Filtered

Filtered

Filtered,
because otherwise
we would all o.d. on Life.
Better to latch the dirt to our eyes
the rose tints.
I know the poets;
they would be screaming first.
Keep it filtered, alkaline
Don’t put names and innocent smiles
on the numbers.
Graph it, stack them in mass graves,
nameless
memorial-free
that’s much easier
on our kind…
safer.

Keep it streaming,
take it to the limits,
drop it out to sea.
Just let a few things close to home
pass through our sieve
to pop up on our screens.
Let’s forget the rest,
our dark animal howls,
our gnashing teeth that maim,
something we almost thought we’d seen
but now it’s gone
and there’s a silly tweet,
to pull us away,
twenty new things we have to do,
so we can start to feel safe-guarded
diffused.
Leave the rest to blow away like leaves
sounds with no meaning
bombs that fall
in places with low ratings..
It’s my hope to never watch that show
anywhere again.

If I start to peek
and see sweet boys
holding posters for peace,
I will never be able to eat,
forgive my bloody human race
or sleep.

Karima Hoisan
April 17th 2013
Costa Rica

*Thank you to Scottius Polke for talking about this
subject with me. It was my reason for writing the poem.

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7 Responses to Filtered

  1. daleinnis says:

    So very true, Karima. All of it would be too much for any one of us…

  2. Scottius says:

    Thanks Karima, we may not be able to have empathy for every injustice in the world but a recognition of our filters at least might lead us toward a better acknowledgement of them. And maybe remind many of us we have the luxury of a filter.

    And as always your poetry helps cut through the “twitter feed” crap. 🙂

  3. Thanks Scottius..I actually have not yet become a tweeter…what’s wrong with me? *winks:)

  4. Hoyt Heron says:

    Miss Karima,
    You certainly hit home with this one. Your words can be as soft as a mother’s caress, and at the same time as rough as an old Montana boot. This work contains both. So hard. I was actually waiting for this. As I know you were. This is your burden as an artist to conjure up these images, though at times, very painful for all. I don’t know if it will ever happen, but this endeavor of yours should go viral for all to see. Thank you Ruca.

  5. Awww thank you Hoyt..so you knew I would say something…You know me better than I know myself much of the time. I don’t like to write poems like this, but our world keeps making it very hard to avoid..What is wrong with us? Sometimes I just throw my hands up in the air…and then soon after a poem usually comes..one I never wanted to write. Thank you for making it all more bearable and reminding me of the good that is still. here too

  6. Pingback: Remembering The Boston Bombings & Other Horrors A Year Ago | Digital Rabbit Hole

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