Wickedness

WICKEDNESS

(A Haiku)

Wickedness is bad

And yet wickedness is fun

We wrestle with it
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                          beloavaan

DIGITAL DREAMING

In days gone by the little children

Gazed at picture-books.

They could tell an artist's work

By the artificial looks.

I never, for one moment, puzzled

Over illustrations;

They were, clearly, quite unreal,

Portraying situations

Which pretended to happen in Fairyland,

Or underneath the sea.

A line was very clearly drawn

Between them and reality.

Now, however, the fantasies

Seem like the genuine article;

The digitisation has progressed

To every little particle,

So that only an adult can, at once,

Recognise the sleight of hand;

We seem to have an era

Of reality on demand.

But I wonder about the children,

The ones of three or four,

Who gaze at videos and such,

Which most of them adore.

Take the picture up above;

It appears to speak the truth,

And I wonder how I'd have looked at it

If I'd seen it in my youth.

Would I have seen a photograph

Of somebody in mid-air

Held up by a bright bunch of balloons,

Seemingly dangling there?

And would I have thought it possible,

A delightful thing to do,

And would I have thought that, one day,

I'd like to do it too?

Imagination is wonderful,

To be encouraged in all,

But I worry about the children;

How do they see it all?

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