Hour 4 Fake
Fake
striving for authenticity
but feeling like a
mannequin
randomly found in the
middle of the woods
banging out a song with no audience
and with no legs to run away
Prompt 1 (Water)
Around here
I stuff
When the feelings pour out
I’m usually all alone
In the shower
Sometimes I plug the tub
So my body can be
surrounded by the earth’s intelligence
I turn the head
for the most pressure
to feel something
it beats violently
on my chest
It reminds me of a heart that is there
I have established an intimate relationship
with staying afloat
Water has a different slant on therapy
I stuff deep
It cradles
Expresses care
Going beyond the surface
It prys my unclean loose
Sending reminders to save a little grace
For the decisions you have made
This body deserves love despite it’s past
Water keeps me from falling off the deep end
Anchoring the bias I hold against myself
Hour Three – Two Cellos Paint Pink
HOUR THREE –
Two Cellos Paint Pink Mary Pecaut
They lay upon the covers
resting on the final note
no encore needed
Crossover
Each plays their part
the way of trust
floating notes alight
on gut.
Three years or thirty five
each duet is precarious
Every new song longs
its’ home, a stradivarius.
Hour 4 A Benefit of “Real”lity T.V.
Reality T.V. is often seen staged. Underpaid actors and actresses pretending to be”real.”
Once in awhile a talented individual surfaces like a lost treasure. Erik-Michael Estrada, Lukas Rossi, Carrie Underwood, Chris Daughtry to name a few.
A musician with the voice of an angel,
a creation of a boyband,
or a frontman for a rock band.
Most days we can live without the drama back stories.
Who slept with who,
who hates who,
yelling, fighting, hair pulling…
attention-seeking jealousy on Jersey Shore.
Sometimes there is a diamond in the rough, a person who stands out from the rest.
The problem lies within this realm they originated from.
It’s not easy finding their “real”ness on reality T.V. perceived in fakeness.
Hour 5: Mirror or Window?
Are you telling me a story?
Giving me imagined characters
whose uncertain fates matter
enough to keep me caring
Are they me
wrestling with every struggle
choosing wrong choices
before our turning point?
Are you showing me a story
Giving me heroes and villains
who take less-traveled paths
which I can never walk
live thrilling lives
that I can never live?
On which side of the wall am I?
inside the story?
outside the room?
Is that honeysuckle
for feasting at the banquet
or woodbine
to hold me in bondage?
Are you showing me liberty
obtained or unattainable?
Should I try to escape
or am free?
Press Refresh
Year a needle scratch
endless on repeat.
A memory half-made up
A sensation far too real
Still hurts.
needle scratch
endlessly on repeat
Blind expertise Perfect consumption
Invisible skills Pretend to believe
Press refresh
By year a needle scratch
endlessly on repeat.
Memory half-made up
Sensation far too real
Still hurts.
A needle scratch
endlessly on repeat
Blind expertise Perfect consumption
Invisible skills Pretend believe
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Press refresh
Year by year a needle scratch
Endlessly on repeat
Still hurts.
Expertise pretend Invisible consumption
Blind half-made up Believe
Year by year
scratch.
Mathematical thoughts
Thoughts
Like irrational numbers
Endlessly whining
Often never pause
To take a break
And cannot be broken
Like zero cannot be divided
The only hope is
Logic
The End The Beginning
Where streams end
Rivers begin
Where rivers end
Seas begin
Where men end
God begin…
A Hundred Years Gone By
A hundred years from now
Will my grandchildren be shaking their heads
At the state of the world?
Will they be proud of what we fought for,
Or will they see it destroyed?
Will we return to our roots,
And throw out the AI?
Or will we be slaves to robots
And wait for the Jedi?
4
Patient, Old Spider, deftly spins,
His woven trap of sort-of-sins,
And waits the wayward’s flailing wings;
Wears him down, a’strumming strings.
One drink, one pill, one pipe, one peek;
Until he’s mummy-wrapped and weak.
And then Old Spider sucks him dry…
Of life, and love, and will to fly.