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robot mom Sep 6
intrusive and violent thoughts permeate my subconscious mind. and i don't mind for the most part because self infliction will not start.

the thoughts sit and brews and stews — triggered by jealousy and self sabotage. when will my time come, when will i walk instead of run?

a cool breeze on a mountain top, i snap pictures of ruins and admire the past i never knew. what's old becomes new and what i knew becomes old.

the curtains unfold, opening the stage for an audience to view, no recording or flash photography while the performance is in process.

maybe someday i'll free myself from my own sabotage and jealousy. maybe someday there will be more freedom to be me and less time to worry about you.
robot mom Sep 3
days and nights of celebration
joyous, raucous, confrontation.
we bring forth the best of times
our lives filled with uphill climbs.

patience, breath, and listening to
things in life that come through-
and waiting, just waiting for it
to just feel right, the words
hanging off your lips

you know the ones
in between the sips
and careless whispers
and long glances.

just look into my eyes
and maybe stay a while.
SCREAMING INTO THE VOID
robot mom Aug 23
a routine that is getting old
when will my shell break from this mold
perhaps ill wear something bright and bold

perhaps my actions will come back to haunt
proving that i was the one who was wrong

maybe i should turn back…
maybe i should sing a song

sitting here, oh so clear,
the message and the path are near—
the work still to be done, will it take very long?

i walk on as i sing my song
the one you taught me in a dream
where we broke apart from the seams
from who we were- into the people
we were meant to be, you and me,

now it's just me, fending for myself
we grow without guidance,

no one knows the right or wrong way
and it scares me that ive lingered around

home and comfort,

maybe i shouldnt stay
maybe i should just-

get out of my own way
when your life is unclear write a poem and shed a tear
robot mom Mar 27
It begins with a sketch. Then a thought.

A question: inquiring further to develop a solution.
Resolve an issue creatively: brainstorming, creative thinking, problem solving.
Trusting your gut, asking for help, and listening.

Thinking about people.
Who is this for? Where are they located?
How will they see it? How will it benefit them?
What is the impact? What is our desired outcome?

A return to expectations. How do they compare to reality?

Another question: do our goals line up?
Is the long term strategy supported by smaller plans?
And do we lift others up instead of pushing them down?
robot mom Mar 15
vous pensez que vous savez plus que moi.
robot mom Nov 2018
the time is here,
when we think about the end
of the year             how things  have fallen
                                                        right into place
                                                             did everything
                                                                turn out your way?
                   or were you left in dismay
                   clothes in the hamper and
                   on the ground, in disarray.
robot mom Sep 2018
9/20/18
9:26 am

The people I meet in dreams don't remember who I am. I knew you back then, I say. You know me. But I think about the ways I am different from then, how fear made me shift in ways I can't describe.

There isn't enough time to tell the stories of my becoming,
as I am still becoming.

Winter is my season. No stranger is the cold, dry air to my nostrils. The wind whips my face, lashes for every breath taken for granted.

Ice awakens ancestral knowledge,
not of human origin but geologic time.

When did we become vessels for truth? For the words on my lips crawl from a well of pain, fragments bubble to the surface.

Pieces to a puzzle only I can solve.

I wonder, does the core of our planet feel the way we do? Does she writhe in pain the way we do? Is she lonely, like me? Does she feel alive when the sun beats across her face, and does she dance across space to feel alive, like I do?

Earth wept when we plotted her demise, victim to the narrative of a civilized society. Human progress is nothing but power and glory.

How have I been so complicit in your suffering, I ask.
The Earth remains silent.
life is really hard RN and I don't know how to talk about it, here is a poem.
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