pornography

Dirty pictures

pornography of weapons

on the page

what they inflict

see the blade?

curve of trigger

barrel’s deep plunge

sphere of grenade

imagine the blood

a tank

a wank

a way to outflank

enemies

fire in the belly

a hole

torn

fabric of life

shorn

covet these

objects

of war

don’t touch

whore

where is

mother love

or

woman’s touch

in such

violence

displayed

Photo by Vladimir Palyanov on Unsplash

The year the solitude went away

20180605_133316

 

Looked up one day

it had gone away

the miasma of nothingness

not nothing: thoughts, private, personal contained

in heads and held stiff in upper lips

worlds secret and interior

projected now on screens rectangular

become

the same, shared, cyberflung

enmeshed sudden, and

unexpectedly

irreversible?

a sunset in London

as I wake to a West Virgina morn

while the sound of

flight 370 ruptures

our membrane of hubris

reminding us

we’re still trapped in beingness

and the addiction, the pornography

in the idea

of post geography

 

This poem was inspired by a wonderful interview with sci-fi author William Gibson “On technology, science fiction and the apocalypse” that I watched yesterday. In it, he talks about witnessing the advent of connectivity – being on a train station in central London where everyone was just standing around in their own thoughts, then, only one month later in the same spot, suddenly every person was  staring at their new smartphone. I’ve borrowed some of his lines, including the title. 

 

Photo: by me, it’s Swiss national day! 1 August.