The television is on.
Juices pump in your brain
as you play god,
blinking lives out of existence.
The perfect fix at the end of a hard day.
Blink.
Human tragedy stretched out on the widescreen -
the chattering fire of cameras and questions.
Loss battles the chance of being heard.
Blink.
The love of your life has gone out
for a commercial break but will be right back.
Don’t go anywhere.
Blink.
History is being made
as numbers jig across the screen
independent of the lives they belong to.
Blink.
Love and lust exchange meanings in the perfect unreality.
Guns and sex melt into each other so fluidly
that you are bored. You’ve seen it all before.
Blink.
The talented Mr.Chuck Norris
just snapped a guy’s neck
with his legs. So cool.
Blink.
howdoyoufeel?whatdoyouthink?whatareyougoingtodo?
he feels nothing but the weight of guilt
and the phantom corpse still cradled in his arms.
Blink.
Some stranger caught a UFO on camera.
He will no longer be laughed at. You will forget
the happiest moment of his life the next time you
blink.
Poverty. Disease. War. Disaster.
The world is going to end unless YOU change it.
Make a tax deductible donation TODAY to -
blink.
The eyes had been starved empty.
The light had faded out slowly
again and again and ag-
Blink.
6 responses so far ↓
ankushthakur // 23 May, 2009 at 4:14 pm |
Since I don’t mind being laughed at, I won’t deter myself from saying a dew words here.
At the first stanza I thought this was about video games, but it later turned out to be TV channels being constantly changed.
So as far as I understood it, it was a snapshot of the common, crass and dry life of a typical urban individual, who has nothing better to do than flip channels in front of the TV and run the day’s events through the mind.
And unless he does something, nothing would change…
Please chastise me by all means if I have missed some “other” sublime interpretation.
Pretty ordinary effort by your standards, I would say, as it was neither very nicely pictured nor had something special to say.
Chittz: Kinda. This was just meant to be a commentary on the contemporary media. And its not all criticism.
Revised some parts. Any better?
ankushthakur // 24 May, 2009 at 4:26 pm |
Well, though it has become more original, as in it offers more variety and makes some more sagacious remarks, I feel it has bent towards over-simplification. The usual joy we feel of working out possible meanings and admiring the deep insight is missing here. It serves everything on a platter: OK, this is a TV, offers same type of sex etc…
I’m not really sure if I was able to convey my feelings right. If this sounds like rant, then please infer that I am confused about how to say it.
In a nutshell, though it is a good enough poem, I have had my mind set towards something like ‘wish you were here’
Chittz: Hm. I’m always curious about why some things appeal to some people and not to others. This informations has been filed at the back of my head.
Hopefully you’ll soon find something you like on this blog once again.
meera sitaraman // 24 May, 2009 at 7:37 am |
it only gets better. excellent narration of the trash that we are glued to. blink.
Chittz: Thank you
abhimanyu // 27 May, 2009 at 7:01 pm |
it is really a very,very good poem. just keep up at it!
Chittz: Thank you.
Mental Mist // 12 June, 2009 at 1:41 pm |
Nice!! the idea is very compelling
Chittz: thank you.
Riya // 13 June, 2009 at 9:45 pm |
I absolutely loved this one. The terseness of the ideas works so well. I only wish you’d used style to reflect the abruptness of your content a little more intently. But still, this one is going to be a favourite.
Chittz: Heh. Thanks. This one can be pushed a bit more. But like all those other semi-written ones sitting on your hard drive, this one should be going on my long list of stuff that needs to be re-written.