Peacetime
We're living in peacetime—
floating and adrift in
an endless space
of instant materialization,
lɐǝɹǝɥʇǝ waves coasting on
the crystal rim
of our infrastructure,
impelled, jettisoned
through the jet steam
ɯɐsʇǝɾ of
a jocular lifestyle.
We're living in peacetime.
We refuse
to be roused
from out medicated slumber
slɐɔıɯǝɥɔ lɐɥʇǝl ɟo lıɐʇʞɔoɔ ɐ
suıǝʌ ɹno ɥƃnoɹɥʇ ƃuısɹnoɔ —
t̡͕͔̦̝̏̾̓̆r̞ͥ̂ͮ͂͝ë̯̱ͯͯ̽ͧ̓ḁ͇̱͓̣͚̭ͬc̥͍ͤ̓͐l̫ͯ̔ḛ ̿̕ ̣̤b͖ͭ͗̇̎̑̍l̂̓͏o̦̣̬͚̻͈̔o̸͖̩͉̖͔̲͎̐ͬ̀̐̇̎d͔̥̝̖̹̲̻̿̃̂f ̖̗̳̓ͮ̊̈͌͘lͪͬͥỏ̺̩͖̩̼̱̽̉̀w̱͉͕̙̲͂͊̂͊
pǝʇɐɔɔısǝp'pǝʇɐssıdsuı
perennially cubed
contamination
a mordant climate forming:
fever-pitch ʇ͖͙͠s̸͍̗̲͎̙̳ı̶͙̫̪ǝ̙̫̞͖̲ƃ̱̝͓͖̰̦̩͝ ʇ̢ı͝ǝ͈̺ẓ̗̺̀ ̜̥͉̮̀z̰̯ɯ̘̬̫͖͎̳̟ɹ͕̠̖ǝ̱͉̼͈͇ͅͅɥɔ͚̼͖sʇ̢̗̱̩̜̗͍ḻǝ͍̱ͅʍ̸
sickness ƃuıllǝʍs ƃ̪̭̰͈̥̹̕u̖͕̰̼͓͓̳ı͏ll͖͇͘ǝ͓̝ʍ̪͢s̨̰̻ ƃ̸̻̤̬̯̖̺̦̬̭̝̩̲̖̟̰̞̲́͢͠ù̴̶̷̥̯̣͓̫͚̻̻̳̣͈̟̫͍̜͎͚͓̥ı̴͔̝ ̳͍̟͜ĺ̨̤͇̲̳͚̝̖̘͔̥̖̹̩̫̺̳̞́͘l̡͢͝҉͈̭͈̦̞̥̫̳̙͇̝͚͔̪̣̫͓͙͎ ͢ǝ̀҉̡͕̱̙̗̙̟͕̩̻̪̰̤͇͜ʍ̡͉͇͓̯̞̹̯̩̮͔̦͓͜ͅś͚͎̯̤̘͢͞͞
i n our heads;
a jumbled abjuration,
abeyance— ǝɔuɐés 'ou —
for existence.
Sleep now,
we're living in peacetime.
We're deaf to
nature's gnarled cachinnate,
eschewed its guttural
ɔıɟǝlɐɯ
ǝuıuɹnʇɐs snarl, replaced
our Adonai—
o̙̰̫̼̍̇̋̑͗u̖̗̙͎͚̮̝͛ͧ̃r̝̟̱͓̪̝̥̝̲̬̃̐̑ͫ ̄̏̄ͬ̊̌̈ ̭͚͍͍̭̣̬͇̰͕͖̈͛͂̔̋ͩͯͧ̔ṭ̭̥̇͊͊̒͐̍̾̔͑ͣ̓͐ͥ̋͑͂͒r͇͉̠͇͔͆ͥͥ ͑ͪͨu̙̲̯͓̺̻͔̤͚̯̰͊ͥ̊̂̓̓ͥt͇̩̭̘͕͈͖̞̦̙̮̮̘̖̩̘̮̻̽̂͐ͤ̉͆͌̓ ͮ̐̿̊̀͛ͪ̿̍̄h̺͚͇̤̣̬̳̫̰͉͚̫ͤ̈́̑͐s͕͖͉͖͔͕̟̺͇͍͚̠ͣ̅́͊ͬ͛̏̽ ̒̆͗̑ͩ ̗͕͉̞̥̰͙͙̈́͛͆̌͑͐̑͑̔t̯̳̙̘̦̭͈̣͖̹͙̪ͭͫ̑͆͆̐̎ͣ́͑̎ͅr̠͍͕̦͍ ̰̰ͣ͌̂̑͆o̮͖̜̱͖̫̙̟̺ͫ͋͐̊̍̋ͮm͍̩̺̪̦̣̘͚̜͓̞̬̒̋́̓ͮ̌̀͂͌̉͑ͬ p̬̱̠͔̬͉͎̙̼͕̖̥̝ͤ̔͆̏͐ͪ̑ͬ̑̅̑̓̏ͨ̅̓ȇ͖̹̖̺̖̻̮̲̳̯͊ͣ̓̑̐ͧ ̳͍̤̬̯̞͕͂̽̀͌̅̈́ͦͭͤͯͬ̉l̩͍̰͖̠͉̅̽̅ͧ͒͗ͦͦ̏̆̋̓ͅē̝̣͈̩̣̱̟̙ ͎̰̖͕ͣ̆ͭ͗̆̇̋ͩͩ̑̾ͤͣ̔͒̒ͮ͆ͅ-͇̣̪̻̠̦̬̥̣̲̹͔̊ͤ̒́ͩ̒͐ͤõ̪̻̳̤ ͔̰̟̼̻̋̓̂͗̀͗͑e̥͈͖̤͔̙̠̘̟͇̩̬̘̒̾̋͋ͭ̓͗͛͊͌ͧͅì̬̮̘ͯͬͤ̎̾ͣ̊ ͨ͗̑̈̆ͪ̀̿̚ͅl̟̤̝̙̼͖͔̊͛̿̎̈́̈́ͪ̎ͧ͆̏̑̃̉͗̇ͩ͂̒ —
for anodyne automatons
that supplant sylvan landscapes—
spnolɔ ǝʇǝɹɔuoɔ ɟo ǝuılʎʞs.
We substitute community
for its datapoints
in an advertising algorithms.
We're living in peacetime.
We're living in peacetime,
accepting that loss is forever.
Lethean padded coffins for us, calling
[...] Read more
poem by Tim Stensloff
Added by Poetry Lover
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