How close we are now, your face on my screen, My arm seeking your back, A kiss, a pout, a thousand gestures, Typing texts with wide smiles and staring the screen in hope to never end the moment, Miles apart yet so close that the warm breath reaches as you exhale or at least the sound of it, How gorgeous these inventions are making lovers lives easy, sighs cut to half, tears reduced to zero.
I thank that human God who invented the phone, And glory to all those shadowed by the mythical ones.
No Phone, No phone, No phone's today you have to put your phone away No looking down at screens all-day You have to put your phone away Look up, look out, engage, be free Without your phone now you can see
THESE GADGETS I DESPISE TOLD I NEED THEM TO SURVIVE AS THEY ARE GETTING FLATTER SO IS OUR MOOD WHERE IS THE INSPIRATION NATURE EFFORTLESSLY SHARES YET DEVICES MUST HAVE ONE MILLION FEATURES TO CAPTURE OUR ATTENTION! FOR ONE SECOND A CHARGE OF LIGHTNING WOULD CAUSE ME LESS PAIN YET WHERE IS MY APOLOGY? SORE FROM THIS TECHNOLOGY IN AWE OF THIS ENVIRONMENT STILL, IT'D BE AN HONOUR TO BE STRUCK BY YOU. MOTHER GAIA
Empty pleasures, too many options and choices that are actually turning us backwards. Looking towards more and more gadgets or material 'goods' for happiness can make you feel so empty. It cannot fulfil what the natural world was made to do.
laying in a bed of wild flowers in a clearing in a wood calms me a gentle breeze brings the scent of the flowers cleansing me the silent sound of the wood awakens me and a flap of a bird, the cry of an animal heightens me sunlight breaks through the leaves to enlighten me and peace washes over me THEN the music from my phone disturbs me
people switch their bones and lick each others' flesh
they ask questions as to why nails aren't pink when it isn't
they laugh when **** isn't as loud as the ones from horses
before these tabs came it was the sky that enjoy stares as if eyes know battles between busy stars
before these batteries came people sit too close to warmth from fire while their teeth
enjoy the silence that munch meals just before bed time alone very alone.
I am thinking this poem of mine is an investigation into whether we have lost the things that made us whole. What should we blame it on? Us or the idea of us? I simply used the phone to check this thought of mine out.