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No part of this poetry should be reproduced in any form without written consent from the author, Joe DiMino, who retains all rights: contact


"The Sixth Sense?" by Joe DiMino

Has the world gone mad?
Decided in favor of

Or perhaps it is I--awakened,
Cognizant of being
Sanely alone;

What greater madness
Than to destroy
The sacred child
That of Art?

Child is creation...
Our Sixth sense--Son of God!

Seeping up
From Id To outer--

A horrid rash of culture
That will receive only
Surface treatment

Same as the pathology--laziness;

Oh how I wish Synthesizers gone!

Orchestras once again
Of strings and brass--

Long for thunder of real drums
Sounding like Thor;

Implore slurs and slides of voices
To notes of gold--

Let us grasp a ring
Worthy or our souls--

Smear hands in paint...
Wipe them our smocks
And jeans;

Toss the electronic
Shutters to the floor--

Worship distant stars
Phenomenal and bright--

Forsaking near ones
Mere flickers of
Contemporary--Artificial Light....

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