“Perceived Slights”

“Perceived Slights”

Look at you over there.

Seething.

Angry at every turn.

Can you see yourself?

You’re ridiculous.

Your fat equestrian pants thighs squeezing into the last remaining seat.

You flippantly look at the meek gentleman sitting beside you.

You know, the one who’s rail thin.

Your body is invading his space.

You exceed the seat you squeezed into.

One time, you read a snarky article in some snarky magazine, about “man spreading”.

You believe that he is at fault.

But I’ve seen pita bread thicker’n him.

Your furrowed brow, your audible tut.

You’re invading the space of everyone on the train.

You’re “perceived slight spreading”.

Keep your overtly aggressive gestures to yourself, as well as your veiled passive aggressive ones.

Your energy is toxic.

I can’t possibly know what has helped you to arrive here in this moment.

But as I observe you, I can tell it likely that all the things you react to negatively, are decidedly innocuous until you put your charming mind around them.

Relax.

The gentleman beside you, a registered stoic, has ridden in silence, despite the discomfort of your polyester thigh rubbing his knee every time you jostle to dramatize your perceived slight.

Your stop is coming up.

Better get yourself ready to shake your head because only one half of the doors will open upon exiting.

Also, you will be inconvenienced by those standing to the right on the escalator, as you try to squeeze by.

Lastly, as your bring your morning coffee to your lips, you will shake an admonishing fist in the air at some imagined deity, as the cream the barista put in the cup curdled.

Soured.

Much like you.

“Poemvember Potion”

My second ProCrasstheNation Poetry Project has come to a completion with this last offering below. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all that have contributed. Whether it was in offering a word of inspiration to seed a poem, by  visiting my website to view a post, or by commenting and sharing the work I’ve created; I appreciate your patience, consideration, and encouragement.

I ask for your continued support, and look forward to offering you fresh content as we move into a new and exciting year.

*The poem below is composed of  the 29 words or phrases (all bolded and italicized) that were used as poem titles for the past month.

 

I share with you my witches brew…

rube
http://www.pxleyes.com/images/contests/rube%20goldberg/fullsize/rube%20goldberg_4a3c0e06144db_hires.jpg

 

“Poemvember Potion”

 

My body is my home.

A place of profound and unconditional love.

It requires great energy to sustain a healthy esteem in modern society.

A phoneciety, wherein we lose ourselves in technology,

and withdraw from the world.

We miss the good things.

Perhaps, noticing that within every post rain rainbow,

or promise of inner peace,

resides redemption for a weary soul.

I weather the waves of naysayers and doubters.

Striking out into the wilderness,

and hiking in the isolation of doubt as it surrounds me,

and challenges every microscopic fiber of my resolve to not fold inward.

I push forward through the adversity of life,

like the Red Sox finally winning the world series after an extended drought.

Redefining what sanctification means.

Realigning my essence and my body into a cohesive syzygy.

What makes a man, a man?

Diversion.

 “What if C-A-T really spelled DOG?”

The 1980’s Celtics/Lakers rivalry

No, nope, maybe?

Do I need to be a deviant daddy,

and stand akimbo in the middle of Boston Traffic,

wearing a pair of red skin-tight singlets?

Or do I need to be a Greasy Texan with a penchant for lobbying against the repealing of the 2nd Amendment?

Perhaps, I can regain the joy of feeling anonymity in a city?

Eating sandwiches and macaroons is the only way back to fine and dandy.

That, or an eight-ball of yayo in the secret pocket of your denim jeans.

A rolling stone gathers no moss, so they say.

Do you think there’s a German word for that?

 

 

“Phoneciety”

Poem 29 in the ProCrasstheNation Poemvember Poetry Project was inspired by an idea that my friend Dominic named, but I hadn’t been able to articulate: Phoneciety. This is what we are devolving into folks. No way around it. Ironically, much of what I do in way of blogging and capturing content starts with my cell phone. Yes, I am a hypocrite. Does it absolve me from being accountable if I’m aware of the problem. No! I didn’t think so. I give you the Brave New World…

 

Soma never tasted so good.

img_1512
“Escalation” © C.P. Hickey 2017

 

“Phoneciety”

We live in a society in its decline.

Phoneciety.

Bold impropriety.

Gaining notoriety through ego masturbation.

Stroking out.

Striking in.

Faces enthralled by an empty dead glow.

That’s as far as the light goes.

In the throes, of Apps and Emoticons.

No emotions.

Choosing icons to relay feelings.

False mirror.

Non-confrontational.

No immediate accountability for what is said.

Pollution.

Devotion to a lower powered battery.

Depleted

Defeated.

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“Captive Audience” © C.P. Hickey 2017

Hostile takeover,

as towers of terror terraform the landscape.

Triangulation of your virtual presence.

Strangulation of your anonymity.

Sign in.

Log on.

Password.

Text.

Texting.

Taxing.

Bought and sold,

Fool’s gold.

Interconnected isolation.

Deadened gazes.

Instant gratification.

Facebook Nation.

Displaying dystopia.

Heads bent down.

Procession of distraction.

Fixation on the false gods.

The serpent didn’t give the Apple to Eve.

It gave it to Steve,

Jobs are reduced to temporary service related baseline non-skill, cheaper by the dozen, minimum wage destinations.

Resumes have more bullet points than a mass shooting.

Compliance not coerced,

but willingly conceded,

one application at a time.

Click bait.

Plugged in fate.

No debate.

Detonate.

Clean slate.

Heads of State,

complicate globalization and geopolitical issues by firing insult salvos across social media frontlines.

Baseless insults are bullets in the work up to the final SEND.

The End.

Civilized civilization ceases to exist.

Succumbs to dumb elected officials with insecurity issues.

Elevated by an uneducated populace,

a rabble of ham-fisted hacks.

The drug of choice is in your palm.

It enters your eyes,

infects your mind,

leaves you a husk if humanity.

Dependent.

Chasing the first hit.

Addicted.

No cure.

A void to be filled by consumerist considerations.

 

The stars in the sky still shine,

even though no one looks up anymore.

 

Flat earth?

Why not?

What difference does it make, now?

 

Sordid selfie, show the archaeologists of tomorrow our baseless pride.

 

Lucifer was cast out of paradise for serving his vanity.

 

Where will we be cast for serving ours?

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“Malingerers” © C.P. Hickey 2017