I take my soul out of my pocket
and prod it
from time to time.
I know it’s still alive.
I throw it through a plate glass window
and listen to it scream.
It’s a loyal frog who loves me
I heat it up slowly
in its own bubble bath.
It looks like an ugly angry child
with all of its scars,
but it belongs to me.
What does it profit a man to gain the whole world
but lose his soul?
Many have recommended that I get rid of my soul,
but I laugh at them, and pull it out of my pocket and catch it—it’s worth more to me than the whole world.
The soulless will always give the same advice—”get rid of it—it’s like an appendix—you won’t even miss it,”
but they’re wrong.
The soul must be nurtured and abused to grow strong.
Your soul needs to hear music
played from its own heart strings.
The fake world
full of plate glass windows
as strong as a golf ball, struck
by a bad golfer
on a city golf course.
I have broken more windows
than a burglar (by accident, of course)
An old man walked out to me on hole number 13, holding my golf ball
“Is this yours?” He asked me.
Several lies entered my mind (that’s a side-effect of being a fiction writer, but I told the truth because of my religious upbringing)
“You need some lessons. Your ball almost ended my life.”
“How old are you?” I asked him.
“I’ve slept longer than you’ve lived.”
Then he walked home to go sleep some more, I guess.
In prison, they put a man in a box
In the world, they put a man in prison
those invisible bars are real
You can feel them when you are afraid, secure, and know you are doing the right thing.
I wonder what it feels like to escape from prison. It must feel like a resurrection,
like you are born again.
The following things take on a new meaning when you steal your freedom:
Making love to a woman
Eating a hamburger
Driving down the road without a license
And I must say…
Breaking the rules is more fun than breaking plate glass windows with golf balls.
You can really appreciate life, when they try to take it from you.
Then, the police are chasing your Shelby GT500
and they just called in a chopper,
and you hit the go-baby-go.
It’s not your body that they want
It’s your soul
They want to put it in a glass jar without any holes
They’ll piss on it to preserve it
Why should we talk about the soul?
People don’t know that they lost it
They’re not even looking for it
And the soulless who know
are the most dangerous
they’ll try to squash it
they’ll put it in a strangle hold
they’ll say it’s for your own good
or for the good of others
they’ll say the soul is dangerous
because it tells the truth too much.
2 thoughts on “Why do they try to strangle your soul?”
I treat my soul much as you do, but wouldn’t want to live without it…
a wonderfully inspiring piece…
Beautiful or soulful rather.