The Poetry Marathon

Hour Five: The last time I went there

The green fields I see out the window
always remind me of earlier travels
It doesn’t matter that I have not seen them before
I think the color is enough to spark the memory

Farmlands punctuated by electrical towers
always let me know where I am on the journey
The buildings all look the same
it is the spaces between that matter

I see a small truck going the opposite way on the side road
and wonder where the driver is going
The train probably doesn’t even register in his thoughts
he’s got places to be

It’s that last familiar landmark
that always reminds me I’m almost there
I can breathe easier now
but with that slight twinge of anticipation

I think about who will meet me when I arrive
seems it’s always been too long since I was last there
It will be too soon that I have to leave
I remind myself that I can always go back

(13 August 2016)

In a WORLD OF TECHNOLOGY

Blame technology…said society…

For our morality…it is our enemy…

So cold and mechanic

So dull and gray… what a shame

Technology to blame. For our mistakes …

Stop the advancement!

Let’s live in the past..!

See you don’t have to choose between nature our future…

We both need them the same …

And all we need to do

Is change is our mindset…

In a world of technology ..we are our own enemy…

 

And we reflect our own reality …

Take care of our world and advance in our schools…

Let’s find the path to embrace the brightness of humankind…

And empower the minds…not enslave them to such …

See you don’t have to choose between nature our future…

We both need them the same …

And all we need to do

Is change is our mindset…

Five Minutes Friendship

The traffic halted,
I sighed…another slow ride.
Yawned and closed my eyes…

Sparking fancy car
Moving slowly side by side.
Two sad brown eyes
Peering through the glass window of a luxurious ride.
He made silly faces but no happy sight.

Our eyes met …
I smiled and mouthed the word “Hi”.
He waved and blew, “Thank you.”
He giggled a little and gestured,
The food on his lap.
A little child, barely a kid having breakfast
In the backseat of a fancy car.
While mom and dad busy fiddling their gadgets.
Talking to an invisible friend

As we waved goodbye,
In a morning traffic jam
In five minutes time
I met a tiny friend
Whom I learned.
The paradox of time.
We have more but we grow less.

1:19 –

I used to press four wheels under one board on the roads on DC

Leaning on my toes to move left then leaning towards my heels to move right

I used to make waves downhill on the pavement

Seeking stimulation in falling

 

Now, here

In Charlotte

I ride circles around the curving parking lot of my apartment complex

Searching for the same kind of stimulation

 

 

As a budding youth I sought stimulation in the auditory and the visual and the consumable

sitting still, soaking in the digital light of the television

Or giving myself up to the sonic awe of music

Or developing a dependence on caffeinated syrup and sugar

 

As I’ve grown I’ve noticed that

This need to be stimulated exists in everyone

 

From the rebel to the soldier

From the Romantic to the cheater to the homewrecker

From the drug dealer to the drug addict

 

From birth from the grave

Isn’t it strange how our own vessels, our own worlds, can become not enough?

And when we seek to push past that, that’s still most likely what remains, not enough

Humanity 2.0

When we will stand and greet the future

Then doff the cloak of the darker times

Where is the cure?

Where is the plan?

To unite the world of the faltering man?

Here are the lights and the wires and the frame

Of a future so bright

With a pilot so dim

Instant message

Electric correspondence

Book of faces for time and long lost spaces

This world is rife of future endeavors

Yet still I wonder if things should ever get better

For every advance in machine and means

We step away further from being

Human is a word of days late

To be feared and surpassed

To be treated as one more affliction

Technology and all its wondrous things

Stand hollow to the course on which man has placed its feet

 

 

Glowing box

A bustling city sidewalk

people rushing to and fro

would offer up a greeting

ask the time, and say hello

a family at dinner

chatting on about their day

the air filled with such laughter

as children run and play

 

The faces on the sidewalk

no longer stop to greet

the families don’t sit down

together when they eat

a playground much less vibrant

the children all but lost

they all have been held captive

by a glowing info box

Before Darkness #3

An amber orb, waltzes daintily in the sky,

drowning in the orange streaks above the horizon.

Light slithers away,

relinquishing its claim over the terrain with a cry.

 

Malevolent shadows,

hide in every nook and cranny

waiting silently for darkness

to make its grand entrance, to propose.

 

The tawny expanse

evolves into a dark blanket

of shimmery blues and blacks-

glimmering specks of romance.

 

Gossamer clouds hide under gauze veils

and galaxies glitter like uncut diamonds fit for a wedding ring.

Mulberry paints the sky,

the colours swirling to form spectacular images and tales.

Cybernetically Yours

Your hand so cold, clenches mine,
Unrelenting grip, inescapable since your return.
You can’t realize, sensory memory vanished under the knife,
How far I won’t go, how little you have to fear I might disappear.
The machine tells us so, the beast that remembers your absence
Recording waves sucked from space, you, me ionically, bionically, your clutch keep.

5

All hail the almighty like !
Hold on to it for your dear life.

No, really, be vigilant and watch your friends –
who likes, who doesn’t, who pretends.

A like can save you from tsunami,
can gain you sales on origami,
can save a girl in starving country
but will it fill your empty pantry?

A lack of likes can kill your day,
hang like a shadow in your sunny May,
and make a girl, who isn’t liked,
commit an early suicide.

All hail the almighty like !
Hold on to it for your dear life.

For if you don’t, then your friends may
Find someone else, who likes this way.

Poem 5

Chapter 5: Promises

 

A year exactly

Gone

I waited at the docks

For him all yesterday.

 

How, again,

Are we standing in this river

washing sheets?

Sister and I,

Never escaping this intricate knot

Of time.

 

When we were young

Sister would gaze –

Cast a net wide into the future

And haul it in –

 

This game she’d start in a mystical voice with a mystical phrase:

“Queen of the entire west that we have never seen

Where language runs like rivers from the tongues of poets,

I imagine for you a prince.”

Eyes unfocused, drifting in the wind.

“He will fly!” she’d promised me.

 

And now, the wind yanks at our hair,

Seeps time from our bones.

We, alone, stand.

 

That last time, Sister’s prophecy became a threat.

She’d said, “With him, you will see much suffering.

He will burn for you, and you will burn.

And, with him, you both shall rise from ashes.”

 

A dark promise.