Slowly dying
Despite our existence
What else is possible
How much life span does humanity has in accordance to our attribute
To Mother Nature
We are distracted by entertainment
Blinded by social media
Instead of moral we bleed impurity
High Technology era equals robotic humans
How can we save the world
When we are lost by our own inventories
How could we be proud of our generation
When we are drowning in our own creativities
Who is winning
And how many more are
Slowly dying.
Video poker at the bar
a soothing respite
from Sophomore essays
far from the maddening voices we're
struggling to find
Game's on and--
I miss my dyslexic friend
What do heavy equipment operators
and English teachers
have in common?
football--mostly
how arrogant to assume
after 28 years of Jr. High technology
and remedial reading
I could step into high school English
How much D would appreciate
the ambiguity of Hamlet
or the religious satire
of "The Lottery?"
The stool next to me speaks
"So, where you headed"
"I live here."
"Really? What do you do?"
"I teach."
"No..."
"Yea.. High School English."
"No ! I thought you was one of us dirty old truck drivers!"
"Well... (what am I supposed to say)
...thanks!" (it's nice to fit somewhere)
A journey of love bound with this two love individual,
The missing piece is found by a chance, a high technology,
The ability to reach and connect. A little time is very important.
If this little time can bring them back together that makes
Their love life worthwhile.
The high quality of emotion that linger to the deepest self
Of their being, a trilling sensation of the heart that set
Aside for a long time that never been forgotten. The colors
Of love stay the same blossom to the emotion of the heart.
The destiny guided them to reach themselves again.
The very soul is astonished by wonder, miracles brings
A glorious fantastic beauty of love, welcoming the wonder
It brings.
Take me to your destiny, bring it home to me, a love to last.
Inspired by Walter Van Baal.
© Jocelyn Dunbar
7 February 2018
10:32 AM
Modern Philosophy
Pet Psychiatry
High Technology
These entities become the demigod
We have place our country under it's authority
Father
Son
Holy Spirit
The God our nation crawled after
For protection
For provision
For guidance
Our nation grew up
It was nurture
It was blessed
It progressed
Then at a Opportune time
The Destroyer Of Nations whispered deceitful words in our ears
That diluted our minds
with the thoughts that all our blessing were from the works of our own hands
That poisoned our heart against God
We became un thankful
We became disobedient
We filed away God with all the methodological deities
We erected new alters to worship our new demigod of
Modern philosophy
Pet Psychiatry
High Technology
The blessing of our demigod on our nation are
Destitution
Depravity
Regression
desperation
Salvation for our country is only one step back
Turn back to The God of This countries youth .
Written By Stephen J.Vattimo
October 26 2013
In the days of old
A story told
Found it's way to paper
The spice of life
Or better strife
Neatly born on typewriters
The mysterious deeds and detectives pleas
And facts of sports are given
The small details as big as whales
Reviel the secrets that are hidden
The mind, the facts and a little time
Along with creative splinder
A reporter trying to find the angle
That will make a story bigger
The ancient keys
Of a dying machine
With ribbon and metal letters
A story told on pages that fold
With pictures and adds from sellers
A magnificant machine
That made all words clean
Provided correct the speller
Along with letters
And puncuation as feathers
Communication was much better
A combination of high technology
With artistic values of high quality
A solimnity mixed with wise cracks
And facts
The writers best ability to discribe
A certian act
And the typewriter
With it's standard theme
Letters all perfect punctuation clean
Whenever middle-age recalls youth
with its long, exciting and carefree days:
we remember that we lived them in our own ways;
our parents argued that it wasn't astute...
have they forgotten how they shamelessly lied
to get some romantic kiss before it actually died?
Before the invention of television most folks were moody...
there were only radios and vinyl records to listen to,
so the dreamy heart would sing and not be blue;
amazingly today, everything is digital due to high technology.
Even grandmother admitted of kissing her sweetheart over
a few Strega Liqueur drinks before falling face-down on the lawn;
she didn't get caught and that secret has remained with her
until now and blushing she tries to smile, remembering that frown.
Whenever middle-age recalls youth as being innocent and free of all woes...
it may surprise you how it went hand in hand with progress;
in the sixties, Rock & Roll was considered evil and scandalous,
but our frantic moms adored Elvis for his attire and gentleman's manners.
* Strega is an Italian Herbal Liqueur
Translation: The Witch's Liqueur
If expensive gifts weren't a must,
the Holiday stress would be less felt;
think for a minute of no presents
being given to folks of all ages...
wouldn't it be taken as an offense?
One thought will come quickly
to everybody's mind whose focus contradicts
what Christmas really means;
only its true meaning will make us fond,
scolding us of all the wasted energy.
Childhood was an exciting experience,
waking up on Christmas day with dreamy eyes,
and find lots of toys next to our bed;
just imagine how brats would have felt,
seeing only one present on the messy carpet!
In this high technology age of sour feeling,
kids expect more sophisticated gifts with a hefty price
and they will immediately toss aside those not to their liking;
even having the guts to complain to their parents,
who thought they were doing something nice!
Let's take the trivial jollification out of the Holidays,
not the spiritual one, which is a pure joy to share...
to confirm the scope of the real message
of what Christmas really means to people everywhere,
whose thoughts are turned to the birth of Jesus!
Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci
It's a thoroughly amazing creature
of the almighty high-technology,
this high-end computer with magical
and awesome techno-capability.
It conquers distance, it shrinks time and space
with mind-boggling, lightning velocity,
sending oceans of images and words,
sights and sounds instantly throughout the world.
Anyone anytime anywhere, in a way,
is but a few easy mouse-clicks away.
But it seems this gadget of real wonder,
in weird ways, has now become our master;
we're forced to seek new needs for its uses,
this tool now makes the user's excuses;
It spews, for our mental indigestion,
streams of print-outs called raw information
we glamorize as knowledge explosion,
presumed synonymous with education!
The desert lies beneath the sun.
The sand dunes sculpted by the wind
semi permanent but each one
moves stealthily as you will find.
They move on imperceptibly
and change the contours of the land
You can’t be sure where they will be.
This travellers must understand.
If not then they will surely die.
The desert is a hostile place
but sadly foolish men still try
They disappear and leave no trace.
The desert keeps its secrets well
it knows their fate but will not tell.
They say whole armies have been lost.
Who’s bones still lie beneath the sand,
their families left to bear the cost
The toll the desert can demand.
And travellers still die today
despite their high technology.
They cannot always find their way
amidst the ever changing sea
of sand dunes moving fluidly
The desert still demands its dues.
As it has done historically
the desert wins it cannot lose.
Beneath the sun the desert lies
accepting each new sacrifice.
13-Oct-07
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