Hidden Windows
An eye fall here, a hover there, an infinite stream to walk.
To meet, to greet, to connect and beat, and in the shadows talk.
A thousand gates, a thousand ways, a thousand gaps of time.
A million points for keeping score, and holding desire's line.
Classified and characterized, herded through narrowing runs.
Fed to fatten and cut to trim, all under the guise of fun.
Skin in the game bleeding out, until only the skin is left.
And alone in the dark, a billion silenced voices wept.
I know you, I know it all, I know every secret and every pore.
You are mine, nothing hidden, no cupboard or secret drawer.
Your thoughts are bare, your thoughts are not yours at all.
All you are is what I gave, and all that you were was trawled.
You traded yourself in the hope to find who you really are.
A thousand empty rooms, and eight billion exposed scars.
What you found was what you lost, now far out of your reach.
For when you opened the window, you let in the endless leech.
I just finished reading an essay by @ronthroop along these lines. I think. I'm not 100% sure what either of you are trying to say today! but then again, I am never 100% sure about anything. Which is what I get from this poem. Lemme rif along.
8 billion minds, having looked through many more windows, some obscured with vines, and others recently scrubbed perfectly clean inside and out, will create as many versions of so-called truth. The endless leech sucks at your inner source and renders you a mere version of yourself, shaped by versions those other 8 billion see of you. Something like that. whew!
Nice rif!
Honestly, the only truth I’ve ever known to be 100% accurate is “Ouch, my stomach cramps!” :)
What if I point you in another direction and consider it from the point of view of digital surveillance and data collection?
Nice! Yes! Thanks for the redirection! I love that last image, that digital surveillance is an endless leech, sucking us dry, mining our minds.
A nightmare, the struggle for identity, loneliness, the search for meaning and the consequences of our choices. Meditating friend @tarazkp on how we relate to the world and to ourselves…
Life is a skein of paths.
Maybe it isn't. Maybe we have zero choice at all, meaning that there is only one path we can walk.
I am imagining an older man sitting at a window drawing on his memories and thinking of his own impending death.
I think we will all be there at some point, reflecting on our lives and wondering why we followed the path we did.
Epic epic epic brother wow, that's one fine art right there. A deep poem by all standards. This poem really captures the feeling of losing yourself in this day and age, where privacy seems almost like a myth now hehehe. It's both thought-provoking and beautifully written. Good one bro grab a !BEER
Reminded me of the literature club game doki doki.
cute traumas 🥰.
The poem sounded a lot like god to me.
According to how I saw it that a mention of a window that should never have been opened because a plague got into your life with good lip.
In the first few lines of the poem, it feels like the author is waiting for something precious but from the middle to the last, it shows that the author is missing his beloved. He’s lonely maybe due to the fact that she died or broke up with him
Did I guess right?
Wow! 🥰 I didn't know you are good at making poem too. This is interesting.
It’s looking like someone is missing the love of his life
Nice poem!
Your description of the loss of individuality and control, 'all you are is what I gave,' made me deeply reflect on identity and personal value in times of massive exposure. The ending, with the 'endless leech,' is a powerful metaphor for how we let technology and society invade our lives until we are left empty. This poem truly made me question and appreciate the struggle to keep our humanity intact. You write with incredible depth and sincerity.
Definitely the best thing I've read today. Best regards my friend,👍