came a beacon from space
seeking an interface
with the people like me who live here
it began as a drone
something like a ring tone
from a cell phone hid deep in the ear

every man, woman, child
got the signal, first mild
maybe voices at night in their beds
and they said with smile
mad is now the new style
maybe time to try on some new threads?

and that call from the dark
made our dull neurons spark
then our senes got set to re-tune
made our synapses blink
and our transmitters wink
as the dish run away with our spoon

just a lifestyle update
where the jackets were straight
we put padding all over our walls
haut couture, a la mode
from that cosmic download
sending patterns designed to enthral

as the fashion year passed
the array grew more vast
we got faxes then texts with a 'Ping!'
next came video feeds
thanks to fast network speeds
making visions the next 'must have' thing

soon the experts concurred
a malfunction occurred
when they asked for a status update
and our mind's IT suits
sent emogies and tweets
and world leaders kept saying 'it's great'

they just could not conceive
of the stuff we'd receive
so the doctors suggested some pills
that would keep us they'd hope
from the end of a rope
put an end to what they saw as ills

so we'd do what they say
- pills don't work anyway
we believe what we want to believe
and next time we won't tell
we know their system well
it’s a shame, but it’s best to deceive

'til their memory clears
and that cursor appears
on the screen at the front of their minds
neon green set on black
saying join us and crack
and we'll lead as they follow behind

sanity's last year's fad
now the new black is mad
it's en-vogue, it's so rad, today's meme
they'll get hip, get on trend
come unzipped, round the bend
and be so two-oh-seventeen

become part of the fad
where decisions are bad
and we vote for those more mad than we
emperors in new clothes
like the ones we have chose
for this end of the world jamboree

let the normal folk talk
while we stalk the catwalk
pop the cork - our mad moment is here
and don't have any doubt
when these mad duds wear out
we'll be wearing psychotic next year

I wish to age like a wrap-around porch
In a thunder storm,
While generations tell tales,
Sipping drinks.
A porch of blinking stars,
A place to run out of rain,
With wooden steps for deliveries,
With ascending and descending friends.

I will age like a tree,
Grow stronger in the wind;
Give shade and shelter to all
Beneath my ring-aged limbs.

I wish to age as a river bends,
Contiguous with all shores;
Floating everyone I know
On eternal waters defying death,
A current winding with no rest.

I will age like a star,
Burning bright, giving light,
Something to reach for.

I wish to age like a mountain,
With secret caves and riches.
And you can rock your soul
Around, over or through,
Solid, snow-capped summit,
Beckoning you.

I will age as the moon,
In stages, full and new;
Each night different,
Unnoticeable fading,
As all who age will do.

Thank you all very much for your thoughtful, insightful and kind comments. It's a wonderful surprise and honor to be chosen for the daily, as there are so many damn good poems written by the poets here every day. And especially a sleeper like "I Will Age." I guess it's a lesson to be learned. Thanks again to everyone, and especially to Hello Poetry for giving us this marvelous opportunity to publish.
Peace to All.

Could the sun be
    a hole up there—
    that if I could leap
    would enter that breach of light

   Throw me a line!
   Give me a reason
   There’s never enough
   in this life of breathing!

   Explain why dreams roll a soul
   toward the cliffs of day
   Wakes to ache
   then stuffs its mouth
   with necessary same
   button shirt—brush hair
   necessary glance in the mirror
   (yes, still there)    

A lifetime!
   in a shallow instant’s stiff clear water
   (Yeah— still there)  
   in endless caverns of tired eyes
   above mouth still trying
   to say SOMETHING!  
   from ever smaller eternities
   in the glass-flat empty....

Please! Someone explain!
   this draw of breath
   one forcing itself upon another's
   of beating —
   Violence in my chest!

Why hearts don’t sleep—

and I wind up watching
again and again—till
I am the voyeur...

...Morning lies
   in the mists of a humid whore
   who moans and sweats
   and boils her hips—
   and I wind up watching!?

“Will someone please…!"

   ...and I wind up watching
   bedspread, bed sore, death bed
   till you’re breathing easy
   when she sits and picks
   her collapsed bouffant
   damning the makeup
   that got crushed in the sheets


   with no expectancy
   both tired of knowing...

   ...The Devil lost his balance
   in my presence one night

...tired of knowing—


  ...walk away
   or continue to play

   I could open this screen!
   watch the world STEP BACK!
                                 SLAP FLAT!
   as trees and dwellings flush like quail
   to prop their tottering panic
   against the blue—

You—assume composure...
   compose assumptions
   Await my next—

Move like a spy

Why I don’t play chess or any other game
for that matter.    
“...and when you're really out there
the windows all have opened onto nothing...
Death having long since-- left the scene.
When you get really out there
it's all--
and nothing…”

do not let me
give you
anything less than
milk and honey.
do not let me feed your soul
with emptiness.
empty words.
empty beauty.
empty love.
let every space
that i fill
be occupied by a love
that was worth all we did
to find it.
let me fill in the blanks you keep
with words that come from truth
let the beauty that i give you
mean something to you.

going out for a drink on a weekend night
is like stepping into a zoo run by the animals
it becomes profoundly depressing
the people stumble and slur
spit and hack and vomit on each other
scream and fight and babble about nothing
it’s like a ralph steadman drawing
the scene is grotesque
and I begin to wonder
my god,
is this what I normally look like to the people around me?

nights like these make me question my choices
the drink no longer works and it grabs my hand
as it takes a nosedive off
the cliff’s edge I was so tentatively balanced upon

a drunk man with barbeque sauce spread across his face
says he likes me and has a gift for me
it’s a lint-covered pile of
chewing tobacco directly from his pocket
I haven’t said a word
he doesn’t know me
he doesn’t like me
I don’t like him
I look at his eyes
there’s nothing in there

someone go find the zookeeper

My lover asks me:
"What is the difference between me and the sky?"
The difference, my love,
Is that when you laugh,
I forget about the sky.

Go, Soul, the body’s guest,
Upon a thankless errand;
Fear not to touch the best;
The truth shall be thy warrant:
Go, since I needs must die,
And give the world the lie.

Say to the court, it glows
And shines like rotten wood;
Say to the church, it shows
What’s good, and doth no good:
If church and court reply,
Then give them both the lie.

Tell potentates, they live
Acting by others’ action;
Not loved unless they give,
Not strong but by a faction.
If potentates reply,
Give potentates the lie.

Tell men of high condition,
That manage the estate,
Their purpose is ambition,
Their practice only hate:
And if they once reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell them that brave it most,
They beg for more by spending,
Who, in their greatest cost,
Seek nothing but commending.
And if they make reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell zeal it wants devotion;
Tell love it is but lust;
Tell time it is but motion;
Tell flesh it is but dust:
And wish them not reply,
For thou must give the lie.

Tell age it daily wasteth;
Tell honour how it alters;
Tell beauty how she blasteth;
Tell favour how it falters:
And as they shall reply,
Give every one the lie.

Tell wit how much it wrangles
In tickle points of niceness;
Tell wisdom she entangles
Herself in overwiseness:
And when they do reply,
Straight give them both the lie.

Tell physic of her boldness;
Tell skill it is pretension;
Tell charity of coldness;
Tell law it is contention:
And as they do reply,
So give them still the lie.

Tell fortune of her blindness;
Tell nature of decay;
Tell friendship of unkindness;
Tell justice of delay:
And if they will reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell arts they have no soundness,
But vary by esteeming;
Tell schools they want profoundness,
And stand too much on seeming:
If arts and schools reply,
Give arts and schools the lie.

Tell faith it’s fled the city;
Tell how the country erreth;
Tell manhood shakes off pity
And virtue least preferreth:
And if they do reply,
Spare not to give the lie.

So when thou hast, as I
Commanded thee, done blabbing—
Although to give the lie
Deserves no less than stabbing—
Stab at thee he that will,
No stab the soul can kill.

 Jun 19 Eliot York

Running inside, closing down and shutting off
It might be easy for some
It's torture to me... I torture myself.
No one cares when I disappear
No one notices
My phone doesn't ring.
Maybe I miss Facebook events
Some of which included a family death
And still, my phone didn't ring.
No one knocks on my door
No questions are asked of what's going on
With me,
in me.
When I announce my retraction
They slightly caring folks will await
A Facebook update
They don't call.
The whole world goes on
while I'm trying to not post my depression
for the five friends that care.
Although the care only reaches as far as
waiting for my facebook post
telling them I'm "ok"

 Jun 13 Eliot York

Color Me Yellow

I grew up knowing
to never look at the sun,
to just trust it was there.

I was taught,
to never look forward,
if the light is yellow.
"Prepare to stop."

I don't see color anymore,
except red.
except when the pain in my eyes
almost reached a different pain on my thighs.

we're Bright
even when nobody can ever see it
nor direct or indirect
Nor behind or in front.
nor in front or above you,

hanging like the photos of
when I used to be happy.


Got into a fight
Next page