Taking Leave

I am giving up on poets for a day – not poetry! just needing a break from Communal Escapism: I mean, it is nice to write of meadows and bird songs – of the past, how things were; of the future, and how things could be – of dreams, we imagine and wish were real – but to exclude the paramount present, what is now, society's rapid descent to a place where no writing will be permitted unless sanctioned by party-peers and Fire-breathing Government-censors, is a damnable offense against the God given, autonomy loving, soul of man – refusing, I am, to be relegated to pleasant rhymes and entrancing, hypnotic patterns, dear as they are to my musical heart – I refuse to end always in a place where I must always start – I would refuse the sun, moon, stars and air, if only to be lighted and then floated away – far from my source and being; I resent, daily fleecing, forced to protectively fleeing; daily stripped and raped of free-will, which my creator deemed sacred, divine and inviolable – I reject this profitless game of seek but never allowed to find; clean morals and values smeared over by slick salves of scripted paste, eye-candy for deceit – so, not from poetry but from poets do I retreat, while still partially mentally unshackled, using my blessed feet.... Gone fishing.