Description: this poem was inspired by a random walk taken. in it, I also incorporated a previous entry (then, a prose piece) into one of the stanzas.
thoughts, anyone?
Assortment:Sights n Sensations -------------------------------------------
i.
Even nature is not spared from
synthetic beautification -
Snip
Chuck;
Trim
Shape
And the loss of humanity
adds to the bulk of social costs.
ii.
Feet scrape, wearing away
the reconstructed walkway,
as the present is left to
conjure its
imagined past that
holds no memory
of weary feet that once walked
the same ground.
iii.
This generation knows nothing
of history beyond
hollow words
laid out in paragraphs
detached from its
contents.
iv.
"One people, one nation,"
chorused religiously by a group
where difference is
curtailed,
in the pursuit of
complacent homogeneity.
heads propped up to face the world, only
to slump back into
the depths of despair.
they watch the world go pass in
definite shapes and lines of almost
perfect symmetry.
yet,
their figures constitue a mere blur in the
backdrop.
and so,
time after time,
they take a step
back
to resume their banished positions amongst
the semi-living.
vi.
Does anyone read
between the lines
of random strokes of the pens
(behind bus seats,
toilet doors
and weathered benches)
that bleed bloodstained ink
from wounds that
go unnoticed?
vii.
in this ever-bustling city
consumed by static moments,
who will pause long enough
for the vibes
of the art of life
to seep in?
Wow! a very powerful piece and wondefull talent you have there m'dear! gotta say it gets you thinking, and questioning yourself as an individual like: what am I doing to help this world? Am i taking notice...maybe if we did all stop our commericalised lifestyles we'd take a look around and think...my god...how beautiful this mother earth of ours really is! and how do we treat her?!...disgusting to think about somtimes... I hope many more people happen upon this poem! keep it up leigh x
well lets look at this one holy freaking cow. 1. I like the synthetic beauty, I view that in the natural sense but as a social template as well. It reminds me of being in the city and how people try so hard to add nature to it by laborously injecting natural things into an unnatural setting, it seems like a constant uphill battle. 2. the tone becomes more saddened. you never know what happens in a place, I think of old houses and the ghosts of the past left in them. 3. another powerful stanza, who does write history the winners of wars?, missing from it the honor to those who have lost the fight, the sacred geneology of family history, and heroes unrecognized. Even cultures seems to be sucked in by new cultures losing its potency to a new society. I'll leave the rest, I dont want to hog up the whole screen but this poem is elaborate, beautiful, rich in words. It made me think and feel in ways I hardly do. excellent job, mike
So its a combo of things. I've done the same thing. Sounds like a lot of questions/thoughts I have on my mind- or our world today heh. You always seem to have interesting writes that fit well together. Random topics and images- it's quite refreshing.
"ii. Feet scrape, wearing away the reconstructed walkway, as the present is left to conjure its imagined past that holds no memory of weary feet that once walked the same ground."
I spend a lot of time in historical locations, old roads, railroads, abandoned buildings. They somehow force me to slow down and look. The areas "left to rot" somehow retain a quiet majesty that seems to bond me to an earlier time. The places that have been reconstructed or "tourist trapped" seem to lose that. I guess what I'm saying is that you're perfectly expressed, something I felt for a long time.
Submission Name: Assortment:Sights n Sensations
