Losing Touch

A comment on the impact of technology on writing from the soul, and a declaration of commitment to the poet's pen.

When we lose ourselves in the digital backspace of our lives
And truncate sentences
To produce brands and sound bites,
The words begin to die inside our mouths
And pens dry up as obsolete tools.
Connectors break apart
Like circuit breakers turning off the current.
Angels do not sing in text icons,
And if we are honest with ourselves,
People do not find each other in
The black space of cyber-pseudonyms.
The honest voice speaks words to the heart
Or keeps silence in the sacred space of death,
When words become presence
And presence fills with love.
When the time comes for all networks to crash,
Overloaded with false idols,
As a people, will we find our collective voice?
Will we look for the orators that led our ancestors,
And learn the way to write our own great teachings?
The poets are dying inside,
Putting down their pens to take up swords of fire,
To burn through what would otherwise burn them as heretics and saints.
I will not put down my pen again
To tap cold words on a keyboard
And watch as they appear
On a screen that dims my soul.
I will write
With my hand perched on a page
Until the words tumble out.
And if my ancestors come and find no pages here,
I will send angel songs from the other side
Until they hear the call
To pen their own words again.

Reviews

[Teddybearlee]

A gift and a curse, technology. Maybe the world would be different without it, maybe more people would still be in touch with their emotions, but as it seems now, it is the only way for some of us to connect with others of similar feelings. I love your stance on this, I do at heart share the same view, the anonymity allows others to be so disrespectful and hurtful without worry for repercussion, and our eyes and ears so filled with hate and violence. I know the first "poem" I wrote on this site that I didn't have already written on paper...didn't quite feel the same, I felt pride in taking pictures of the writings on paper and posting them with the writing I posted on the site, like, THIS is the original, with little doodles and all, and "I love you" to my wife. To those honest and spirited of heart, the internet age does seem to hamper and hurt quite a bit, especially if it contributes to a loss of someone, or part of ourselves. Your writing here definitely triggers thinking, a wonderful thought provoking piece.

[Marianne Rose]

Exactly right. I recently bought a pen that I can write with that transfers to the computer- haven't opened the box yet. Where I work, I used to be on the computer 4 out of 8 hours at least every day. Then I fell down some stairs and had a concussion that prevented me from using the computer for a while, and though I'm recovered, the doc has limited me to three hours a day, with a 20 minute rest break after every hour. It changed me. I started noticing at work how we're all tied to our computers, barely looking up as someone passes to say hello. Our team has fractured in the last year, so I've started making the rounds to every office to connect in person. We all see students individually, so there's still connection with them- but we have to work hard at pulling our team back together. Guess I needed the bonk on the head to wake me up!