Poetry ~ Coming Apart

The world of my youth
is coming apart.
I am living in a
science fiction novel
where earthlings
thrash about in cyber space,
divided by ancient beliefs.
I am witness to
virtual tweeting tribes 
take up arms and battle
to defend their reality.
However,
if reality is relative
how do we unite around
differing views
and
fake news?
I fear
humanity has been hacked,
the malware activated.
There is no turning back
to the world of my youth
it has come apart.

Poetry ~ A Calamity of Chaos

It was a beautiful thing to witness
the swirling of the world into a new
beginning

No one suspected its arrival
No one was prepared,
save the knowers ~
too few

Not even the
believers expected the horror
of it all

‘Twas the dreamers
the artists, poets, storytellers
those with vivid imaginations
who smiled as they looked on

as one world ended
and other began

Photo credit: Pinterest

Poetry ~ Blurred

I am unable to focus.

It surrounds me,
chasing me from behind.
I plot its path forward.

Over analyzing,
I change direction,
but I’m unable
to elude it.

Immersed.

It is everywhere
and nowhere.
Constant yet elusive.

I obsess over it.
It ignores me.

We have
an intimate
relationship.

It is with
blurred vision
that I seek
and remain
enamored
with
the mysteries
of time.

“We blur the world to focus on it and blind ourselves to see.”
~ Carlo Rovelli, Physicist, on the nature of time