Trainspotters & Kingsmen

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Trainspotters & Kingsmen

“I shall the effect of this good lesson

keeps a watchman to my heart.”

--William Shakespeare.

Watchman, walk your rounds,

until you hear the ram’s horn;

then clang the warning.

Watchman, watchman,

you have so many faces, so many names:

                sentry,

                scout,

                sentinel,

                spotter,

                lookout,

                guard,

                gatekeeper,

                constable,

                patroller, & policeman.      You were a 1796

                periodical established & edited by

                                 Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

                                                          You still are a daily

           newspaper in Sydney, Australia--the title of

                                  several novels, a graphic adult comic book,

           a rock band & so damn much more--

                                   security systems that monitor our homes

           when we are absent or asleep &

I like to believe that the watching carries on beyond this dimension

to include the spirit guides, angels, & demons that companion our

folly, routines, & daily grind. We are both repulsed & pleased to find

armed guards in malls, schools, & movie theaters on watch for the

pariah mad dogs that are attracted to public places.

I fear that the watching runs even deeper though,

         that we are observed, wire-tapped & listened in on

                 around the clock by Big Brother, sitting in their secure

                           dark rooms that are humming with technology, 

                 spying on us from our computers, phones, 

         notebooks, light bulbs, heater vents, & microwave

ovens--never alone, even on the throne

behind closed doors.

Actual privacy is hard won, elusive, & illusionary,

barely achieved on a 20-mile hike,

since we had to register our plans

with forest & park rangers, & we

encounter strangers behind every other tree,

& those pesky drones buzz above, watching

us with powerful digital eyes, as the silent squads

of silver satellites soar above them, criss-crossing

the stratosphere, watching everyone & everything,

becoming absurd anti-watcher’s watchers,

monitoring

      weather,

         lovers,

           drug deals,

                China,

                     Russia,

                        Japanese war games,

                     Detroit,

                  North Korea,

              ivory poachers,

          Iran, &

my back yard.

Without a doubt we need all the Watchmen, even though we 

resent & often rail against them, too soon forgetting that after

we moved beyond the controlling sphere of our parent’s purview,     

after the brief illusion of total freedom, we were forced to learn

& live by the Rules, the Codes of Conduct, the Moral Imperatives,

the ever present Controls that surround us, & when we violated

any of these, we experienced the unpleasant consequences of

our own actions. So--

We should respect those

Watchmen, who patrol para-

pets protecting us.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over on dVerse Poets Pub Poetics