Oh, the marvels of our modern age,
Where eyebrows now arrive pre-arranged.
Hearts that beat but noses shift,
Chins adjusted as lives re-gift.
Breasts ballooned like circus flair,
A carnival ride in self-repair.
Cheeks now climb where ears once lay,
One wonders where they'll head one day.
Tongues exchanged for plastic charm,
Or foreheads stretched to an alarming calm.
Will toes replace fingers? It's anyone's guess,
In this body bazaar of endless finesse.
Please tell me where it’s leading us,
This remade flesh, this sculpted fuss.
What once was the self, adrift, untrue,
What becomes of me, or he—or you?
-
Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: May 24th, 2025 11:20
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Soman Ragavan
Offline)
Comments3
A most wonderful comment in poetic form of man's and woman's disfigurement thinking we can improve on what we were given. Lovely and a fave
Thank You Soren I appreciate your feedback
Them lips....glad I'm past the kissing stage.....
Quite possible to relate to this one.
Thank you Dave I appreciate your feedback
The poem title is apt. The body is a bazaar. While many creatures groom themselves (eg birds pruning their feathers), none does it like humans do. There is a whole industry about grooming, hair care, nail extension, fake finger nails, etc. We do everything to delay ageing, to hide wrinkles, fight the ravages of ageing, etc. There was one guy who had a pig’s heart transplanted into him. There is one snag with the pacemaker : it can drop dead when you are in the middle of nowhere, with no medical help available.
It is strange that cheeks CLIMB while earlobes DROP… Anyway, it has been said that after 50 everything heads South…
There is an Indian proverb : “It is not death, but life which is a wonder in this body of ours….” The fact that we should survive in spite of all the risks we take, all the violent things we do --- this is the wonder. Death is not the wonder. Soman Ragavan. 25.5.2025
----------------
Thank You I appreciate your feedback
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.