Closed Windows
The screen yawns wide,
empty as the Nullarbor plain—
"no comments posted yet," it whispers,
a sign more accusatory than absent.
You may look, it says, but don’t touch.
Permission belongs to ghosts,
long gone or never given at all.
Kindness cracks its knuckles,
flicks a cigarette to the curb—
museum-bound, archived, unreachable.
What thoughts could fill the void?
Too dark. Too light. Too wrong.
And yet the cursor waits,
blinking endlessly, smug
as a lighthouse shining
on waters you’re not allowed to cross.
So, here we are, friend— reading windows
that don’t know the name of the wind,
nor the whisper of tides rising too far to span.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline)
- Published: July 3rd, 2025 05:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 25
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Tristan Robert Lange
Comments9
And as you read these words spanning seas and vast tracts of land know that on the other side of the world someone got your message. Against technology in many ways it has made knowledge and poetry wider spread some false knowledge and some shall I say disposable poetry but none the less available. However technology i.e.. computers seem cold and distant. Some great metaphors used I particularly like the second to the last stanza that means something to me because I come from that time when the cursor blinked and remember well that wait. A fave
Thanks Soren, truly appreciated ๐๐๐ป
A nicely crafted write, some lovely lines around I feel the coldness of technology and we expect everything from it now, where as before we were happy to wait and took our time to find the answers, enjoyed the read
Youโd think that by now it wouldโve warmed up to us the way weโve made it an intimate part of ourselvesโฆ still a long , long way to go. Thank you kindly dear friend ๐๐๐ป
You are very welcome
Woof! Fido of course understands every cryptic meaning. He will explain them all to me later. lol.
Thanks O ๐๐๐ป
Your words echo in the hollow of the screenโ
a lighthouse I long to answer, but dare not cross the unseen.
Seems a lighthouse is no match for the perils of the deep! Thanks as always dear friend ๐๐๐ป
...dismal in the absence of whatโs meant to be present
Indeed. Patience no longer seems to be a virtue in this culture of convenience and instant gratification. Well expressed, my friend. A fave. ๐น๐
Oh patience thou weariest of graces, thin are thine raiment and tossed by every gust of wind!
Perfect response!
Thanks for the Fave my fab friend @Tristan
There is a touch of sadness here and a feeling of not being appreciated and being excluded.I certainly can relate to this.I like the metaphors like reading windows without knowing the name of the wind. Well done
Thanks, and for striking gold at the heart of the poem. Your understanding is well acknowledged and affirmed ๐๐๐ป
My cursor is always moving as I type these words arqios.
Andy
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