Sep 2013
The effort's mundane and we are dedicated participations.
A simple string of words exchanged,
Letters beamed up to satellite and scribbled on page.
Numbers and lines decoding our blind conversations.
Proximity proves that the heart is immune to location.
A scratch in your voice and a beep from the other line,
Pixel-ized faces only numb the passing time.
The lack off emotion masks a lonely frustration.
We are lacking what our connection needs most.
A fickle flicker that exchanges what we need to know.
Doomed by imprisonment behind screens and phones,
and I am acting as the predators host.
I vibe what should be felt up close,
The most transparent thing to see.
Commonly focused on something other than me,
the eye has no agenda to boast.
Utterly infected by this exuberant virus,
holding my court,
preventing distort,
I am the Iris.
(possibly, maybe, not finished)
A simple string of words exchanged,
Letters beamed up to satellite and scribbled on page.
Numbers and lines decoding our blind conversations.
Proximity proves that the heart is immune to location.
A scratch in your voice and a beep from the other line,
Pixel-ized faces only numb the passing time.
The lack off emotion masks a lonely frustration.
We are lacking what our connection needs most.
A fickle flicker that exchanges what we need to know.
Doomed by imprisonment behind screens and phones,
and I am acting as the predators host.
I vibe what should be felt up close,
The most transparent thing to see.
Commonly focused on something other than me,
the eye has no agenda to boast.
Utterly infected by this exuberant virus,
holding my court,
preventing distort,
I am the Iris.
(possibly, maybe, not finished)
This is a similar subject matter to my poem Anti-Scientist. Basically about how eye contact and the connection people get in person can never be replicated through any other form of communication. In many of the long distance friendships I have, I feel like I have to act as that unseen force that is extremely delicate and has to be felt with the heart and mind. It's weird that writing a poem can seem to crave a longing and solve a negative feeling, yet the same feeling I had years ago is back. and in the form of an Iris. Enjoy.
