oh, the irony...
glued
to electronic devices
designed to foster
connectedness,
yet the yawning gulf
between relationships
w i d e n
as a result.
with technology overuse,
far too many become
increasingly isolated.
with lips pressed
against cell phones,
fingertips
tap-dancing
on keyboards
as minutes
elongate to hours;
we grow oblivious
to the world around us:
ringing phones,
ticking clocks,
chirping birds,
loved ones
calling out to us
go unheard;
undivided attention
denied
to acquaintances,
friends,
even family members...
is it any wonder
we misspend time
electronically plugged in?
what has happened
to face-to-face communication?
what a world of difference
it makes
temporarily disconnecting
to r e e s t a b l i s h
the human connection.
What genius is in taking IQ tests,
when cures for cancer rot, decompose unfurled
with Mensans and half-brilliant fools? Digest,
then, that with all the intellect in the world
these nerds from wasting their brains fail to graduate,
and lay aside their intellectual games
(like Rubik's Cube) than mentally just “masturbate,”
to never rise to lofty genius's aims.
If Plato, Newton, Einstein, Beethoven,
or Shakespeare had been content to misspend
their gifts away, then the world of mere men
would long have come to its benighted end!
Therefore, reform your minds, ye half-smart fools;
and test yourselves instead in better schools.
Time for reflection
May I not rue, when life draws to an end,
Invidious, mean words which bring distress
Nor sigh, that precious time I did misspend
On frivolous pursuits of happiness.
Rather let warm benevolence hold sway
And solomonic wisdom guide my way.
As if to bless with daylights warm embrace
You come to me, my love, in hallowed grace
This softness held as purest pleasures speak
Tis of such treasured grail my heart doth seek
Brushed by strokes of love, one's eyes dare behold
Of palette's mingled dreams pray hopes lay told
To rise in hues that must truly speak of thee
From such artist's gifts, desire wouldst surely see
This thirst will not be quenched absent your taste
Nor for less this moment misspend or waste
With willing arms hold close so true this heart
Yet less one soul should bade us ere to part
Take this my love in tribute due
No more than that I ask of you
Old English Sonnet Contest
Sponsored By Janice Canerdy
10/25/2016
The homophobic banker he was penned
That careless fool was found to misspend
He thought prison would be cake
Until he met fat old Jake
Now he has got a hairy boyfriend!
In pre-ghost era of my sowing days,
and long before my crumbling had begun,
my feeble goals sparked insufficient blaze;
the avenue I chose was not hard-won.
I packed a suitcase but misunderstood
the purpose of my journey from the start.
And though I tried to do the things I should,
I needed more to listen with my heart.
Now feeling unfulfilled is what I’ve earned
by carving fate from means with aimless end.
In contrast, some with fervent dreams have burned.
Their minds are set; their time they don’t misspend.
I took the first broad crossroad I was shown,
so paths I sacrificed remain unknown.
For Silent One's Crossroads Poetry Contest