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Boredom
by Tota LongmireBoredom lurks on the edge of consciousness,
Scoping out its prey like a vulture high in the sky.
I try futilely to keep it at bay with mindless tasks.
It circles ever lower growing bigger in the darkness of my consciousness.
Desperately, I turn on the computer.
Boredom looms on the edge of thought.
I dance impatiently in place - willing the computer on.
Bingo! Quickly, I seat myself and log on.
It becomes a desperate race between dialup and the dark cloud of boredom.
Finally, web screens pop up and change as I search for something
To sweep me away from the out stretched claws of boredom.
Nothing. I begin to sacrifice myself to the boredom.
"Ding." Quickly, I glance at the computer -
A small square containing a screen name and only one word, "hi."
Hopefully, I turn to the computer as the boredom pauses, unsure.
As I swiftly type back, "hey there,"
It begins to back away, sweeping out of my mind -
Away to harass someone else as I engulf myself in the conversation.
One conversation turns to many and the vulture of boredom is forgotten,
For a time. 12/20/2004 Posted on 12/21/2004
Copyright © 2025 Tota Longmire
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 01/27/13 at 09:32 AM your poetry tells it so like it is. it is more out of sheer habit and desperation that we log on, rather than making actual stabs at communication, which is a most difficult endeavor to achieve in the best of circumstances. and yet this ode communicates it rather nicely and is spot on. |
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