At Least Who We Believe

Night Encroaches ~ Philip Brent

                       Night Encroaches ~ Philip Brent

Pause now, mere moments, amble along city streets.
Stroll down brassy, brightly-lit boulevards, replete,
Preening, peering at our distorted reflections, why,
Sumptuous shop windows, blank-eyed passers-by.
Captured in and by the lenses of many-eyed CCTV.
Our life’s digital Camera Obscura in 360 degrees
Do not stare nor act furtive, upturned collar, hide,
Do not ever let them suspect what lurks inside.

Somewhere, everywhere near, far, our images flit
Wait or flirt from screen to screen when we stand, sit.

Whether marching on or creeping down alleys dark
Mirrored in oil-mired puddles, curved glass panes, stark
Mounted, hung to protect all the unknown strangers,
Anticipating predicted collisions unpredictable dangers
Mysterious maladies, unknown disaster, future blast
Until we become nothing but shades by shadows cast
Outlined on daytime walls, backwards and forwards
Shrouded in silence woven of night’s black chords

Pushed from our castles, to pursue proffered magic
Lured naked into stark light, freedom deferred, tragic

In shambles, shackles, shuffling, whimpering, whining.
Mumbling our madness, words behind words, declining
Worlds, whispered wants, crafted characters, skullduggery
Moving through masquerade manipulations and mummery
Fitted-out in false faces, camouflaged, concealed, who asks?
Pretend people prey to pray, posing in profile behind masks
Only our eyes expressing, trying to tell our manacled marche
Salient stories rendered, portrayed in paltry papier mache
Our tales, of who we believe we are, will be; who we say
We have forever and always been, at least for today


See more of my creative offerings at:

Philip Brent Digital Art

Brent Harris Fine Art

Vida Voices

Scriggler TPM


The Extra Mile
Art, shirts and other gift items


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