“What majesty should be” Ransomed kings Criticism to crow about No RSS feeding enslavement Without creativity crossing utility lines
Dotted eyes, black shadows sway in the wind Eviscerating wastelanding tragic dross
Horse powered hamster wheels
The circle run
Bulldozers push, upturning
Severed doll parts, smushed milk cartoons
Fertile lies, careers Clearing ski hill sized dumps With reigns held back Or maybe sold out Through market trends, tickering taint Puppeteers, overworked interns And pimping agents! …Ivanhoes, please I am the terrible one
Sorry if you think this harsh Borders now crossed to bright light Our planet’s temperature like the sun also rises As weeklies (as well as most companies) continue to set
Downsized they call it trend Due preference of a millennial generation not buying newsprint When smart phones pick up Starbucks Wi-Fi signals It takes one faint pressured point to get to craigslist
Stop thinking in terms mechanical There is room for dead language footnotes References to forgotten mythologies Get medieval if you so choose Dropping, echoing pecks without whirring hums Or the bleating squeals sparking old modems After sticky relic taps played without electricity Devoid of cut and paste, and literary nerds Gutenberg couldn’t picture our days Driven by Google search
Windows opening one’s Facebook page
Think about past artists’ shun Censorship, blacklists, ex-patriots In cyberspace remaining chance Digest, you can’t erase this
“Brevity is the soul of wit” Polonius first said it, ironically Shakespeare could not imagine texts and retweets Or a wired earth in which peer artists Encourage creativity, support, universal broadband connections Global renaissance through computer inventions Where one’s key strokes lead to instant feedback Which will not obscure death when broke hearts attack For a single typefacing metal-headed ribbon slapping caste off writer
Interlacing layers your words Adam, so incredible how you write, I love the placement of the technological phrases! Strong and emotional, and that historical realm that our past writers could not even fathom. Incredibly fascinating and the image really speaks in this with your writing. ~ Awesome! 🙂 ~April
Lots of (who would have thought) here Dusus…I worked for the Postal Service for years…watched computers come in, was in the center of automation for years…reinventing itself year, after year…until the point where the world was moving so fast…automation could not even keep up ….another fading industy…the personal letter has gone the way of the printed page and the footnote…..nice write…bkm
Good Lord, Dustus! It’s AMAZING to be back in Your room. I read this feast of words and listened twice. You absolutely blow my mind. Thank You. This is my favourite read. Wow. Okay. Hugs and Cheers and Namaste. 🙂
I want to thank you, Adam, for giving me the idea to post an audio version of poems. Blogger does not make this easy, but there’s just something about poetry that demands a reading, don’t you think? It is truly a holdout from the oral tradition.
That said, I much enjoyed both the depth and breadth of your interpretation of this image. The digital age does so tend to leave us longing for the touch of old tools and the intimacy of face to face conversations. How well you captured that.
That’s ‘progress’ for you! Great poem there Adam and I love the typwriter image you have used for the poem too! I like these lines;-
‘Gutenberg couldn’t picture our days
Driven by Google search
Windows opening one’s Facebook page’
It really rings true. Sometimes there’s much pleasure to be had by the manual simple things. I miss ‘carriage return’ the bell is your reward for finishing off the line 😀 Now its just one continuous line – with
no dings 😦 Good poem – where the past and the present meet!
Started typing on one of these beauties. Mourn The loss of the simplicity. Hours spent in procrastination on web based pages- the curse of the modern writer or want to be writer but then it’s a gateway to other things. Great philosophising my friend x
very thoughtful approach Adam…I recall my Mother sitting for hours, the soft clicking of her “fancy” IBM Selectric muting the voice of an Underwood, long sonce put in the closet…I think we need to slow down now and then
Nobody does stream of consciousness like you, adam, and this is a bit more even, consciousness cranked up a notch, and the stream carefully directed to flush and flow. I love the flashing similes and the all over the place descriptions. An excellent piece rewarding many rereads.
Wow! I love how this piece reads as part rant and part lament. It’s imagery is relentless and breathtaking, making it rife with nuances (love that!). And it’s well-honed and focused in just the right way. Really fine writing! As Hedgewitch suggests, it definitely deserves several readings.
Oooh I love the horse powered hamster wheels…
…. There is room for dead language footnotes…
and the final line is sublime… one (veteran) single typefacing metal-headed ribbon slapping caste off writer to another.
wow…get medieval if you so choose! this piece does indeed take me back to the days when i clunked out poems on a blue and white typewriter! …memories. thanx for the trip down imagination lane when it was so simple.
History of the word and the world, thoughts and passages, how far writers could look back to, how far still to peer into—that past solid though getting more hazed over, the future, ours, of ‘who knows’ coming to us with the speed of meteors. Thank you for such deep yet delightful poetry, same with your reading!