Quagmire

Jenny’s playful spirit and laughing eyes
brighten my days more than the clear blue skies.
She is off to school and eager to learn.
A pink birthday cake awaits her return.

Shots ring out, then screams.
Bodies sprawl in pools of blood
and deathly silence.

Now, gazing out the window past the pain,
I struggle through gray days with pouring rain
and the gaping empty hole in my heart,
trying to fathom what ripped it apart.

Is this the price we must pay
for the technology
we enjoy today?

Cell phones are easy but remote ways to transact,
replacing more personal eye-to-eye contact.
Internet affairs provide opportunity
for more diversity with less sincerity.

Each generation wants to raise the power bar
and keep topping past deeds, no matter how bizarre.
In ’59, fisticuffs were the repertoire
for conflict resolution, leaving a few scars.

Today, knives and guns
respond to minor issues
with finality.

Graphic images
of sex and violence
are thrust upon our psyches,
numbing sensitivities
until they become accepted
as “cool” culture.

In this flood of exploding virtual experience,
we need an ark
to salvage our values
of
morality and humanity.