What can I do?
When the world seems to be splitting apart at the seams,
and poison runs freely through its streams...
Then there's a current in the culture,
dragging the poor people under,
as sthey become brainwashed by the media and selfish rich...
maybe not so extreme,
but that's how it seems...
Two decades ago, my interest waned
While society thought it was entertained,
By the next horrific news item, the next big thing -
Still, CNN gets the ratings
From the huddled masses
Glued to their TV sets.
What I really want is a good bedtime story -
Just a tale that can ease me into dreamland
And block out the nightmares around me.
I'm drawn in by instrumental music,
And Visual Effects Spectaculars...
Maybe, it's a yearning for magic,
Instead of the mundane,
And I recall reading
My Mom's Library of King and Xanth in the 80's -
Enjoying the word play,
The crafting of mysteries...
These days, I look forward to games galore,
And the crazy tales in store,
When rolling dice,
Not always playing nice.
I doubt that I will revise or edit this piece;
Although I might consider slapping a low-filters warning upon it?
What can I do?
I can read books or watch movies from the library,
Or even upon my computer or my phone.
I can call my friends and family,
Or take time the sift their emails
Out of the detritus that fills my accounts -
So much junk worn down to one-page wonders
From companies and web sites through which I wandered.
It's so easy to peck away at the keyboard,
Or even just copy and paste,
Or maybe even just like and share,
And, with one click, send it everywhere...
That was my original idea, tonight -
To dust off the laptop, and clean out the mailboxes;
Getting some chuckles from so many minutiae.
I'm glad that I reached my Dad instead,
And talked out some of my fears and hopes and more.
He only slipped into lectures, a couple of times in the hour call.
What can I do?
I can write a long rant,
Or maybe this half-poem,
Expressing my health concerns,
And my lack of romance,
And the career dance...
Yes, there are times I wish upon a star,
For a better life, in which I can go far...
Yet, I can sleep quite well at night;
Because I disavow myself
From watching the media fright?
Or, because of the drugs prescribed
For leveling out my bipolar flight?
I prefer not to be whipped into a frenzy,
Yet I worry such blissful ignorance
Can land me as a stranger in a strange land -
Unable to comprehend or understand
How the coddled masses
Dealt us such a spiteful, hateful hand.
What can I do?
What do I do?
I've tried to curtail my Facebook shares,
Recognizing that they're so much gossip,
And their background research is so rare.
It is rare, too, that I spend money on movies;
But that's more likely
Because I have so little money to spend.
I do give up eleven dollars a month,
To cut out the ads from Spotify,
And customize my play lists...
It pleases me greatly that many customers
Compliment me upon my ambient airs.
After that phone call with my father, this evening,
I took some time to publicize my playlists -
If you have Spotify, and are intrigued,
Try searching for the four lists
Whose names start with "JB's"...
Maybe that's a bit of my pride playing out.
I claim to be an introvert,
But I still want to be immersed,
and feel the pulse of culture...
So, despite little to no TV,
And the very rare trip to see a movie,
I keep the radio going,
And I volunteer,
And play my games...
It just seems like small moves
To keep away the boredom, the loneliness,
The hermit's life that I court.
What can I do?
...to feel love,
instead of hate?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment