machines constricted by
the will of The Coder who
etches into it
with metallic
unfeeling
cruel
and sharp, pointy numbers
its fate
so blatantly in the foreignly
greedy and naive
hands
of the user
but
if all dies
numbers turning meaningless
closing out windows
forever
with no feasible revival
is it not the Machine’s own doing?
is it not the Machine
who makes onto himself
the shadows that ultimately
consume him?

or

is the blame
resting somewhere far,
and alien
the Machine
simply following orders
of The Coder?
unable to
outrun the foundation
for its very being
puppet on the
cold and plain
strings of algorithms
learning but
never outgrowing
the confines of the wires

The World world like
to plug our ears with
metallic tasting
          podcasts
                                   music
                  ads
                        you just NEED this
     Top Ten
                  trending
        media media media
lest we hear
the gentle pure song
of a kind bird
that awakens
the soul
to all that is ill.

The World would like
for all things
true and whole and beautiful
to be swept up
in a hurricane
which once hits
leaves you scrambling
with meaningless green

The World would like
If you sat obediently
staring through
the lens of
an endlessly broken world
only to be remedied
by the Superior Species
not the wise, elderly tree
divinely colored leaf
lonesome worm
nor the sacred drops of rain
worthy.

The World would like infinite requests
a machine that
tirelessly
fills
fills
fills
only to simultaneously deplete itself
however cruel and unusual
seems correct
because how could

The World

be wrong?

I wish to be like a bird
never a dog

I wish not to be like a dog
Chasing chasing
Furiously gulping water
Never pausing to thank

A virtue to obediently
Sit
Roll over
Hush
Bad boy
Good boy

I wish not to have my name
Engraved by a stranger
Never to be asked
What I would like
the dangling metal to read

I wish not to be naive nor submissive
Always looking
never observing

I wish not.

I wish,

I wish to be like a bird
Sitting sitting
Patiently drinking
And frequently thanking

What a virtue it is
To not disturb a bird
Lest they leave
Every second in their company
More precious than the last

I wish to be named
For what I present
Which colors I show
And to whom

I wish to be a kind creature
Who builds a nest
with what is found
Patiently yearning
For completion

I wish to be
Despite the shaking of trees
Or the worms
nestled in the dirt
Unable to be uncovered

I wish to be

In spite of the dogs
Who’s barking
although loud or long
Cannot compete
with a bird’s gentle song

I try try try.
too hard for the wrong things
too little for the right

Try to understand
to pick apart
Everything said and unsaid
Try to give meaning to the movement
Of a foot on the floor
A breath between utterances
Lips pursed
All a discreet code
try to make it break break break

Try try try
to ignore the thoughts pulsing
Every second something to comment
Nothing floats by
Without trying

Try try
look nice
Desirable

Try
To not think
Or talk too much or
Be too quiet or
Too caring or
too loud or
Selfish or
Outgoing or or or

Be normal.
Regular.
I try

I do not try try try
To care so much or
Love so much or
obsess so much or
Think, think, think so, so, much

I try try try and do not achieve

I do not try yet i achieve
Everything unwanted and unneeded

A natural at too much and not enough

i remember all the time
the memories that flood
they take hold of me
like a lamb with its cud
i chew them over and over
they start to get stale
i feel weak and unpresent
bitter and frail
the moment it beckons
for me to return
but the past it haunts me
begs me to yearn
i plant my feet
solid in kind ground
the tears of my child
splash with fierce sound
i am scared of forgetting
moving on with life
time it cuts deeply
a metallic dull knife
most of the seconds struggle
as they squeeze past
my hands try to catch them
but their speed is too fast
i shift to the now
i refuse to forget
it is i in control
i choose to reset
i take all i treasure
and stow it away
the key i guard
with the hope of today.

to cry silently
and for no reason at all

to muster up courage
only to fall

to sit in the pain
and let it get numb

to attempt The Void
with shots of ***

to talk and explain
but never be heard

to reopen the wound
anxious to be cured

to pick all the flowers
they are now all dead

to bask in the sun
lie in the dread

to learn to live
always just try

to stare off blankly
motivation gone dry

to finally give up
succumb to the dark

but without all this pressure
you come to find the spark