Screens

Social media, the internet, and technology are great,

But now we live our lives in a world of screens;

Big ones, small one, even ones we wear.

But in this interconnected world have we forgotten how to care about anything but our screens?

It’s gotten quite obscene the way we no longer interact with each other.

The beauty of the world around us goes unseen,

While we like, retweet, and react to the latest meme

or demean the latest target of the cyber gestapo for daring to go against the established flow.

We’ve become so addicted to our screens we’ve become afflicted with maladies such as text thumb and neck.

Heck, it’s even affecting the way we sex,

From sexting to Netflix and chill.

Our society is ill,

And the only remedy is to put down our devices

And treat them like the vices they’ve become

Before we all go blind, deaf, and dumb,

Numb to everything but our screens.

Instead of looking something up, use your memory.

And if you want to communicate with people then don’t hesitate.

Call them or even better,

Write them a letter.

Stop swiping right, go out and enjoy a night on the town,

Before all the clubs shut down.

As for me,

I’ve had my fill of screens

And will do more to enjoy the analog world.

If you know what I mean,

Then put down your screens.

Ya feel me, dog?

Boxes

Check here for White,

Here, here, here, and here for

Black, Asian, Latino, and Native American.

Check here, here, here, here, and here for:

Male, female, trans, nonbinary, and agender.

Mark this box if you’re into your same gender,

This one if you’re into both,

This one for nether, this one if you’re into all genders,

And this one if you’re straight.

Check this box if you’re a liberal,

Here if you’re a progressive,

And here if you’re a democrat.

Here if you’re a republican,

Check here if you’re a conservative,

Here if you swing libertarian,

And here if you’re an independent.

We’ve become locked in these boxes,

Assigning roles to ourselves and others based on nothing more than the identities we’re born with or later choose.

I don’t mean to disrespect anyone or to confuse.

Having a place and community you feel safe in is great. But there’s no need to verbally bludgeon and abuse those we disagree with.

We’re so quick to demonize the other.

Have we forgotten what our mothers taught us:

Do onto others as you would have them do onto you.

We’re so much more than the boxes we’ve checked,

So, stow the hate and identity politics insanity

Before we’ve wrecked the one thing we’re all trying to protect:

Humanity.    

An Ode to Physics

Physics is the poetry of motion.

Apply a force (F) to a mass (M), and you’ll produce an acceleration (A) every day, per Newton’s Second Law.

Once in motion, that mass will have kinetic energy, per K.E.= 1/2 M V^2, where V is velocity.

See, physics is the conductor of the cosmos, per Einstein’s Field Equations, which I won’t list here for the sake of those of a less science persuasion.

It’s the pied piper of particles, master of the ocean’s motion via Newton’s Law of Universal Gravity (F= G [M1*M2/ r^2], where G is the gravitation constant and r is the radial distance between the masses.

Physics is the destroyer of worlds, the cracker of the atom per Einstein’s Theory of Special Relativity (his famous equation E=MC^2).

Physics lays bare the heart of the universe.

I don’t mean to geek, but we are all children of star dust.

And once we shuffle off this mortal coil, we will return from whence we came to continue the great comic dance.

For the First Law of Thermodynamics states: energy can neither be created nor destroyed, merely transferred or converted from one form to another.

From one star brother to the another, the beauty and elegance of reducing the universe to a series of equations has no parallel in heaven or hell.

It’s the music of creation and makes my heart swell, the ringing of the universal bell and knowing exactly for whom it tolls.

Word to your mother, there’s no limit to the wonders physics can produce with a few formulas and numbers.

Love Thyself

Two-fifty, two hundred, two-fifty again.

I’ve struggled with my weight most of my adult life.

Either I’m stuffing my face with everything in the place, or I’m working out all day every day, trying to get thin.

But I know now I must love the skin that I’m in. Whatever that is.

I love my belly, regardless if it’s stretch-marked with rolls like Buddha, or a compact baby six pack.

 I love my thighs, whether they be wondrous or of the thunderous variety.

I love my calves, be they dandelion-thin or bulky like watermelons; my arms, be they string beans or Christmas hams; and my chest in all its asymmetric mess.

I love my glutes, whether they be nonexistent or all that and then some.

I love my hair, be it curly, kinky, wavy, straight, blonde, red, or black.

I love my too-big-for-my-frame feet, my bowed legs, and my trick knee.

I now see it matters not how much I lift or how many miles I run, so long as I persist to be cool with myself, free to be me in all my beautiful glory.

So, if you feel seen and know what I mean, then repeat after me:

I love myself.

Snow Day

Children laugh and play,

Throwing snowballs and sledding.

—When did we stop this?

Older

Hair thinning, graying,

Pot-bellied, knees arthritic,

Man, I’m getting old.

Fire of Will

Through the fire and flames,

Through the bruises and pain,

Through the suffering and the shame,

I will step up my game and rise again and again.

You will bear witness to my persistence.

No matter the odds,

I will face any challenge

and win the fight,

As long as the light within shines bright.

On Words

When wielded wisely, words can heal, surprise, and make our spirits rise. But they can be misused to abuse,

Spread lies, sow strife, or end a life;

They can cut like a knife and lay a fellow low,

Cast a bring light, or throw us into an infinite night;

Be neat, sweet, petite, and knock us off our feet.

Or lead to our defeat.

They can be mean, obscene, or used to spread fake news via memes on our computer screens.

They can give shape to our dreams or be the stuff of nightmares.

Their power can leave us staring, glaring, or swearing.

We may lose sleep over them,

Wondering if the price we pay for saying them is too steep.

But if they came cheap and didn’t matter, how worse would things get?

Any nitwit can get in a snit and spit whatever shit they like on social media and be the focal point of attention,

Racking up likes, retweets, and mentions;

All because they have an inclination for condemnation,

A penchant for prose pugilism that leaves decency, civility, and the whole of humanity

Battered and bruised with every word they spew.

Regardless of what some may think,

Words aren’t the final refuse of the weak.

Ultimately, it’s up to each of us to choose the words we use or abuse.

And while this may not be news, it bears repeating.

Though we may be seething, we must

Think before speaking.       

Can You Hear Me Now

When each sentence is a sentence to oratory purgatory,

There’s no violence like silence.

When I speak a word and go unheard,

When my every utterance is met with, “Can you speak more clearly?”

It’s enough to drive me insane.

“Can you hear me now?” has become my go-to refrain.

I feel less than,

My cheeks flushed with heat,

When I’m asked to repeat my words

Again and again.

Each syllable is a subliminal criminal,

A thief of time and energy,

Making communication shallow and banal, hollow so you can follow what I’m saying.

Speaking is like flaying myself, filling me with lethargy as I wait to see if you can hear me. 

I fear anywhere the background volume is above a whisper,

Lest my voice disappear,

Engulfed in the whir of the crowd.

It’s frustrating, infuriating, mentally deteriorating

Wondering if the other is hearing what I’m saying.

So:

Can you hear me now?