#panopticon
*higher crimes and misdemeanors,
the accusations are long and detailed
just like the poems I write
the sentencing, sneeringly sententious and luridly sensational,
your vocabulary confiscated
and imposed upon you a concision (ouch)
write only poetic-succinctly
when I cried out from the dock,
“innocent!
the words own me, not I them,”
the words, my jurors, snickered,
the fix was in,
and the sentence of hard labor,
a bad rap time indeterminate,
spent in a cruel and unusual
panopticon,
a punishment to fit the crime
no, won’t tell you what it means,
a private verbalist’s hell
Jul 4, 2019
Jul 4, 2019 at 7:03 AM UTC
No trees around,
But there are leaves in the gutter
A thousand eyes in every home
& in every eye there is a storm
A Panoptic Design
Prison planet
Web net
Spider eyes glow red
Multi-layered
Multi-players
Virtual seams rip apart every dream
Virtual screams on virtual screens
Blood & circuses
Hive mind & mob body
In every crack there is a hole
& in every hole there is an eye
In every eye there is a storm
Your streets, the sky-not blind
A thousand eyes
A thousand eyes for every home
Digital trap. Don’t fight back
We wake to dream
We fight the sleep
Is there something we are missing?
5- You are alive
4-Go thru the door
3-What is your reality, really?
2-Yes, I’m talking to you!
1- Look up
Don’t look behind.
We are being followed.
Do you follow?
Do you mind?
Jul 2, 2016
Jul 2, 2016 at 3:28 AM UTC