POETRY IN MOTION

Another fifty score year and mankind still survives
Unable to destroy himself no matter what he tries
Three thousand years since the birth of Christ
And by the many faces of sin is he still enticed

The greenhouse effect has driven him underground
It is the only place liquid water can still be found
Spoken words are seldom heard in his subterranean life
where echoes can cut through ceilings like a sharp knife

Body language is now mans purest form of communication
Where art to emotions are acts for physical translation
People watching gives one poetic license not to conform
For poetry of motion is now mankind's most favored art form
                                     Bear

Author's Note

I leave most punctuation to the reader that they can read the poem in their own meter, mood and motility. I thank you for taking the time to read my work.

Reviews

[Confuser]

Bear: I enjoyed it and your imagination; nothing has changed; seems like mankind's going down the gutter; and that is so sad; poetic license not to conform, For poetry of motion is now mankind' most favored art form: the second stanza seems to have dual meanings...spoken words are seldom heard; where echos can cut through ceiling like a sharp knife: humm...some things carry own, with technology things are changing...distortions can occur...maybe the echoes are rumors. Thank you. I tried! It is very good. You are way, way smarter than me. Dale

[Bear]

From your analogy of the poem and insight on the double entendres, speaks highly of your intellect so I don't think anyone would question your smarts :~) I do thank you for your kind and
sagacious comments.

[Confuser]

Thanks Bear: Was this on a particular subject or contest? I saw another one with the same name; humm....Oh, and I don't mind if anyone questions my intellect; my brains are constantly falling on the floor....

[Bear]

I wrote it for the "What will poetry be like in 1000 years" I don't know if it was a contest or not, I was just inspired by the topic.

[Confuser]

Interesting....that's where I read it...a contest. Great writing...Dale