there was a moment in time
when death sat beside me on a park bench
and he had rested his hand on the gap between us

i,

too,

rested my hand there
and brushed my fingers against his

and for a chaste moment
i savoured the warmth of his skin
and intertwined my hand with his

but he stood up

and left

and maybe he knew,

it was for the better.

Do ya ever feel like a shipwreck adrift in the water
Pieces of ya scattered like a lamb after the slaughter,
a mere shadow of your former sweet innocence
barely bobbing above the big sonar rinse?
Can't believe what ya read
nor believe what your supposed to believe.
Can't help wonderin' bout the agenda
Definitley can't pretend not to.
I suppose ya just have to go a bit numb
Drift on the wave and play kinda dumb.
CCTV surveillance, so called necessity,
oh **** big brother's watching ya ***.
Google is god and god is dead
Oh **** the'll crucify me for what I've just said.
Street lights ain't just street lights anymore
they're stickin' cameras in 'um expecting us to eat crow.
We'll all be robots that's the plan
punch ya in, download, scan.
Chips in your brain, chips in your nose
they'll go with us wherever we goes.
The grammar's all wrong. It's the prediction text.
No need for fingers. it's all effortless.
We're losing our common sense and our low-fi cities.
I'm losing my mind and I dont even feel ******.
They're cuttin' down trees 'cause they're blockin' our signies
and burnin' and lootin' 'cause they've got some agendies.
We're loosing our birds, they're falling out of the sky.
Would connecting the dots lead us to  the wyfry?
Losing's all right once ya get the hang of it.
Be fine in the mornin' and get back in the swing of it.
Turn on the screen, see what's new,
choke on our Krispies 'cause we forgot to chew.
Ah who cares our thoughts ain't our own.
It's all covered and programmed by our phone
Yea
It's all fun and games when there's nobody home,
dinner's sprayed and modified to the bone.
God knows what's in the water, the vaccination.
No worries we're all sci-fried and on vacation.
Ah yea they've got us all pegged and amplified,
can't sleep anymore, we're all irradiated and wyfried.
Wyfry, shake, scramble, grill an' bake
uhuh it's the burnin' down of the human race.
ah yea it's the slow fry and burn at the stake.

You want to make the
pain happy? Like Gestapo you had
picked me. My half-poem becomes the antimatter.

Where has the sensuality gone
in the rose garden? Who was the changer?
What now honeybees are coming?

Between right and wrong
lives our god. Did you ever adored him
to change your gender?

I would rather a leader
who is willing to laugh in the face
of his enemies,
as they spread their ridiculous lies.
Than a teleprompter reading Eunech,
with empty space between his thighs.

a wearied heart dislikes a drawbridge
set to keep one out while letting one in
wearied by the stop and go
of the flow across it and of the flow under it

wearied of the constant up-and-down
pulling up, letting down
the never-ending demand for passwords
the disappointment in the incorrect answers

the fear that it chose wrong
that it will regret this choice
and thus it keeps out more than it allows in
gives more than it gets, which is just enough

just enough to keep it fed by hope
just enough to keep it alive and yearning
just enough of just enough
just enough of only enough

yet, that mustard seed of hope grows,
flowers, then casts more seeds,
fields of hope cover the heart
and Love returns, pure, immaculate

then the bascule ceases its wearying monotony
ceases its thoughtless habitual movements
settles into place, allows the natural flow
of letting-in and clearing-out to commence

beginning with Hope, Gratitude, and Love
ending with Life eternal


c. 2023 Roberta Compton Rainwater