Pocket Pleasure Poem About Being Addicted to Your Phone and Technology Every time I turn you on and wake you from your technological slumber, I feel your curses swimming through my mind - electrical impulses gripping me without consent. And then I hate my neediness. Hate my discontent, unable to sit alone in the silence without your warm glow, without your unending hits of dopamine. I'm addicted to a hooker personally on call for me 24/7. Who's ready and willing to meet my every need. Who's ready to stroke my ego on demand. Who's ready to enrage me with the news. Who conceals my flaws and accentuates my strengths. Who vindicates me in the face of enemies. Who lets me ride the tide of emotions on repeat. Who never asks me for my money. Only my time. Justin Farley
Beauty's Elegy Beauty is dead. She's decaying in her casket by common consent. She withered and shriveled into a ghost because our eyes no longer saw her, glued to our synthetic screens, while she sensually danced begging for attention but found no audience among this generation. Beauty cried out but her shouts went unnoticed among a litany of dinging alerts until she collapsed in the corner. This awareness, this guilt hurts to know we divorced Beauty for that slut Pixel who hides far too many secrets beneath her flawless exterior for comfort. Her digital surgeries are occurring every second, wiping any trace of the real from her appearance. Beauty, I miss you. You didn't have to hike your up skirt and have your tits casually falling out of your shirt like some trashy hooker to get lookers. Your imperfection was perfection - raw, real, and flushing with life. Beauty, do we not see what we've done to you, to us? Our hearts are now tangled in lust longing for a mirage that fades the second we close in on it. We can no longer trust our eyes to tell us what's attractive because it's all deceptive, marred by more digital makeup that we can wipe away. Beauty, I - for one - rue the day your beautiful body died. I'm convinced you're still out there, floating around looking for a body. For if I unplug my vampiric friends long enough I swear I catch glimpses of you. Beauty, I tell it true - though we may not know it yet, we've never more desperately wanted and needed you. Justin Farley
Satan's Speech A Narrative Poem with Religious Themes Satan stepped up to the podium, cleared his throat, and tapped the microphone to address his legions of demons gathered with each new, human generation to discuss matters of military penetration. "It is no longer necessary to corrupt good for evil," he said. "It's quite satisfactory to distract the mind and heart from mission to resignation, carried away by the slews of sedition, soul-numbed in leisurely pursuits. Preferable, in fact. For who questions convenience? Which one of your clients challenges comfort or inspects the tools built by good intention?" "If there's one thing we know, dear friends, is how given the choice, the allure of sin is stronger than righteousness in even the nicest fellow. But sin disguised as harmless, helpful, fun, beguiled by necessity for modern life... well, that's the Trojan Horse that turns the tides of war - the break we've waited eons for." A light echo of laughter broke out across the room. Abaddon leaned in close to the mic, "If you don't understand the chuckle of your neighbor, you're far too young to understand our plight across the ages and the countless battles we've fought for control of the human heart. For even the wisest sages are penetrable in a world of distraction. We no longer need to trade truth for lies. Just simply plant alibis to embrace the easy and immediate in favor of the important and inconvenient until it becomes buried beneath a pile of endless beeps, dings, and buzzes, and they'll forget Truth was ever there to begin with." He grabbed the mic from the stand and began pacing across the stage, his powerful, intoxicating shadows dancing across the walls, magnified by the candlelight. Lucifer continued, "Could it get any easier, my friends? Remember the centuries when we'd have to convince them to pluck the fruit fully aware of their sin and our whispers slithering out of the bush?" "We now simply need to convince them that the world has grown far too large for them to make a difference, that their lives are too busy for prayer, and that reading is antiquated... far easier to keep that vile book we all abhor out of their hands than convince them it belongs in the trash." "Don't you know 'faith without works is dead'?" Belial said with a smirk. "And modern technology keeps their restless hearts so busy, they don't even realize they're dying inside." A deep, wicked, bellowed laugh amplified from the stage and an applause rang throughout the crowd. Justin Farley
Sweet Utopia The sounds of motorcars are noxious to the ears. Fingers convulsing on the steering wheel precede the piercing screams of honks - an abundance of impatience. Where are you going in such a hurry? Is it worth sacrificing peace of mind for seconds of time? Oh, yes I forgot... You've got poisonous news to devour and social media garbage to digest, getting cold on a plate at home. Push the pedal harder. Forget "come to a complete stop". More honks to get that asshole in front of you moving. Don't they know you're starving and have been craving bright screen and mindless scrolling all day? Ignore your kids' greetings at the door. Ha! That's a laugh. They're alone in their rooms, feeding on their own hyper-stimulation, being raised by those lovely YouTube personalities. It's comforting to know they've got such nice boys and girls to keep them company. How'd you get so lucky to have such quiet kids, numbed in addiction-fulfilled stupor? Shit. Where did the time go? Looks like another night of little sleep and a yawn-filled morning. It's a good thing you saved that time racing home from work or you'd really be behind. What a wonderful utopia we've created. Poem by Justin Farley
Hello, everyone! I have recently published my first chapbook of Christian poems titled “A Voice in the Wilderness – A Chapbook of Poems about God”. This has been developed and polished over the past six months or so. I am happy with the final product and hope you find encouragement in the poems but also a validation that the spiritual life is not all sunshine and rainbows. We all struggle. We all have periods of questions and/or doubt. But it is the yearning that keeps us coming back for more and allows us to experience joy.
You can purchase either on Amazon or on my own bookstore (it is cheaper and has free shipping on my store) and is available on the Kindle and in paperback.
Amazon: Kindle Paperback
Inkspiration Books (my bookstore): Paperback
Thank you for your support!