Stimulation Simulation [News Poem (Sonnet) March 12, 2010]

Stimulation Simulation [News Poem (Sonnet) March 12, 2010]

“Two suicide bombers killed 43 people in near-simultaneous blasts Friday, the fourth major attack in Pakistan this week and a clear sign that militants have the power to strike targets despite months of army offensives and U.S. missile strikes.”
-BABAR DOGAR and TIM SULLIVAN (AP) – 1 hour ago as of 12:43pm PST, March 12, 2010
http://www.google.com/hostednews/ap/article/ALeqM5iY68JOyNIHbng1p0gU3svyBH9g3gD9ED97200

The simulated life has everything
But extra lives, a pause, a game-save point.
Command and conquer: take to drone-craft wing,
Or watch a thousand penises anoint
The one who was your soul-mate in past lives.
Debasing love and murder, playing games
With actresses and aircraft—what survives
Of awe, revulsion, beauty? Playing maims
When done like this: we have no sympathy
To spare—we weep in fraction, actor's tears,
And dole, in millionths, faithless empathy
To those we've trapped in mechanistic gears—
Until you see a man with tear-dried eyes
Explode his vest: then everybody cries.



Subscribe in a reader

The Bridge of Babel [Warmup News Poem, Feb 28, 2010]

The Bridge of Babel [Warmup News Poem, Feb 28, 2010]

“"Starbucks is a special target because it's from the hippie West Coast, and a lot of dedicated consumers who pay $4 for coffee have expectations that Starbucks would ban guns. And here they aren't," said John Bruce, a political science professor at the University of Mississippi who is an expert in gun policy.”
– GREG BLUESTEIN, Associated Press Writer, Sunday, February 28, 2010
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/n/a/2010/02/28/state/n105757S94.DTL&tsp=1
In olden times, a staff or spear
Weren't optional. The murder rate?
It topped all other deaths. The fear
Of states of nature—bloody fates—
Inspired the law and other tools
With which to tame our slaughter-ways
Like Bruegel's Babel: built by fools
Who loathed to give abstractions praise
And much preferred to raise themselves
By corridor and minaret
Above the swords. Commanding shelves
And astrolabes they thought made pets
Of stars, they charted course through space.
Departments manage mobs of folk,
Disarmed by this machine of arms,
This tower signaling our cause:
“Defer to experts. Stay on farms.
Disarm yourself. Obey our laws.”
Through habit most still don this yoke,
But others keenly feel its choke
And fight against a false facade.
This normalcy is rather odd.



Subscribe in a reader

One of Us [Today's News Poem, February 21, 2010]

One of Us [Today's News Poem, February 21, 2010]
“At least 40 people have been killed in the floods, and more than 120 others hurt - a "small number" British.“
--BBC, 21:32 GMT, Sunday, 21 February 2010
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/8527446.stm

“The U.S. Office of Refugee Resettlement, which has 700 refugee children in foster care, has asked states to prepare to foster more international refugee children like Majok, whose parents either have disappeared or been killed by war or natural disaster. The need is heightened by continuing armed conflicts in Africa and recent events such as the earthquake in Haiti.”
--Russell Contreras, AP, February 21, 2010, 3:41 p.m
http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/wire/sns-ap-us-refugee-orphans,0,268446.story

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balloon_boy_hoax

For all the talk of loving fellow humankind,
A hoax balloons when children trap anxiety
We feel as tribal instinct. Cameras, as blind
As us record the sleight of eye society
Maintains is truth. The things we watch are things that count:
An earthquake pricks me less in Haiti—more Malay.
Where coffee's grown, and spice; the scale of death amounts
To higher prices at the store. The kids: away,
By sea--submerged. We grieve as an employer grieves.
The Haitian quake incites the pity workers feel
For beggars. Suffering in them? Let's say it weaves
If only slightly with our vanity's appeal.
To prove that wealth should come to those who spend responsibly:
That any one of us is better: good, demonstrably.


Subscribe in a reader

Prosthetic Gods Wage Their Battle [Today's News Poem, Feb 20, 2010]

Prosthetic Gods Wage Their Battle [Today's News Poem, Feb 20, 2010]
“The family of a longtime Internal Revenue Service employee says he died this week when an pilot harboring a grudge against the tax agency flew his plane into a building. “
--Jim Vertuno, AP, Feb. 20, 2010, 3:59PM ET

http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/metropolitan/6877151.html

Be more than meets the eye and meet that eye
In space, with flocks of people, farms of green.
That blue, with fluid clouds of white in sky
Appears alive: a hive, a huge machine.
Its parts are ignorant and every type
Has faith its form's unique. Conformity?
Coincidence of fate. But still they gripe
And judge the crowd's alike deformity.
The more one seeks to check the mob, the more
The mob puts counter-checks. Antagonize
A man too much and he'll transform and bore
A hole through office walls and agonize
The architects of audits, as a plane.
Soon others—sprouting wheels, adopting lanes—
With superhuman engines spouting gas,
Will crash and crush the source of lights, their mass
Will wreck the Evil Empire's Star of Death:
Alarms, red lights and green. To stop the breath
Of cogs. To end our reign as deities:
And go once more to simpler pieties.



Subscribe in a reader