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RR
28th September 2006, 09:15 AM
Spectacles

- Sridevi


The towers were needled by a flying God
He took the form of burning fire to penetrate
The pencils started crumbling like bitten ones
Lives on windows, like bees looking out side.

A view in shades of morons of screen
The lens going to the heart of the matter
Enlarging everything except the minds
Moving in style forward and backward.

The viewer ate his breakfast, lunch
Had discussions with his friends, family.
Had fun otherwise as he was watching
A show, a live drama, rare of its kind.

Pain reaches only when it affects the body
Visions are only secondhand knowledge.
Used to much more terrible stories on the
Big silver plate, this is nothing, they thought.

Waves of suffering floating in the air,
Unable to reach the human heart
Went back to the place of origin
Failing to get inside protected area.

Sheltering its sanity from the box inside the house
The mind has developed techniques of survival.

pavalamani pragasam
4th October 2006, 03:21 PM
:clap:
The message: the pervading insensitivity of the modern world....a syndrome of ultra lifestyles....a malady affecting the 'civilised' society.....an odious disease reaching epidemic proportions, thanks to the small screen!

Querida
5th October 2006, 09:03 AM
you poem has so many layers...just your expertise at the word selection is enough to make one pause
hence the idiot box...