Showing posts with label communication. Show all posts
Showing posts with label communication. Show all posts

Saturday, March 30, 2013

Social Discourse

Anger reigns, mocks, grows like spittle churning foam
in the backstreets of minds and hearts grown wild,
the post-modern pretense of those beguiled
by belief in a new improved genome
that helps reduce our violence syndrome,
spouting cherished beliefs, language defiled
against contrary others, so reviled,
that reject our views, no credence, no home.

Digital methods leave more to digress -
twitter, facebook, texts, emails, blogs and more
delve deep in views with which we disagree,
if only for the fact of their strangeness.
Might we give our respect and not abhor,
to find a way to see dif-fer-ent-ly.


©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Written as a Miltonian sonnet for dVerse Poets Form for All: The Librarian, the Poet, and the Snowblower hosted by Samuel Peralta

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Turn




Early on you taught me,
     remember.
Your hand, butter biscuit warm
reached out to
feel my shadow
until my face turned to you,
     looking,
tasting your sweet breath.

When we talk,
look to me,
          not there
     - here.

I do,
peering in -
teetering with toes to the edge of
a deep canyon where stars
hide until you bid them
rise.

Green and brown stares lock,
mixing in water colors of
unspoken meaning,
perfections of clarity.

Lips moved,
glasses clinked,
eyes spoke.

     Worlds turn,
     leaves turn,
     so do pages in a family album.

Autumn came,
life left your eyes,
bits of me were lost in
pixel reduction,
hovering between opaque
and transparent.

Walls blur,
furniture mixes,
I am solvent, blended
into my surroundings.

Relative to you, I
can't move from your six,
every contact a mere deflection,
     glancing.

Your face is a reflection in
the windows you stare out of,
or a monitor screen,
a faint glow from
a smart phone
buried in distraction.

Conversation is lean,
the functional passes in
efficient phrasing about
     pickup times,
     appointments,
     and to-do lists

while

I silently ask every part
of you
not your face

to
turn.


©Eusebeia Philos 2013



Photo credit: Photo Pin