Certain visuals are sketches
Of a dot-to-dot planet
Color-coded into subdivisions.
Northern hemisphere, southern hemisphere
States, countries, and continents
Poor, rich, dark and light…a
Drawn upon the streets, which…
We all can view on Google
Zooming in on frozen houses
Cars blurred while in movement
The past re-done, crime and punishment.
There is no sound in these places
Listening is obsolete.
We watch in focus mode,
For seeing is believing
And believing is sketchy.
These true images tumble in an
IP address bingo game.
Our humanity is a muffled noise
Behind the source…where
We are an array of likenesses
Mystery trolls hiding from
The bright crayon drawing of the sun?
Thinking in binary, or even worse,
Singularities of the infinite
Yelling at the top of our
Copy and pastes, proving
Yet another dead-end dual
Of conception and misconception.
Reasons to hate, reasons to love,
Do we construct art galleries of catharsis
Using only two hands?
Relieving the little voice, gurgling
Deep within empathy’s consciousness.
A temporary suture, a pause
From unending and constant bleeding,
The blaming of whoever and whomever,
While we run from sounds telling us
We are the ones placing images, messages
Inside the ubiquitous search engine
To gaze upon the shape of definition
Hunting for an undeniable truth,
The one math equation that explains it all
The impetus behind
Constructing inescapable jails
So beautiful, they become
Mirrors of our arguing love talk
The image of the red heart is something we recognize. But, that image does not make the sound of beating. In order to have the best chance at creating understanding, we must listen as well as gaze upon the image.–Elan
A Picture’s worth a thousand words, but a word ain’t worth a dime. –Sturgill Simpson