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  Apr 2016 Ross J Porter
Grace Porter
“It’s the new sensation that’s gripping the nation!”
It is the greatest thing humanity has ever seen,
a phone with a touch screen…

Everyone has one now,
it’s as normal as having fingers
an extension of our arms.

Pinterest, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr…
all have to be checked, watched, updated.
I have to spill my guts to a screen behind which hides strangers.

“I know you. from Facebook.”  That’s what they all say.
The thing is I don’t know you,
you are the person who found me through a mutual friend
a mutual friend of a mutual friend.

I don't know you,
You haven’t updated your feed in months.
you know me though.

Last week on twitter you saw I had posted that I was feeling depressed.
Two nights ago on Instagram that picture of me at a party
today at lunch, on Facebook I posted a tribute for my second cousin.
a mutual friend.

there is no sensation…
I have a callous on each of my fingertips
the overheating screen no longer burns my hands.
the glow no longer irritates my eyes.

The phone with a touch screen,
sending us information from all of time and space
From love and tragedy.
From the good and bad

Every day I post what happens in my life.
the good the bad and the ugly
as cliche as it is there is no other way to say it.

Everyday I read about other people’s happy endings and good deeds
I read about the people who have conquered the world’s evils.
then I open a new tab and read about the ones who lost.
The girl who gave into the need of some comfort and let him do it
The boy who believed that he was so unloved he jumped it
The girl who starved to death so she could be skinny in the casket
The boy who is hurt by his parents so he hurts others to make up for it
The girl who finds the razor behind the shelf in the bathroom and uses it
The boy who takes the drugs to escape it
The girl who goes to prison for stealing it
The children who don't know what to do.

Because that’s the truth,
this is what the phone has done.
we can’t feel anymore.
there is no emotion in a text message.
on social media.

there are only empty word of condolences and congratulations
the only honest thing online is hate
hate to another person because you can’t stand the idea
That they can still feel
and you lost that ability when you let the phone pull your soul out and dump it in a database
called Facebook, Instagram, and twitter.

They own you now,
they tell you what you are
who you are
and who you’re going to be.

the world’s greatest invention is what’s going to **** us.
Ross J Porter Apr 2016
Knowledge is butterflies in flight.
A doubting caterpillar needs
His faith in metamorphosis.
Without it his future: horror.

Mother gone this way before him.
Father gone before his time here.
The only hope: whispered instinct.
A still sound in the face of fear.

"Those who've gone before me", says he
"Loved me and wanted good for me."
"They willed me to believe in life
Beyond: the metamorphosis."

Every day, eat of leaf. Chew. Rest.
Do not wander ye from safety.
Heed ye these rules, follow the way.
Know ye that our decree's from love.

Brother tells tall tales, adventure
Excitement, a world of wonder
To have now! No waiting, no need
To wait, fear, hope. Enjoy it now!

Brother says: "metamorphosis
Is a tale made by those who want
To control and manipulate.
To keep us from pleasures in life."

Brother says: "The dark chrysalis
Is a grave, death, ending, final.
Now is time to discover.
What tastes good is the true good.

Only now do we have the chance
To learn, explore, see and enjoy."
He's eaten leaves outside the path.
Brother says: "they are juicy good!

Come all, leave this way mapped by those
Who want to keep you from juicy
Leaves and the whole wide world to see"
Brother says. "Don't hope, enjoy now."

Sister left the barque, left the safe
Path to the leaves mapped out by some
Unknown cartographer. Unknown!
She's not back. He hopes for her best.

But our caterpillar here, friend,
Has chosen the old dreams and hope.
To follow the path mapped to leaves
That nourish the body and heart.

He has chosen to believe that
The wisdom of age and instinct
Is more trustworthy than the word
Of youthful brother's juicy world.

His doubts he's cocooned in faith's silk.
These bland leaves he eats for promise
Of sweet flower's nectar beyond.
Today's toil for tomorrow's joy.

Doubt frightens. The chrysalis looms.
No control, nature compels it.
Unfair, afraid, the silk spins tight.
In pain, the world grows dark and still.

He faces his end. He must choose
To listen to the still, small sound.
Have faith he's not schizophrenic.
Believe in more passed the cocoon.

His ancestral council and creed
He chooses to embrace and trust
To face his end with dream and hope.
His doubts cocooned by faith in Love.

Butterflies are knowledge in flight.
For at their end, faith is fulfilled.
These butterflies their joy have reached,
Through faith in metamorphosis.
Ross J Porter Mar 2016
I saw the bright steel. It leapt from your lips.
Madness come tempted, black, angry, eclipse.
Once we long courses, abounding hardships,
Challenged together; no thought to call quits.
Then came war, sparing
No knife, not caring.
Weapons used knowing
Hate they were growing.
Now The Blade launched.
Locked target, unstaunched.
Why would my death cause
You cheer, your applause?
Fierce hatred burning, your
soul: scorched dune land.
Splaying, filleting at prayer's demand,
The Blade, a weapon convention won't use,
Hot steel released to new heights of abuse.
Mean dark cold ore pulled from lowest of rungs,
Loosed screaming weapon, with all of your lungs.
I sob and I puke, my chest you incise,
Ribbed wall tore open, my heart you excise.
Betrayed and agape,
a lie, said as true,
Avulsion of flesh
you cannot undue.
You dare speak of truth,
while feasting on gore,
Gorging on heart's flesh
still lusting for more?
Gnawing and biting,
perfumed in blood, hot,
Savoring my fear,
your reeking soul's rot.
Biting and chewing,
the taste, the sweet gift
Love ended proving.
This pain, you call shrift?
Colors of freedom,
Speak my vein's plight,
Face red, soon turns white,
'Till blue spells goodnight.
Eternal the rest,
That's destiny best.
I sleep not so blessed,
Your teeth in my chest.
You claim it's okay,
it was not from hate,
Tears shed for me
just carnage's
playmate.
Ruby sobs
marking
the cheeks
they striate
Fearful
in knowing,
in death I
await.
I know the indentation is odd... Zoom out on the page to about 50% and maybe you'll understand why...
Ross J Porter Mar 2016
Emotion is a wild beast, dangerous and unpredictable,
But when it is collared by reason and trained by self-discipline,
it becomes our greatest strength.
  Feb 2016 Ross J Porter
PoetWhoKnowIt
Take me off the pedestal
I am not what you see
That man's a miscreation
It's what i'd like to be

Take me off the pedestal
For it is far too high
For if I trip, slip, or fall
You'll think I was a lie

Take me off the pedestal
One cannot comprehend
To think 'tis where I stand
Make me not king, but friend

Take me off the pedestal
I've never felt so wrong
But please, oh please keep me in
your heart- that's right where I belong
Long time no see, folks.
Ross J Porter Feb 2016
Life is a journey,
A hike through your own
Forest of pain and woe;

A walk becoming;
A trip through your time;
A course to fields of peace.

Walk well on the path
You have now chosen
And heed the age-worn ways.

Embrace the challenge
Of forging the Way.
The end is ever near.

On what should you feed
On the journey life?
Will you be nourished well?

How shall you strengthen
the you, becoming?
Feast on the Bread of Life!

Food for the journey,
Feeding the Body,
And nourishing your soul.

Love made incarnate,
Broken and portioned,
The feast for life is Life.
©2016 Ross J Porter
Ross J Porter Aug 2015
In the deep beyond sun's shine,
I lie there, hidden in secrets, defined.
Deep, where the crystal blue turns charcoal black,
And lifelines of lies break from light's slack.

Diving down beyond the reach of light,
Plunging into my horrid un-perishing night,
Then manifests that most frightening thing to see:
A mirror reflecting the whole of me.
© Ross J Porter, 2015
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