The Cradle
Like Prisoners Assessing Their Lunch, Babies Crying out to Be Satiated, Rocking Back and Forth in Their Cradle
The cat’s cradle, carefully
feigning design
unable to follow
losing sight of the line
The baby’s cradle, blissfully
rocks to and fro
intermittent cries
then to sleep it goes
Civilization’s cradle, bravely
chooses a leader again
anger, delusion, lies
we accept the leader’s sin
Switch on the cable, unconsciously,
yes, there, take it all in
distraction, ego, drama
I see we’re trapped from within
Complacently fueling my hope
Sitting in the wet sun with a coffee for my time outside
how poetic is my dreary, utopian circumstance
Woe is me, I have nothing to worry about
No physical problems to overcome
Is the worst problem not the comfort we’ve become?
The tornado came through and shook us all up
It woke something within us, perhaps, I hope
I hope more tornadoes whistle through
and rock, sway, blow the cradle below
rebalancing our information-action ratio
playing bitter games of environmental hocus pocus
Basking in the glory of forgetfulness
what was it I read just a moment ago?
Ah yes, a piece about hippies
Oh no, a story of hyper-masculine lust
I see the world is burning
I take another hit of content
I shake my head vigorously, denying the screen
I’m a prisoner to digital, flickering curiosity
Walk with me for a minute or three
We’ll go to the planet of loneliness
Let’s talk of our unexplainable struggles
the ones we can’t place or describe
Designating titles for new diseases
We created with our insatiable thirst
for quieting the baby in the cradle
and crafting our own cradle’s burst
About the Creator
Keegan Roembke
I am a poet? and I didn't even know it??
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