Periodic Table


We've learned to paint this world for what we need.

Identify the blades of grass as summer-green.

Breaking down every lone substance

Into different atoms.

Elements within a Periodic Table

Serve to kill our insatiable greed of What and Why

We feel the world we touch with ears and eyes so otherwise unstable.

Gripping onto the concrete...

The rationale of every Webster word

And techno-blurb that gives our actions labels.

Obsessed with what's on scene

Instead of prying... trying to figure out

The joy we get from reading magic fables -

Seeing true the meaning of our very faction.

Knowing when our eyes do bleed it may involve a far off plea that we don't understand

And not some salty discharge chemical reaction.

Yes... Our Periodic Table

How you take the earth

And redefine it in accordance with our senses.

And so the blind will lead themselves relentless into traffic.

Never know of all the imagery

Contained within a cloud -

If only they could grab it...

For they lack the proper balance, function

That they think they need to "see."

And yes, their retinas malfunction so.

And for that vice alone we're forced to pity those

Who cannot grip the self-defined normality of seeing colors.

But yet can see right past every formality that leaves the concrete-brothers guessing...

A blind man, from our standpoint, should be but a blessing.

Not some fool who lacks the proper tools to understand

Our Periodic Table

Seems to me that we who put the faith in such a place

Are periodically disabled...

And so the deaf

Who never hear a chirp

Are given ugly mini amplifiers on their ears

So that they may at once breathe out through OUR desires.

Little fixer-upper trinkets

That can catch the sine waves of a radio tower

And interpret them for our poor friend who missed it.

Making him feel shamed and without power

That he cannot DO the way we DO.

That his inner tubes do not reverberate to make a noise we've all agreed was never fake.

And so we ask then,

'How can this man live without a groan?

How he must be so alone

For if we fall into that zone

We'd surely bitch and moan

Over losing ways to use a telephone.'

But still... the deaf man walks with no regrets

And breathes a satisfaction out of life that we may never get!

Show me THAT on our Periodic Table!

And pity right the poor dyslexic!

How he may not get my words the way I meant it.


Be able to infer a meaning that EYE couldn't see

And proceed nearest the to exit!

Here I stand with all my senses...

Blind and deaf to all the joys still undefined...

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