Posting once meant sending a letter
Written in cursive, observing good form;
Decency good - politeness much better
Both mindful and kind, was most people’s norm
The internet came with lightning bolt speed
And missives, then dismissives sped about
The craft of writing, soon began to bleed
And Johnson’s words* became a lost redoubt
Soon all could chat alone, with ‘friends’ worldwide
A foamy blather, that soon turned cruel
As politics dilated our divide
And set us, verbal swords in hand, to duel
We fight and hate for ‘likes’ - and our pretenses
We **** our souls with “panem et circenses”**
©2018 C. Green
Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 12:26 AM UTC
A large and ponderous, flightless bird
Was what I pictured of ‘ennui’
When first I read that warning word
In retrospect it’s less absurd
That self - created lethargy
Is like a ponderous, flightless bird
Boredom’s not a dream deferred
It is a state that you must flee
Be thankful for that warning word
One mustn’t let repose begird
Your ***** life, or else you’ll be
Much like a ponderous, flightless bird
Get out, and farther, from the herd
And risk the dangers to be free
Go boldly and defy that word
The choice is yours, you’ve no doubt heard
Part warning, yet therein a plea
To banish ponderous, flightless birds
Let action be your favorite word
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 5:42 PM UTC
Were science to again visit
The topic of race in humans
Like mice, like bugs, like snakes
Findings would first be specious
Then suspicious, then delicious
Finally mundane
Were race to ever visit
Science and its arched eyebrow,
Flasks would boil indignantly
Mixers would cloud the water
Paradigms would wriggle
Then die
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 1:12 PM UTC
The close trimmed whiskers on these faces in the crowd;
ivy on Jay Gatsby's wall.
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 1:10 PM UTC
In the oppressive Shanghai hospital heat
My eighty year 'young' mother
Looks without speculation,
From her one good eye
The strokes have left their mark
What is the character for senility?
"I have to go now Ma; home to Mei Guo"
"Yes; hurry, or the Japanese will arrest you"
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 1:06 PM UTC
"That'll never happen to me" we mused
Casually and rarely in youth; super, impervious
To fate and random chance
To the ravages of time and other clichés
The cautionary lives and deaths,
The sad and arcane litany
Of misadventure
And made for TV movie diseases,
Like fables from some outer darkness
Decades pass and the news is nearer and nearer
Dearer and dearer
The surprise of learning about so many friends'
Mortality.
The odds have an ugly way of catching up
And staring you down in the mirror
"I hope that'll never happen to me" we pray
Earnestly and often as we age.
Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 1:18 AM UTC
Times past, our driving word was ‘could’
As in we could do this or that
To help the world, to do some good
Then, strong ideas asked if we would
Let them then, step up to bat
Respect was asked, when we used ‘could’
That this meant work, we understood
And some attempts fell fairly flat
Yet help we did, and did some good
That fashion’s out, replaced by ‘should’
Imperative, we’re spoken ‘at’
Time’s passed when arguments have ‘could’
One must comply, it’s understood
By those who dictate online chat
Now ‘only we’, can do some good
And half the people see falsehood
When wrapped in hate, ideas are spat
It’s hard to see this do much good
Perhaps we should re-visit ‘could’
Cliff Green 2017
Oct 2, 2017
Oct 2, 2017 at 12:41 AM UTC