manmade gods
Pixelated People
Images appear
every day and night;
I look but do not see
the pixelated sight
of flesh that vegetates
in bombed out homes,
and the calcined white
of a million femur bones,
Smoke choked yellow skies,
sunlight without shade,
moonlight without solace,
and gods that are manmade.
Silent pixel children
whose huge sad eyes
and thin husk of skin
never feel the feet of flies;
Resigned young women
waiting to be resold
shriveled brittle elders
empty, silent, cold;
Pixel justice is revealed
to every sex and age
according to the canons
of fear and hate and rage
By talking pixel heads
selling stale ‘Breaking News’,
beer, and sex and drugs,
and biased, specious views.
And yet — despite true lies
or images that decieve,
I listen, look,and hope;
but rarely can believe.
This entry was posted in Essays on América 3, oligophilia, philosophical essays, poems and tagged Abraham's hate filled children, breaking news. talking heads, collateral damage, Islamic civil warfare, Libia, manmade gods, social media, Syria, Yemen, [pixels.