Poetry in Obsolescence

The sadness,
….For ‘not caring’ –
For such a long time,
A Time which seemed
To go on forever…

It was everything
And nothing
at the same time

People do nothing.

People laugh,
And stare at the
“idiot box”,
This is what [the tv set]
Was called,
When I was
“growing up”

…Which, Perhaps,
in fact, I don’t think
I grew up much at all..

As.. to grow up,
Like a tree
Requires freedom,
Freedom
Of thought
Space to breathe,
Make your own
Choices..

They wonder why
so-called generation
Whatever
doesn’t care,

What a profound
Effect..
Those formative years
have on our
opinions,
And cares

They have
Space,
And all the
Freedom…
plus more,
But ravaged by
A society, which
preys upon them,
And Us
With incendiary
notions,
dumbing us down,
And even worse

Oh, my..

As a child,
Entering into
Adulthood –
The world bombards –
Is it all “Too much”
I wonder why –
People cramming
info down
our throats..

(Only, ever for
money..
Ode to the
commercial joke.
The system rules,
Yet, the few
creative
ones,
Are Awake,
Yes.

Then, Save those few,
Those wonderful few…
Who I admire,
When they are shot at,
(I want to cry)
What a world
We live in,
It’s grim
Beyond belief
Beyond words…
At times.

So, Back again,
Hurting too much
To look –
To feel
To trust,
to believe
We long to see
To touch,
To heal
Indeed.

And to “see hard”
those little facts
Which they are;
Maybe of the worst,
most criminal things,
But facts only
they were.

Then again,
It wasn’t clear,
Senstional is not shocking
Only dumbing,
maybe numbing..

Poetry is old hat –
I like that..
The freedom of verse
As Dali Spoke,
Dont bother yourself
Over modernity…
But perhaps, for something
‘Real’
🙂
We can be awakened,
In the most simplest
of Things
That’s why I love being
Australian,
And a citizen
Of the world.

Indeed, we
are Blessed.

Pick apart the pieces
For yourself,
Being “here”
Is good enough,
Calm and precise
And wide awake
Is “here” right now –
And that —
Is Enough.

Oh, I want to fly…!

Be careful of
Humour…
Your worst enemy
Can call themselves,
a friend
We’re all installed
With a radar,
And that,
Is instinct,
Sharp as a razor

Sharp enough,
It must be
Unless..
You let your senses
Be numbed,
And dumbed

And move about in the
erotic world of illusion
enthralled by it all –
Soap and fiction!
That, is indeed
hysteria……..

My friend,
Stand Tall,
It’s only pride
that comes
Before a fall
Rather, Truth –
As much as it pains
Comes round
and carries
Us Home.

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~ by Teena Davidson on July 5, 2009.

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