Videocracy
Say I:
On the websites I used to share, I was frequently amazed
Poems got greeted with silence; it seems eyes were quickly glazed.
It’s as if I’d morphed into a Pig Latin-speaking warthog.
My past efforts to share poetry should all be on failblog.
At the time I could not comprehend how it fell on dead eyes.
On further examination, the why of it I surmise:
Appreciation of the written word
Like a dying dodo bird
Many don’t know why exactly they should bother.
Why you gotta write so much?
Give that thought the modern touch!
Nothing says it like a Facebook Post, my brother!
Says the Humanities Professor:
“You see, there, chap, I most certainly don’t mean to sound perverse,
But quite stricken and dying is affection with written verse.”
“Folks like their thoughts concise, not with endless poetic device.
Why speak it if you can see it? Please kindly take my advice:”
“If you want imagery, try an image! Everyone knows it--
Don't waste your time saying it; it’s oh, so much quicker to show it!”
A picture’s worth a thousand words
A GoPro 120 frames per second. Absurd!
Thinking about writing so long just makes my hands blister.
Why would anyone write that much?
Give that thought the modern touch!
Nothing says it like a YouTube Vid, my sister!
Says the Psychiatrist:
“As laughter is our culturally preferred catharsis,
People would rather see a vid of drunk frat boys on horses.”
“All those salty tears you poets try to cause people to shed,
You just make everybody want to bang their heads instead.”
“Wow, did you hear that? I think that's genius! Totally sweet!
Quick, hand my iPhone right here, and I’ll give that bird a Tweet!”
Who needs form and meter?
So what if it sounds sweeter?
Just say your piece and beat it out the door!
140 syllables and rhyme?
140 characters max is fine.
I just can’t see why anyone would ever need any more.
Says the Neuroscientist:
“Overuse of your cortex depletes glucose as a substrate,
And since we’d rather conserve energy, video is great!"
“Humans prefer images that skip straight to the limbic brain.
Oh, and YouTube’s got some vids that are totally insane!”
"Read it? No chance! Not nowadays. This will take folks far too long.
We want it quick! And this is why your art form is going, going, gone!”
Poetry to me is dead
You can just text me instead
Just touch-type your thoughts super quick and send ‘em.
Why you gotta write so much?
Give that thought the modern touch!
Unnecessary style, well, it’s just so last millennium.
Says the MMA fighter:
“Sorry, man. No way. All that reading is a total pain.
That, and there’s gotta be someone else with a bigger brain."
“Who needs all those stupid kittens and butterflies and stuff?
All those fancy words are just a bunch of big crybaby fluff.”
“Are you kidding me? Feelings are for wussies. Yeah, I think I’ll pass.
No, hold on--I’ve got one--I feel like kickin’ your pansy ass!”
You can blow it out your ear
If you think I want to hear
A whole bunch of sissy rhymes, unless it’s gangsta rap.
Why would you write at all?
Grow a me-size pair of balls!
You’re damn straight that it’s a big old pile of crap.
Says the college kid:
“You say that you’re a poet, but dude, I’m just not interested.
‘Cuz, like, I’ve never seen any of your stuff on Pinterest.”
“And if you don’t have a website, then you’re no good at your art,”
He opined, with a fist pump and a deeply resonant fart.
His friends cheered and exclaimed, “Dude! That was a total grand slam!”
“You video that? You’ll get a million likes on Instagram!”
Wait, did you just say ‘inanity’?
‘Cuz it sounded like insanity
Which sounds totally kickass and stuff to me.
I’m gonna eat a slice of ’za
Care to join me, brah?
There’s a couple left, and it’s da bomb biggity!
Say I:
Sometimes all this writing feels like banging my head about,
But every so often, something interesting will still fall out.
And I see it’s the same with you, when I read the poems you write.
All the beautifully flowing words have become a new light.
This inspiration is no longer so hard for me to find.
Even though Videocracy is hobbling our minds.
3/6/16
Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016
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