Monday, December 21, 2015

When The News Spins Obstruction of Senses

Sometimes a little piece of me drops
Through into another place and time
Landing in a spot softer, couchier, chair
Where I turn on faux news of doom and gloom.

And there is not the world spinning
But one spinned world convincing of doom
But one spinned world convincing of gloom
Which doesn't fix anything, but frowns upon faces
For gather arounds of one boob tube's programming.

It isn't the end to turn off television
This is the beginning of conversation
It isn't the end to call it a lie
This is recognizing they commercialized
Whenever wasn't it?

With pipedreams and boob-tube feeds
It was the end of civilization on one-way streets
May we circumvent and yet still dream
May we invent and yet still keep all of our hopes alive
For yesterday was programmed

But tomorrow is a dream...
(Futures only ever have been)
Dreamed by you of fantastic possibility,
Of flying machines and miniature computers
Talking watches and 3-d picture shows.
Of test-tube babies and in-vitro creation,
Iteration machines and global communication.
Of digital pizza and high-speed delivery,

The world is made by nothing but dreams, one could argue,
Would you be so kind as to dream a little dream for me?
Would you be so kind as to dream of hope, love, and peace?

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