(Image from Google Images)
You can’t disguise being desensitized
To real life desire,
these hips and thighs,
and breathless sighs
of once love,
now…
what?
The silent knowledge of unspoken lies,
in the dark, I couldn’t see your eyes,
but knew I was already compromised
and felt like just a substitute
for the smut.
It seems that lately, all too often,
you’ve let your fingers do the walkin’,
and I’ve wasted countless hours
talking…
nothing changes;
a seasonal rut?
My worst competition is you, you see.
Threatened by something
I can never be.
Feeling rejected again, you know me…
But this time, I thought
I’d just keep my mouth shut.
What does silence profit this heart?
Selflessness is a dying art.
Each time my ego bleeds
is a dart,
and a testament to another
internet slut.
Hollow men never fill their void.
But they allow true love
to be destroyed,
by self-gratified spurts,
temporarily buoyed
by the variety of
an endorphin-ous glut.
For actions, there are consequences.
All the justifications and defenses,
for a habit formed so long ago;
an addiction you choose,
because you won’t let it go.
So why am I here again?
For what?
~ C.L.R. ~ © 2010
~ Dragon's Dreams ~ 
great rhyme scheme! you know, my sis said once that they were “desensitizing” their children – because that’s ‘better.’ which translates as too lazy and selfish to protect ones children from societal influences. but anyway — this write makes me think of how there’s two kinds of people …. those who buy useful gifts and those who buy fluff. the understanding that something has to be of ‘use’ to hold its value. i’m a total “an object has to be of use” person. problem is — if you yourself are treated like an ‘object’ …?
Thanks, E! I agree with everything you said, and am also a practical type of person. I can appreciate beautiful things, simply for the sake of beauty, but would much prefer something “useful”. As for objectification of people (women, in particular), that’s a whole ‘nother rant, and especially when you, yourself are treated like an ‘object’, it adds insult to injury. Desensitization is not a good thing, in my book. But it’s still a man’s world, and our society, especially, practically demands being desensitized, as much as I wish it weren’t true. And that being the case, desensitization will probably continue until we’re ALL so desensitized that when the A.I.s take over, we won’t even know the difference.
lol!
The opening lines of the first two stanzas are brilliant.
In every sense selflessness is a dying art in some circles. You are right on that.
This is a rather prescient poem in its way; though, I don’t tend to deal in ultimate negativities. I do agree that there is much going on in our world that doesn’t bode well for the future. Those of us with the eyes to see must work on on it. And, as poets, that’s exactly what we are doing.
Well-considered. Well-structured. Well done. Congratulations.
Thanks, Jamie. That means a lot. I think anything can change, given the right circumstances or motivations, but it was more of a way to vent some rage and frustration than any kind of foresight – although I can definitely see the end results if something doesn’t change. You’re right that we can and are changing the future into something better (hopefully) with our poetry, and by simply being aware enough to act and spread the word. 🙂
The new addiction – or an old addiction with a new venue. This one bites (not a pun) and you’ve certainly written the feelings that I have heard a few women express.
Clever how you ended each verse with “ug”. Well done.
Thank you, souldipper. It’s a bit of a hot button subject, and agree that it is definitely an old addiction with a venue that holds infinite variety with which no real woman could possibly compete. Thanks for dropping by. 🙂
For actions, there are consequences.
All the justifications and defenses,
for a habit formed so long ago; …
Couldn’t agree more! Sometimes we get stuck somewhere and then there is the day when you say what I’m doing here? And why did I stay for so long? Loved the image ….
Thanks, Blaga. Those questions seem to plague me more and more often. The answer is what I fear the most. Glad you could relate.