Never mind steel,
We are creating new materials,
Carbon nano-tubes, poly-ceramics,
Twirl a ball above your head, we are
Building elevators into space,
Stringing massage parlours around the earth,
We are engineering ourselves,
Computer worlds and,
Selling real estate, we
Are leaving the old people,
Behind,
Stained curtains and they are,
Walking into forests,
In Japan.
♦photo – nanoda.com, public image♦
evocative short poetry – words move
Hi Kolembo. I would be greatly honored if you would feature my poem “Buttons” in your July addition of “Ten of the Best.” You asked me for an autobiography. Could you possibly use my email address to send me YOUR email address; and I would prefer to send it that way rather than posting in your blog. I cannot see your email address in Blogger, but I know you can see mine from Word Press. Looking forward to hearing from you. (Please delete this comment as well.)
Mary
Thanks, sent email!
Carbon nano-tubes are pretty too. And trees may grow in outer space, like they grow on the side of cliffs or dead concrete buildings
I’m glad your writing and posting again. I love the way you work the words.
Haha..the words aren’t coming as swiftly as they did – the exuberance of internet youth fading somewhat – but yeah, I think I’m back. Was good to visit you – I hope life has thrown in a few goodies!
No longer useful an old eskimo would walk off into the snow and ice, no longer a burden. As I drag my body around, I am slowly stepping into the enveloping mists, to be forgotten and seen no more. Your poem is a grim but beautiful reminder to enjoy what I have while I can.
Kenny, this is so striking. I’m one of them, now, and am facing the questions that come with aging…especially since I have no children to turn to. You have a unique sensitivity to others, my friend.
Poignant, a true warning and beautifully crafted. i especially was touched by “behind stained curtains” and, of course “walking into forests.” I am going right now to follow to your blog. I know your art will teach and intrigue me.
If we’re not careful our technology may soon outsmart us and become the top of the nano food chain
This is lovely prose making for an exceptional read.
I really like where you took this poem: new materials, leaving the old people behind, walking into the forests of Japan. Quite a thought-provoking journey here!
Yes, and they call it progress, Kolembo. Nice tight piece of writing. Good to see you.
Pamela
Just point me toward that forest. A collection of words here that hits like a hammer.
The break with our past is one of the most harmful of the things that industrialization and technology bring about. The old are simply replaced, losing that connection to the reality that their lives and minds bear within themselves. This loss, besides its obvious injustice in terms of treatment, means so much for the evolution (or not) of the human spirit. Your poem is very special for bringing this to light.
..and then we call it progress…sad truth..great closure
The fragmentation of the poem suits the fragmentation of the society to addresses. Nicely done.
This is a poem that sets you thinking. It is strange, I am not usually moved by poems that are anchored on the immediate. I am usually nostalgic. But this moved me.
its progress eh? leaving hte old behind…ugh….to build our elevators to the stars….pointed write man…and good…
Beautiful
Thank you for the visit and comment. Thank you even more for this poem. I love the specific images you chose. They bump against one another yet create an overall picture that is inescapable. Really enjoyed reading it and your “About me” page. Looking forward to visiting again.
“We are engineering ourselves,” Goodbye to steel, rubber bouncing balls, the elderly, our strength, and the stains on our consciousness
And what about forests in Japan? Is this good, bad? Can we keep the baby with the bathwater? Keep our histories with our nuances?
This is striking writing – I can see the elderly, walking into forests………
Reblogged this on noh where haiku and commented:
This piece by Kolembo is filled with such respect that I felt that it, within its entirety makes a perfect piece for “Sunday Trees.”
Hello again (from Raven or Liz) I do something called Sunday Trees. It was started by Isabel of Living In Exile. She has not been around for a while. So Becca of “On Dragonfly Wings With Buttercup Tea (http://beccagivens.wordpress.com/) and I do this because of our love of trees. I would love to invite you to join us. We just put up a photo of a tree or trees or a related photo with a few words or poem. Right now however, I wish to reblog your poem for my Sunday Tree. I hope that it is alright. And yes, I know that I am late. Thank you. Liz
The ending was unanticipated … I thoroughly enjoyed this poem, photo and finding you!
So true, and so well said!
I’ve walked into the forest in New Zealand… though it’s unlikely I will starve to death…
Amazing, I love this poem!
You are so right and it’s frightening.