Oh, old photograph that hangs
On the factory cafeteria wall,
Everyday enticing me to enter
Your era your environment
Minds to breach
To Reach into your inner feelings.
To focus upon you all standing
At your work benches and machines,
To probe your entrenched way of life,
Minds to breach
While wearing military expressions
Inanimated frozen within your time.
Where an image extracted without pain
Yet all gathered without a single smile.
Slaves to the mystical magical device
An invention for in time one does dwell,
Minds to breach
Waiting for the hooded photographer.
© Harry J Horsman 2019
Categories:
inanimated, image,
Form: Narrative
ZOMBIES
Inanimated, staring at the screen,
a little odd, and writing thoughts I've heard,
the stuff of life, I write just what I mean,
from out of dark, where I get every word.
These things I know, but are misunderstood,
and lifeless is the place you'd have to go
in dealing with it, if you even could,
the place where only dark will ever know.
All blinded by the light of cyberspace,
both deaf and dumb, and dead to life it seems,
I talk to you, though you don't see my face,
and I am lost somewhere among your dreams.
The undertaker fit my neck too tight,
and all I see is eyes that can not see,
here on my moniter, both day and night
more zombies and they're looking back at me.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
Categories:
inanimated, addiction, computer, technology,
Form: Sonnet
ZOMBIES
Inanimated, staring at the screen,
a little odd, and writing thoughts I've heard,
the stuff of life, I write just what I mean,
from out of death, where I get every word.
These things I know, but are misunderstood,
and lifeless is the place you'd have to go
in dealing with it, if you even could,
the place where only death will ever know.
All blinded by the light of cyberspace,
both deaf and dumb, and dead to life it seems,
I talk to you, though you don't see my face,
and I am lost somewhere among your dreams.
The undertaker fit my neck too tight,
and all I see is eyes that can not see,
here on my moniter, both day and night
more zombies and they're looking back at me.
© Ron Wilson Arbuthnot
aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
Categories:
inanimated, life, technology,
Form: Iambic Pentameter