I sit in front of the tv
Brainwashed into thinking
That this monotonous existence
Constitutes living
I feel my mind screaming
For something more engaging
Instead of the useless stuff
Seeping from my screen
Sometimes the only breaks I take
Are just me looking from that screen
To another smaller version in my hand
I feel exhausted emotionally
Unable to engage in many things
But I refuse to give these screens
This kind of power over me
I am a human being
Not a lifeless creature
I need to find something better
To break this habit that's killing my creativity
It's killing my energy
My motivation
My attention span
And I will not have it
Not anymore
I will find something more satisfying
More promising in engagement

And then I wonder
Is this what it was like
When books were first written?
Or is this unique to electronic media?

sometimes
looking at words
on a page
or a screen

there's some mysterious interplay
between the two-dimensionality
of words on a flat plane
and the three-dimensionality
underlying it all

visually deceiving
as if the space
behind the words
is both
an infinite abyss
an undetectable, immeasurable void
   and
a flat formless surface

it's both
   and
it's neither


and somehow
typing on a flat-(ish) keyboard
but pushing buttons
down
into a third dimension
makes the words
appearing on the screen
seem almost 3D themselves
in a connected sort of way
plunging
into the white void
of the blank screen

the keystrokes feel deeper
than i think they really are
especially when i stare at the screen
and let the fingers fly

what sort of illusion is this?!


or are the words
actually
the missing link
that let us peek
to the hidden dimensions
we desperately seek?

sometimes
looking at words
on a page
or a screen

i can't help
but wonder these things

When did our altered
   culture decide
     that WE
       would be happy
         with our little screens
           and such little stillness
             within our lives
               ?

white lace and
fishnet stockings, baby
soft lips and wide
green eyes. she ain't naive,
she's resourceful, using
what God gave her. burns
cigarettes like incense,
just to make dust
fall on the shiny redwood
dresser, float like
ghosts in the air. it's how
she knows ghosts
are real—how she knows
she's real.

Waves of hysteria
crash against my screen
before I flush them
away
with eye drops of
wrath
and a brick with your
name on it

               -Richard J. Treitner
                    2016

"Turn off the television set"
"Switch off the films in your head"
"Disconnect the internet"
"Put away the books you haven't read"

"Wake up and go outside and see,
And stop all this hiding from the truth -
See the world as how it's meant to be,
Sunbathe in the garden; on the roof."

I think I'd rather live in fantasy
(Even if my eyes melt down my face)
From watching films, to escape reality,
Than wake up to the horrors of this place.