Poetry

The Planet That Never Sleeps

endless stimulation
endless stimulation

It seems as though man is drawn to endless stimulation

What is wrong with me?
What is wrong with you?
That we are so drawn to endless stimulation

Like a moth to the light
Stimulation draws us nearer and nearer and nearer still.

So I journeyed to the African desert to escape endless stimulation
No phone to use.
No twitter to see.
No internet to plug me into the deafening buzz of man's misery.

But as I sit, in the dead of night.
No civilization in sight.
What surrounds me?

Yes...
endless stimulation
endless stimulation

A bats quiet wings rustling beside me.
A zebra snorting at... oh I don't know.
A jackal cackling away, it's dinner delicious.
An oryx bellowing at any fear that approaches.
A grasshopper chirping, a familiar tune
A baboon howling, not too dissimilar to what we humans do.

And even when for a moment it all seems to cease...

The mountains themselves appear to whisper endlessly
The babbling brook, well the name is quite apt
The breath of a boy... alive... surely

endless stimulation
endless stimulation

On this rock we call home, we did not invent endless stimulation

Just another derivative, and a poor one at that.

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