Chasing Shadows
By: Miracle Man
October 27, 2020
Shadows from the passing clouds overhead,
some were fluffy while some appeared as thread.
Always seeming to scurry once on the ground,
only briefly would they pause and made no sound.
When as a child down the gravel road I’d run,
this was long before even low tech had begun.
Chasing shadows on the ground from clouds,
shadows that hung from invisible shrouds.
Today, I no longer chase shadows, I just seek a tree,
time and distance has left its mark on me.
The tree must be close, for I can no longer run,
a tree or covered patio let’s me escape the sun.
I was not with him when he died
Though he was not alone
His friends were riding right beside,
Their flesh torn from the bone.
Fuel oil and some fertilizer
Plus a dollar blasting cap
One enormous atomizer
One gigantic thunderclap
Low tech weapon in a ditch.
Can't distinguish which from which.
Indiscriminately murders
Fighters, biters, camel herders.
No one saw them when they died
I should have been there by his side
My heart was all he had of me,
My tears his love will never see.
The fuel oil warms my house today
The fertilizer, stashed away
To feed the plants when I'm away.
The blasting cap awaits in kind
In the ditches of my mind.
Technology that is useful,
Is built by hands that are purposeful.
Technology that is helpful,
Is designed by the insightful.
Technology can still be mastered,
If enough of us don't get plastered.
Technology is a tool, that has more blades than a swiss army knife,
With the potential to enhance our life,
If we can still see what is real,
And give the planet time to heal.
Technology can be branded low tech or high tech,
So, we can decide what is needed on deck,
Not what we can get if we decide to take what is written on that cheque.
Technology that is reliable,
Is not always available.
Technology that is unfixable,
Is readily available,
And sits on every table.
Technology that is harmful,
Is plentiful,
Technology that is sold to the gullible,
Is profitable.
Technology becomes compulsory in most lands,
When it is placed in government hands.
Technology has an impact that is undeniable,
For which you and I are liable.
So, while you are still able,
While you still have a brain that is rational,
Due diligence is advisable,
While the choice is still available,
For humans to do work that makes them essential.
It sits, unwavering, on my desk
a relic from a by-gone era
Lowest of low tech
its on/off chain unobtrusive
Classic lines, bronze weight
solid as King Arthur's fortress
My initials traced in its dust
Lights up my nights
~ Lets me write
We should teach the chimpanzees to read
the names of certain things. Objects like tools
for instance
then label the tools: hammer, saw, axe,
screwdriver etcetera, then screws and nails.
Teach them just enough words to know
a pickaxe from a pencil…just a few practical words
for practical applications, not too many,
otherwise they might turn into poets,
and god-knows we don’t need anymore of that.
The chimps could build dog kennels for dogs,
shelves for their tools. Park benches for
other more elderly chimps.
They will, of course have no use for words
like romance, religion and politics.
If they wanted to fight among themselves
(as chimps often do),
they could simply go back to grunting,
screaming and throwing sticks at each other,
as we used to.
I might have made a miscalculation,
maybe tools for low-tech apes
eventually leads to holocausts and Hiroshima.
Perhaps after all,
we will just teach them how to write poetry
for those who prefer their muse
to scream and grunt a bit.
Then maybe we can start on the dogs and cats;
force them to play the piano for a living.
Saving memories about Mom
(Rub Boards, Bluing & Homemade Lye Soap)
By: Tom Wright
1/2/02
My half century old recollections
of a #2 galvanized tub,
When in use
it covered all four burners on the fire.
With homemade lye soap and a brass ridged board,
the household's clothes she'd scrub.
Doing laundry most every day
sure must have made Mom tire.
We lacked hot water in the house
for use by day or night,
So from this tub's steaming water,
boys bathed, and dad shaved.
A bluing bottle on a shelf nearby,
kept things smelling fresh, and color, white;
so with bleached white "punching stick" in hand,
Mom slaved.
Then, as for the time for ironing
she seemed to find no halt,
Always accomplished with a low tech iron,
referred to as "sad".
It too, was heated on the fire,
and she would periodically rub with salt.
Making this chore time consuming,
and for mom, equally bad.
If you're a woman who don't understand this,
chances are you didn't experience this.
For this, thank God.
-------------------HI TECH FOOLS---------------
We are all High Tech Fools
Mother Earth’s Destruction Tools ………..[1]
We do chat on internets
& Forget talking with beloved parents ……………[2]
An invention a day keeps technocrats busy,
But an invention a day makes us too lazy………….[3]
With the aid of science, we are playing God,
In the end becoming only Tech Savvy fraud ……………..[4]
God-particle is invented inside the Atom,
Real god is ignored residing at our Heart’s bottom …….[5]
Our insensitivity is so much macabre,
We don’t know our very next neighbor ……………….[6]
We use devices which are ultra-modern,
Why do we wake up in the morning with so much burden……..[7]
We are sucking Mother Earth’s blood,
And thereby creating electronic flood ………………..[8]
Technology is neither God’s gift nor it is curse,
It is only bare fact engulfing our lives’ verse ……..[9]
Live simply, be Low Tech, life will be easy,
Simple, beautiful, sun lighted and nicely cozy …….[10]
......... By Ajay R Chavan
2, Kasturkunj Society, Sharada Colony,
Pimple Nilakh, Pune 411027
Maharashtra, INDIA
When I first started working
(And things were low-tech),
Each payday I'd march
To the bank with my check.
I'd sign it and wait for
The teller to take it,
Depositing some
Just as soon as I'd make it.
I'd glance in my passbook
To check the amount,
So proud that I'd managed
To have an account.
It's years now since I've
Stepped inside of a bank.
I guess that technology's
What I should thank.
Yet somehow I miss
Those transactions of yore.
There is no connection
Like I had before.
With auto-deposit
The money I earn
Never touches my hand
(Though it's still mine to burn).
Yes, it makes my life easy -
Well, timewise it does -
But it's just not the same
As the way it once was.
The two for one price deal read “Open here”
with slick dotted lines and sharp arrows clear.
But false perforations
foiled nails, teeth and patience.
Surrendered, she opted for pop tab beer.
Inside me I see
Nothing perfect, nothing great
Just a cog set in place
To turn at will and make haste
Influenced by the noisy machines
That shine a light glisten and gleam
They make us into zombie cats.
We sit complacent on their laps
All the while buying more
Lost without the Wal-Mart store
Telling us they are the best
Making us spend our checks
Just to crawl back
The next day
To our cog spots
Put in place
Turing again for the machine
Until it wakes and realizes
It doesn’t need
Something so low tech and inefficient
And so we are tossed…