Modernity Poems

Lady

Once adored by beholder,
   Soiled doves, fall in no longer.

From garden to minefield,
   Avoidance is justified;
Inamoured, favourably yield,
   Innocence gone vilified.

Once lured by sweetness,
   Penetrated, unable to flee;
Trapped inside glowness,
   Choked, unable to glee.

Memories gone masterless,
   History, halted unspree;
Living dead and throneless,
 

The Signs of the Times

I dwell between two major figures
Where twenty borders twenty-one
A child of age bygone, it figures
What I lived through can’t be undone

I keep on seeing a commotion
A whirl, a trend that leaves me awed
Perpetual flow, mankind’s motion
It’s weird, puzzling, odious, odd

One’s mom and dad aren’t in the picture
YouTube will teach you every trick
By God, the influencer’s

MODERNITY

     Since time immemorial
    reading or by oral tradition
       2+2 EQUALS 4
    modernly with evolution
  I discovered in practice that;
  2+2 equals 5 when I pay bills
  2+2 equals 3 when I receive a salary



PS. LISTENING

Amish, Hasids, and Mormons

A madman pushed me off the track, lucky not much harm
I sat in the Hospital waiting room with just a broken arm.
They handed me a form to fill, 20 genders, 10 types of race -
I tore the sheet with my good arm and walked out of that place.

I walked past a park, a man dropped

The moon casts its silver vault over the ruins of modernity

The moon casts its silver vault over the ruins of modernity,
Where the souls of conservatives and progressives meet in an endless dance,
Of mistakes and traditions, I find myself carried on the wings of a stream of consciousness,
Contemplating the contradictions that define our ephemeral existence.
The progressive, with his heart of fire, steps forward, without looking back,
Embracing

In the murmur of modernity, a disease courses through the veins

In the murmur of modernity, a disease courses through the veins,
A silent malaise, binding hearts and thoughts in heavy chains,
Where no one thinks, feels, or dares to care deeply anymore,
No spark ignites, no spirit ventures beyond mundane chores.
All emotion drifts like whispers in a forgotten dream,
Beliefs eroded, lost, in an unbroken monotone regime,
Each soul devoured

Age And Modernity

Old Spanish home
Compliments with neon lights
Blends age with freshness.

THOSE DAYS

Truly those days were fun,
Little children playing each,
With a fine decorated toy gun,
Life was serious yet catchy;
And we were easily convinced
‘ Sit back, I will buy you Akara’,
Was enough to pacify and evinced.

I can still peep through the silhouette,
Of throwing stones at Mango fruit,
And playing with a plate of omelette,
Those hid and seek games in

Modernity An Open Form

MODERNITY
 place
 & moment
a timeless
anguish
in
a
 supposed
 gathering

fascinating
reality
to enthrall
rendered
 irrelevant

the
 equivalent
 evolves
saturates
with
insipid
unsettling
potency
perpetuates
 as
a
fascinating
messenger

Suffering In Modernity

Our lives have become so simple
Yet stress and anxiety are at an all time high
We’re overweight and depressed
Extremely offended most of the time 

We’re wealthier than we’ve ever been
We have more food than we can eat
We’re metaphorically and literally fat
We can't see our problem, nor our feet

We lack perspective
All of our hardships have been taken

Modernity

MODERNITY
such
a
rare opportunity
significant
&
individual

to
walk through
 history
 so poignant
these
reflections
of change

the tone
 shifts
to
different
connections
to be found
everywhere


potential
&  influence
 borrowed
&  learned
as a
 source
of
inspiration
from
 imitation
novelty
innovation
transforming
oft times
 improving

NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE   using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright

Modernity

Modern artificiality:
    The woman becomes a clone,
    carved throughout.
     Estrogen turns to silicone,
       art abounds...

The Agony of Form

In so many words
Let the beast take form
Let verse arise out of chaos
Let the tides shift
In favour of harmony
Blessed are the meek
Tinged with sweat
They have wrought science from paganism
Blessed are the misbegotten
Holy art thou not?
Implored to act in favour of thy nature
So we children of this new age
What have we in the name of the

Modernity

MODERNITY
bubbles
away
in symbols
adopted
&invented
or borrowed

celebrated
  as  conceptual
embraced
as
mainstream
  in status
impelled
by rational
ritual
in
constant
shifts
  of attention

a diaspora
  culture
of
ideas
 of expanded
consciousness
 perspectives
steeped
  in the
fascination with
the
moment
clamour
for
self
attention

NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE   using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.

The Miracle of Modernity

Art is everywhere, buddy.
Flourishing all around you.
A stimulus maximus.
80 arrows at your heart
All the time.

Yet you don't  feel it.
It's too much.
You're out there.
Somewhere.
You're somewhere all the time.
While miracles pop off all over the place.
Who cares!
You're trying to keep hold
Of your 5 year old.

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