Tag Archives: poetry

Improper Timing

I feel the changes coming

Some fast, some crawling, 

And some that have

Yet to move.

They keep coming

In drones,

At the most inappropriate of times:

When one is writing,

Or dreaming,

Or loving.

We attempt to remain

Like statues;

However, even marble is eroded.

Fear not when the heart

Suffers the same fate as Jericho,

For

Change seems to come with the number seven.

Techies

We are all zombies

nothing but hollow corpses

corrupted piles of shifting skin cells

dragging our empty bodies on the sidewalk

You see our brains have been eaten

Gnawed at by electrical signals and data signs

Technology has zombified us

Cursed us, bartered our soul with the devil

We are insects caught in the world wide web struggling to break free from the copper wires that wrap us up

The box-shaped screen is a freezer that contains our organs

Heart and mind sitting on ice,

A brain freeze developed from a milkshake mixed with sweetened websites and manilla colored computer files

And now we shift through these streets,

carrying our inhibitions and fears

Inscribing the new commandments on these tablets

Thou shall not post more than three pictures on Instagram

Thou shall always sleep with the phone next to your head

Thou who does’t not know the latest Buzzfeed post is a sinner

We have lost our humanity.

It was transformed by the gamma irradiated internet

And now we are nothing but hulking figures of angry information

Heads struggling to stay up as we are ensnared by the sights and sounds of a cell phone

You call this life?

When conversations slip out of our hands like tap water

and fluoridated feelings fall to the floor

It’s rare to be human these days

To hear the hums of the wind in the trees, feel the angel kissed breeze

For we are zombies,

Hollow hosts just hunting for the next human to follow

Autonomic corpses inserting our opinions in every USB port

Generation Y is in the pit of the alphabet for a reason

Because we shall bring about World War Z

It seems the Mayans were right, 2012 killed humanity over night

Survivors in a world of empty friendships

For we are the age of the apocalypse.

A Dance with D

I wrote this for you on a used plate

That once held hot pizza at four AM.

It was all I had

At the time.

My ink is having trouble staying

Colliding with old emotions in the form of grease.

But I managed to pierce deep enough to leave an impression on you

The curves of the plate,

Contours of cheeks

And the way your laughter

Mimicked praises

As our bodies danced

To worship their Creator

Moving by force unknown

Like the pen being pushed across this makeshift papyrus.

Cruel Unintentions

It started when you stopped biting your nails

You found something

Something I had been trying to show for months, only to have you discover it when you were alone

A calling

A light.

A dance between heaven and hell

This life

Is only so fragile

Suffering renews strength

and happiness is a relatively new invention

You found a part of yourself

A piece hidden amidst the anxiety

Lodged within the depression you ran away from

Deciding to dig deeper instead of being buried

You found the power to choose

To stick by your decisions, whether right or wrong

Before, you were a babe,

Thirsting for my honey

My presence was more than important, it was vital

But all children must leave the crib, I just didn’t expect you to go so soon.

Holding your head high as you finally grasped the ledge leading to heaven

You were closer to your dreams, but so much farther away from me.

 

A relic from your indecisive dynasty

To give you up is to give myself up

And to give up myself is to give up my self

Now viewed with appreciation over love.

 

Oh change, how cruel you are

To the one who doesn’t.

Shine.

What if an Armageddon meteor decided to suddenly crash into the world today, leaving only one other person alive…who would you choose?

Maybe that was a tad dramatic for an introduction, but I wanted you to know what your presence means.

It is stars in orbit,

Ink in quill pens,

Hearts in wrinkled hands.

I dare not to question for the mind seeks answers;

Because with you, my soul has enough proof to know that this passion we tend is purposeful, and that scares me.

Light is sacred for when it is gone, it is dark and my eyes are tired of gazing into the abyss of myself.

But you…you are the individual I dare to dream of,

The solitary being so beautiful that a garden has been sprouted simply from your beliefs.

Point in case, you are the soil to my seed.

The seaside cottage I can retreat to during the winter. Sand crawls between my toes as the wind tries to take us with him and I am ready. For nature has found a place for us to practice this pleasure.

Shine.

Shine.

Let your soul shine as if it were the last star hanging in the heavens.

These words. These confessions of the chaos within, allow them to stay with you when diving into the dark for it is down here where we shall meet.

The shadows from our pressed lips will fill the world with sounds while our hearts long for the silence found only when sitting next to each other.