Locked behind walls
of ink and pen I stargaze
into an electric eye
that hounds my fingers
to step from archaic cursive
into a net trapping keyboard strokes.
I wish to be invisible in a world
rabid for detailed exposure.
The love I mother in my heart
doesn’t wish to drink from
a common faucet of outrage
or share depth where shallow pools.
I don’t want my voice stored
in a cloud, barricaded but never secure.
My world is a room where God
hears my confessions and pulls
my soul through ink until I surrender
translation upon pages only I can see.
©Susie Clevenger 2016
This isn't exactly steampunk poetry, but I brought Emily Dickinson into the modern age of internet exposure. I wrote her fighting it, but then again perhaps she would embrace it. There is a cult of electronic introversion I believe...see without being seen..speak without responding..It could be light or dark.
Comments
I don’t want my voice stored
in a cloud...
I am not one to submerge myself in the online world, but I am a part of it, there's no denying that.