there is this fear
that haunts me. it comes over me
each morning sipping coffee from 220 feet; like
a spastic eyelid trying to focus
on the world in its
naked truth. so wanting to scope it out for what it is;
with what remains of my analytical sense before I see
myself just a mirror image of those
misguided fools down below.
they walk aimlessly drinking in the
words falling from above. obliviously moving
to the cadence of a city on chaos. and another sip, sucking up
time enough for my hand to stop shaking and
rest in the mist of this habitual insanity. an insane
myriad of subjective and objective phrases
falling into the shadows
of trees and park benches where the homeless
gather them up, carting them off,
waiting twilight when with words they make their bed,
laying their head to dream on print of empty promise - and souls
without hope left, stagger to the gutters
baptizing their worthlessness with piss one last time
before sentencing them to the underground.
few still notice any usefulness
of letters set to type, but only to complete that last section
of yesterday's crossword or to fire up a heated discussion
at Tuesday night bridge with the boys; all in all
not a bad lot for breathing in 80 years of this city, (we all should see
such a day). but this new
class of twitter, they
have little time to ingest value
from any truth or lie presented, puncuated
in paper or plastic, as instant news only needs
bandwidth and buyer of time. and this leaves
only god knows, the same condition (that condition)
our fragmented un-human humanity, unaware
of the real fallout all around us. thinking the delivery mode
of madness really can change
something larger than self - and while I keep puking
out parables from a skyscraper, youths superiority
is skyping our demise from a street cafe. the only difference
being they pay extra for coffee flavored, while I
still sip my watered-down folgers expecting
something new to excite me....
bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011
Posted for One Shot Wednesday: Where Poets and Writers Meet
I'm with ya in drinking that coffee, but I'm at least away from that chaos of the cities.
ReplyDeletePrayers for your husband and you today.
Magnificently shared. Powerful depths, layered like the city streets you observe, looking out, looking down. Truly seeing the world hidden there.
ReplyDeletekeep on puking out those parables and enjoy your folgers...therein lies simplicity depth and understanding
ReplyDeleteSuch a bitter irony in this descriptive "fall out" of our progressive society! Quite sad, eh? A fascinating piece!
ReplyDeleteI am glad I took the time to sip this post and not spastically click, click, click this little black mouse. If we all would head for the balcony and sit long enough(instead of twit long enough)to drink in life like watered down folgers. Your parables do not have the smell of gastric juices, by the way.
ReplyDeleteA wonderful and thoughtful write.
ReplyDeleteIt's sad to think that print may become obsolete. I love your expression of the grief. You write beautifully.
ReplyDeleteThis is a powerful, powerful write.
ReplyDeleteYour feelings really come out in this one. Excellently done.
ReplyDeleteYes..here is your metaphoric voice developed to its fullest, layering in meanings on top of images and a view of America today perhaps on the cusp of something else as she always seems to be. Wonderful. Gay
ReplyDeletewhat a beauty, what a beauty.. loved every word. powerful, deep & really lets the reader in
ReplyDeleteAn excellent one, bkm. Your metaphor in the first two stanzas especially so powerful and layered, I read every phase twice for the sheer beauty of it, though the poem is not about beauty, but rather the change without sense or respite we endure these days. "...our fragmented un-human humanity, unaware/of the real fallout all around us. thinking the delivery mode/of madness really can change..." <--Great line.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, I felt every word was chosen carefully.
ReplyDeleteI like it.
Thanks
Barb, so many wonderful lines in this, life has changed dramatically for the youth of this world. Beautifully written.
ReplyDeletePamela
This is a wonderful social commentary. Loved it.
ReplyDeleteJust lovely, very great write and I sense a similar sentiment...cheers for sharing.
ReplyDeleteImagine the wonderful story one would have were it possible to gather up all those words littering the sidewalks and subways of the city. Love this, bkm.
ReplyDeleteWow, I could really feel this one. Very powerful. Once your poems start, they unfold so nicely, and they stay strong throughout. This is great stuff.
ReplyDeleteintense, powerful, poignant. such an interesting view you describe from your perch; and one mirrored around the country and world.
ReplyDeleteNow, I do like my favored coffee, but love to sit and read. Hate twitter and don't even text much. I loved the line " youths superiority
ReplyDeleteis skyping our demise from a street cafe." brilliant. :)
Love the way you did this, from the 'spastic eyelid' to the youth flaunting their skype. Brilliant comment on the state of things.
ReplyDeleteHoping all went well today...
Very powerfully expressed. Observed close enough to express the chaos in an intense way. Wonderful portrayal!
ReplyDeleteThe lines that made me read those again!
baptizing their worthlessness with piss one last time
before sentencing them to the underground.
Hugs x
I loved reading this .. I might belong to the class of people you talk of here or may be i am misfit every where .. my heart was connected to these lines ..
ReplyDeleteI'm certainlyt there with you Barbara, not only because these lines have a deeply personal meaning to me this week. "Class of twitter" yes, it gets sad when people don't understand the old fashioned pen and pencil...but I amongst that horde who find inspiration in the daftest places
ReplyDeleteOf all the lines of this wonderful poem that fascinated me, the only that gripped me was "puking out parables from a skyscraper." Those few words contain distance and separation, doubt and compelling need.
ReplyDeletethey cannot stop the words...only we can
ReplyDeleteand we won't !
Peace, hp
Your range, Barbara, is really astonishing. To go from the vertigo of the balcony view of life - itself a specie cultural remove which is also vantage on the times -- to recognizing that down there yet somehow above that height of self is a manner of communication which may be challenging the entire existence of an observing self -- That's a potent and dead-on observation I so agree with.
ReplyDeleteThese are the lines which nail the cross for me:
... thinking the delivery mode
of madness really can change
something larger than self - and while I keep puking
out parables from a skyscraper, youths superiority
is skyping our demise from a street cafe.
Not with a bang, but with a tweet ... Fantastic work, Barbara ... Brendan
This is an excellent poem, bkm! I found myself nodding my head the entire time. The idea that with increased modes of technology we may actually be losing connection with ourselves and each other is a right-on message. (And thank you god, you didn't tweet it!)
ReplyDeleteI was particularly struck by the same passage that Brendon quotes. And what I like about the ending is how we're all implicated, not simply youth, in the seeming mass madness.
In the end though, what drives this piece is not simply its "message," but its delivery. Some fantastic imagery happening here.
Wow this was a real thought provoker. So much meaning and depth in your poem. Ill have to read it several times over. I was captivated from the very start. Thank you for sharing your words, they are heard!
ReplyDeleteListening to Leonard Cohen sing 'Hallelujah' as I read this, followed by U2 with 'Everybody Hurts'...and your words leap from the monitor 'page', wishing they were on a book held in my hands, a page turned rather than scrolling down to some bottomless pit of megabytes, hearing you say “while I keep puking out parables from a skyscraper"…this is so full of naked truth Barb, so filled with the reality we have become. Once again, par excellence my friend.
ReplyDeleteVery intense from the observer's point of view- I tweet, facebook, and blog...therefore I am. All the while, the world crumbles around me. Your words are absolutely raw truth.
ReplyDeleteThank you all for your wonderful comments, for some reason I have always seen myself as an observer, though particapation is needed to fully live and experience. Writing - its modes have evolved over time but it appears that even at warp speed there is always something lost in its translation....Happy Wednesday everyone...bkm
ReplyDeleteoh my - what an essay! I love every line of it. Intensely stated and the way I read it aloud brought out a superb bit of dry humor, (dare I say cynicism?) that brought a smile to my face as I sit here sipping on my own cup of water-down folgers.
ReplyDeleteYou should submit this to the editorial section of your local paper...at the very least it will add to the bed linens of some poor homeless person (so sad.)
Your skyscraper parables simply cannot be compared to puke, lovely as they are and so intune to what you feel... I enjoy Folgers...
ReplyDeleteoh i love this one - excellent capture of such an emotion filled moment with all the sadness and depth...they walk aimlessly drinking in the words falling from above...wow!
ReplyDeletePowerful and beautiful.....
ReplyDeleteSuch a deep and thought-provoking piece. It's left so many ideas in my head.
ReplyDeleteI just had a coffee meeting with a colleague who, like me, is equally well-versed in the latest technology. But we knew we wanted to meet in person. To hear the cadence in each other's voice, to watch each other's facial expressions, to smile and laugh in unison. It's an irreplaceable energy to spend real-time quality time as opposed to posting emoticons. I hope we never forget this...this warm intimacy in being in the same space, making eye contact, connecting in person.
ReplyDeleteSomething about this poem agreed with the sound of hail falling outside my window as I read through it a few times. Your focus on minimally intuitive automatons passing from view was beautiful in the way you built the poem out of despair tinged with hope for the greater truths somehow overcoming such inertia. I couldn't help but admire your language; the flow of the poem suits the subject matter perfectly. Fantastic poem though you have now condemned me to a night of introspection as I think about your take on humanity! Thanks for a great read. I love coming across poems so loaded with ideas to chew over.
ReplyDeleteHope all is well & take it easy.
crb.
BKM, this poem is captivating. I loved it! Well written! :)
ReplyDeletetaking in your words, closing my eyes, remembering the aroma of freshly printed ink on paper, knowing that 'today', instead, i'm inhaling the hum of electronics...you touch the hearts of many who so long for the words we need to carry us when we can no longer walk...so taken with your writing, i've lost myself within your words...sipping on maxwell house instead of folgers...there's nothing like a view from above...thank you for 'fear of falling' amazing how much depth there is to be found at 220 feet up...
ReplyDeleteI have goosebumps....Bkm....this is raw,powerful,and tender as well....progress.....seems to be regression in so many ways. Love this piece, it speaks to me and from me as well.
ReplyDeleteI do believe all the things I love about this piece have been stated, which shows how you've hit upon a nerve.. a true mark of a thoughtful, talented wordsmith. so haunting in its truth ~
ReplyDeleteThe power in your words just stuns me. The images surrounding the homless and their word-pillow are especially evocative, Barbara. This is one of the best poems I have read recently.
ReplyDeleteCool persona in this! The speed of words is not a mark of their worth-- yes, truly.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written poem that makes one reflect where we are heading towards.
ReplyDeleteComments before noon are not my forte but I have to work at noon so you get the not so best of me.
ReplyDeleteA lot of layers here...really makes the gears turn. "the cadence of a city in chaos" really stuck out. The whole poem seems at war with itself in a way. I like it when I have to think...thank you for the read :)
dear barbara,
ReplyDeletethere is an army of angels surrounding your husband, their wing spans encirling him with pure love, hope and the power to heal...
like
ReplyDeletea spastic eyelid trying to focus - great line BKM
I do like your work, I have to say. Felt you could have condensed this a little, but it's good stuff to my eyes.
Warmest Salad
Luke
i read the poem, i read the comments, i read the poem..wow...another great write here..top stuff pete
ReplyDelete