Speakers speak
panels opine
videos play
cameras flash
faces glow
with the light
of BlackBerry
buzz, little
candles in
the darkness,
heads bent
as in prayer.
In a corner
unnoticed
overwhelmed
by the video
screen looming
above him,
the artist draws
and colors and
traces what he
hears and senses,
the only truth
of what transpires.
This poem is submitted for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. To see more poems submitted, please visit the site. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time today.
With all from the screen flying about
ReplyDeleteGreat how the artist can still take a truthful note.
I have a whole series of Conference Poems, stuff I wrote in Albany and Dallas and Portland and Boston and Norfolk and St Paul when off doing trade shows, by day doing the dog and pony show for work, in the loneliness of my room early and late getting to the insides of those all-business events -- just what your artist is doing, coloring in the rest of of the picture. - Brendan
ReplyDeleteDo I sense that meetings aren't your favorite place to be? Wonderful fodder for the pot though...
ReplyDeleteOoops...meant to say poet...
ReplyDeleteYou've coined a name for a new disease: "Blackberry buzz". And, unfortunately, I know too many who suffer from it!
ReplyDeleteIt pleases me no end that I no longer have to attend conferences for work. Your poem contains all the reasons why.
You've coined a name for a new disease: "Blackberry buzz". And, unfortunately, I know too many who suffer from it!
ReplyDeleteIt pleases me no end that I no longer have to attend conferences for work. Your poem contains all the reasons why.
I love the poem. I did that once, or twice, become the artist.
ReplyDeleteNicely penned, Glynn :)
ReplyDeleteI like what that artist is doing...a nice reminder of what connects us, amidst the technology driven world.
ReplyDeleteI like this Glynn. I think the artist has discovered the best part.
ReplyDeleteThe artist's job ... to present truth.
ReplyDeleteAnd the writer seems to do the same, I see through you
ReplyDeleteAh yes. Stick an artist in a closed room with the meeting droning on around them...torturous, to be sure, but even there, the artist's role will out!
ReplyDeletesmiles...amid the chaos the artist sees the truth beneath it all...and carries it forward with his pen..smiles.
ReplyDeleteHave been to many a conference you have coined it well with the buzzing and heads bent...glad to be back reading..missed all the great work..bkm
ReplyDeleteI echo Susan's sentiments.
ReplyDeleteSometimes an artist is the only person who can see the tenuous threads of truth amongst great muddles of meaningless communication..
As in this poem, the sketch artist immortalizes a moment in time, essentalizes it, focuses our attention upon what is most important.
ReplyDeleteReality is always a made thing. Thanks for this fine making!
excellent ending and love your last stanza
ReplyDeletehttp://gatelesspassage.com/2011/10/11/the-day-of-the-dead/#comment-1682
A true testament to our times..... As I sit here typing I realize this is what we have become: a world where conversation occurs only at leisure, like a half played chess board waiting for its participants to return. Thirty years ago would have found the same room alive with conversations, greetings between strangers, kisses between young lovers, familiar glances between older ones..... much has changed...
ReplyDeleteThe only truth indeed! The soul sucking vapor of the boardroom needn't attempt to steal your muse! Well penned!
ReplyDelete