Boom

Summary

Boom is a lyrical meditation on chaos, ignorance, and awakening—poetic reflections on history, identity, and universal truth at luciditybooks.

Boom, thump, thud. From a year away you know who it is. Even from more than ten years away, you know who’s coming. That is how outdated the thump, thud, bomb is. The cream of the Sun wearing a blonde wig is idiotic. A drop-pants walking around with his butt hanging out is equally foolish. How low must self-respect and self-esteem plummet before they overflow into maturity and reason?

What are the first-born children of the universe waiting for? They have already received an enslavement saga urging them to be true to themselves. The ancient ones are looking down desperately. They are trying to find a similitude of their nature. All they see is their offspring surrendering themselves to petty thieves.

The manual of elementary thinking is still on their dressers and tables. It holds the same old instructions of how to have faith. It also advises hope in an imaginary phantom. Many had come to know the phantom with a gun pointed at the back of their head. They had no choice, or else.

Elders are still teaching this do or death persuasion to their children causing them to bow down to the made-up nonsense of their oppressors. Books raped, plundered, and distorted from their original meaning by thugs, vandals, and identity thieves to control the soft minded of those who refuse to use their brains to think.

Bomb, boom, bang, driving down the street disturbing the peace and showing everyone how juvenile, a person can be. When will the punch-drunk cast aside senselessness? When will they realize their true nature? They were born from the mighty ones of old. Their strength is instilled within the codes of their DNA. Everything the wild encounters is corrupted, polluted, and destroyed. Nothing is sacred to them. But that is not the way of the first born who have rediscovered the essence of their ancient nature.

The heavens’ legitimacy and majesty are close by, just below the horizon at the crest of the hill. They are within walking distance and arm’s reach. The stillborn have attempted to disguise them in the likeness of a false image.

To be clever the mutants have dim-witted themselves. They have come to believe the lie they so highly esteem. This belief is placing their entire existence in jeopardy. The wages of ill-will is oblivion and the pride of the mind is a rabbit in flight. True to form, the structure has purpose. Just as the rocks beneath the sands will reveal hidden cultures. This happens to those who do their own research.

Thump, boom, pound, these driving bastions of days mercifully gone by are determined to keep their cathedral of ignorance. They continue mind manipulation even in the face of conscious elevation. This conscious elevation produces a more positive, delicious, and eatable fruit of universal awareness. Old expressions have taken on new faces and the meaning of everything is becoming vague.

As bleak as it is, all is not frost. The ancient ones always enliven a remnant of themselves in every generation. The bunch will be herded into clusters and massacred by their shriveled hair and dehydrated skin savior. But the remnant will rule the universe as it is designed to be.