I am a Storyteller, first and foremost. This is my blog for poetry, prose, stories, excerpts of my novels and videos. Life poetry, prophetic poetry, poetry for all genres. I think you'll find yourself here if you read long enough.
Wednesday, May 21, 2025
World Without Books
World Without Books
What would we read?
What would we write?
How would we plead
The tale of our plight?
A world without books
Would be a world without dreams
Unshared and lost
In an ocean of screams.
How would we know
How our brother man feels?
If we could not peruse
His way and his will?
How would we treasure
Another friend's heart?
If we could not read it
We'd stay miles apart.
A world without books
Would be a world without voice
We'd reason in silence
Not seeing a choice.
For books bid us "Come!"
And welcome us home
And allow us to find out
That we're not alone.
©️voo shining stone
aug 22, 08
Winding Down
Winding
Down
Every thing gets wound up in this world
Clocks, music boxes, hearts, life
It's how things work, how they run
Some times they get over-wound and break
Springs get sprung, music turns to discord
And lives come undone. I've always known that.
Still, I've reached for that key a thousand times
And turned hopefully and maybe carelessly
So, I guess that's what's happening to you and me now:
Things are just winding down
And tomorrow everything will stop.
©️by Voo Shining Stone
Aug 4, 07 2 a.m.
We Are Digital
We Are Digital
Heaven, help us
For we are digital
And do not know
How to wind a watch.
Heaven, help us
For we are spoiled
Born into electricity
And terrified of a candle's spark.
We are such driven people
Driven here, driven there
We don't know how to walk anymore
We don't know how to use our feet.
Babies come into the world
Reaching for cell phones
Knowing the words to songs we've forgotten
Dancing the latest dirty dances and old.
Heaven, help us
For we are set on automatic
We respond in kind to deadened emotions
React as our programming dictates.
Heaven, help us
For we are milk-fed, soft-handed ingrates
We think that the world owes us everything
When we haven't earned a space yet to stand.
Our lives are played out on mp3 collections
Our music lives in the pockets of our jeans
Our souls are compartmentalized, our hearts, cold machines
And our spirits are hybrid, cloned things, not of God.
What do we do then, when the lights go out?
How will we live? What will we eat?
Where will we go when they hunt us and kill us?
How will we survive when the wolves rule the streets?
Heaven, help us
For the magazines tell us
That we're destined for greatness
And the history books tell us that we're destined for doom.
Heaven, help us
For we see the armies, and not the man
We see the forests, and not the tree
We think in plural and "greater good."
Gone are the days of clear blue skies
And smog free air
Our lungs are full of chemicals
That the drug lords sprayed up there.
Tonight, I sit by candlelight, writing
Trying to put my heart on paper
For somebody to find and read when I'm gone
And I hope that they will, before it's thrown on the fire.
Somebody in an unborn generation
Will have to discover that marvelous thing all over again: Fire
It's beauty, it's warmth, it's terror
For today, even the candle lights are fake.
Tomorrow, they will build igloos
Out of unplugged microwave ovens
Sleep in old bath tubs and bathe in the streams
Tomorrow, they will not know what we took so for granted.
Heaven, help us
For we are digital
We are numbers with faces
And we walk in our sleep.
Heaven, help us
For we are blind and bereft of love
We have made a mess of this beautiful planet
Turned it into hell as you sighed from above.
©By Voo
Oct 13, 08
9 p.m.
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