....
The moment a person questions
'what they are told' ... ( regardless
of their exact question or their current standpoint)...
This flock of vehement vultures
descend
to rip the tatters of flesh
from the face
of the Issue At Hand....
Demanding
the Insolent Questioner to crawl back
into the warm comfort
of their ConsciousnessControlledCave....
So the Virulent InterNet InQuisition
can ImPart the imPosition
of the Accepted Ideas and Ideologies
and keep the Chaos of Confusion
Safe in its Cozy Little Cage,
where Curiosity
has been Castrated and Laid
to Rest.
Actually it's not so strange,
the Range of most Herds
is preArranged
by the Gates and the Shepherds
that Lie in Wait....
The Irony that so many get terribly
Defensive
when they are called the Herd,
in relation to Words that Infer
a Reality at Variance
from what is Preffered
by their Neurological DisPosition.....
And yet
their Insistence that 'Herd Immunity'
is a Resistance against disEase ,
justifying Injection
of Conjecture
that threaten the Whole Structure.....
in that case the Self Implied Herd
TagLine
can be used
without assumed Abuse
of their Intelligence.
It's a strange Paradox
this Game we are Playing,
the only Dragon worth slaying
is the one who guards the Gates
to the Way In,
to the Way to open the I's and Thines
and Mysteries of Time.
The Polarized Embrace
of the Mystic and Mime
encases the great Race through
this MindField,
the maze of days that chaos craves,
the fertile ground above the Graves
that give rise
to Forms
of Future
Players and slaves to systems
and games of hide and Seek
with Hands and Feet Tied
to cycles
that build to climb
their way out,
by going inside......
It's strange.....
Indeed....
The herd.
Grazing and awaiting....
kept in check.Mating.
Dismayed by Waves in the Field,
that make blank the Yield of perceptions
of Real Living,
while the Wild Raw Primal Claws
of the Untamed Soul
watches beyond the forest knoll,
never safe
from the Perils of Life,
but Alive
in the Senses
and unpenned in the Fences
of the farmers safe spaces....
The Wilderness of Wonder
can only survive inside the hide
and skin
of the kin
of the wide open skies,
and the unfettered forests of an
Uncaptured Mind.
Copyright Charleen Johnston
4-6-20
BlissNinja 