Loving Love

Loving Love prose poem

We are socialized to obsess.
Urban dictionary claiming it a synonym to the lost verb motivated.
Treasure hunters for the GOLD at the end of the not so rainbowed pathway. Cartographers.
Our lives a premeditated meditated analyzed strategic journey,
consulting, “♪ the map, the map, the maap! ♪”.
Doras and Boots to our own demise.
Desensitized to the false doctrines that injects us with the power to empower,
claiming us lords of this earth and lords of our destiny.
Spewing us head first into the modern norm of over thinking.
Befriending insomnia,
the pyramid scheme of the coffee beans.
Over thinkers – over achievers,
simple to digest but the milk of magnesia of lies.
Blindfolding us to the words of the Word.
Blinded by our need to be the puppets and the puppeteers,
forced apprentices to these Braille pads.
A kaleidoscope of pixels;
‘illuminated’ screens the reservoirs of our IV tubes.
Minime-d therapists pumped into our veins.
Young girls fed the thoughts to I-DOLLize love. Becoming the Bratz of the Barbies,
they craft their own idealistic love stories with plastic play houses.
Scribes of their desires;
social media the scroll to their inked leaking minds.
We feast on the possibilities, our brains pushing past the 10%, the high mutating us into the real life “Lucy”.
Xaviers of the monopoly world we call reality,
condescendence our power
and mortality our kryptonite.
Our ideals the deal breakers to anyone stepping beyond the platonic safe zone.
Despising our singleness,
we peer past the now “♪ starry eyed ♪ ”,
professional visionaries.
Picassos of our IDOLized picturesque. Phils of the future.
Our one night, never made it to two nights, the new bae.
Taylor swifting our way through heart breaks.
Never enrolled engineering majors coding the world into binary precision;
leaving nothing to chance, only constants no variables.
Obsessed with love but ignoring Him.
Creating a shrine of the him you’ve fallen for.
Following all the cosmopolitan guidelines to keep him agog,
your focus blurring the bigger picture,
only closely studying the canvas that is soaked with the colours of him and his aura.
Shrinking your world to allow it to revolve around the new “us”.
Your prayers a repetitious plea.
No worship.
Caught up.
Fighting for bouquets as if a marriage proposal seeks the blessing of a few rose petals.
Your life now breathing life into song lyrics.
hip hop,
dancehall, an orgy of genres lip synching your narration.
Your soul ignited with emotions setting your body ablaze,
rearranging the wires of your will, while your intellect justifies the firework like actions of your body.
A username and password required to E-harmonize the vertex of this juxtaposition.
Owners’ billionaires by the need for us to experience the right dose of pheromones and oxytocin.
Your heart beating sporadically in unison to mobile notifications,
notified from the lords that you were noticed by your coulda, maybe, almost Match;
the dot com (.com) engaging you temporarily into a virtual reality,
ingesting anti-arrhythmics
Worshiping the day your present becomes the present.

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