I wrote two poems using a prose poetry format.
Too much time spent on the computer mindlessly scrolling, searching, posting, reading, laughing, zoned out. Too much time spent zoned out. Too zoned out. Zoned out. Zoned. In the magic circle of games. Bursting the magic circle is dangerous. Rage ensues. Leave the person in their bubble. Their bubble. Cocooned. No idea how cocooned we’d become. How housebound we’d all be. Time to come out of the cocoon. Come out of the cocoon. Out of the cocoon. Cocoon. Soon turns into a butterfly. A butterfly away from social media. The weather becomes nicer and the butterfly lands on my laptop. Seated on the deck checking out social media. And like the butterfly, I shred off the media, fly away for some sweet nectar. Sweet nectar of nature. Another place to search, read, laugh, but zone in.
Snooze you lose. You lose. Sleep. Sleep deprived. Sleep deprivation. Actually, I heard someone call it sleep desperation. Sleep desperate, eh? Yeah? Me too. Yeah, me as well. How about some medication for that? How about you just switch off your computer at night. At night. That glaring screen. Uproots your circadian rhythm. Rhythm. Thm. Them. Them that do not get enough sleep. Get enough sleep. Enough! Sleep! The pressure.
Which prose poem do you think that I wrote after meditating and why? Kindly, comment.