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I knew we were in trouble
when they taught the machines to talk

parliament of artificial owls
nocturnal park line pirates

watch and learn
these conspirators
abduct the listening chair
and strap deniability to
another infernal device

so some hotwired pilgriming woman
possesses superior ****** abilities
and a skill with
the violin, the pointy end

camera is king

yet all the negatives
have been destroyed
still somewhere out there
remains a flash card
and a hybrid set of eyes
watching all the people fall to pieces

we're perambulations around
collapsed buildings,
rather than the collapsing buildings themselves

me and the machine
of contradictions
sick as our secrets
with all kinds of shenanigans going on

welcome to the age of copying minds
onto hard drives and cellphones

a future too heavy to carry
and so we plant it deep into the soil
letting the cables sleep
like fading city lights, receding
like strange fractured reactors
at the edge of the world

in lieu of flowers send hope
Zywa Aug 3
Hairdressers, scissors,

razor blades and carotids --


yet, it does go well.
"De porseleinkast - Faxen aan Ger #2" ("The china shop - Faxing to Ger #2", January 29th, 1998, published 2018, Nicolien Mizee)

Collection "Out of place"
Zywa Jun 20
We are in danger,

yet we rather behave deaf --


Blasting lights. On. Off.
'108 Sound Rebellion' (Elisabeth Hubmann [Hall 1994], Giulio Tosti [Roma], Adrian Foster [Lethbridge 1982] and Michele del Prete [Venezia]), for organs and electronics
Parts 'Creation'/'Nature'/'Birds'/'Human'/'Machine'/ 'Disturbance'/'ALARM'/'Chaos'/'Aftermath'

Collection 'org anp ark' #220
A dangerous women, thats what i am
Get close, get hurt
Heard the rumor, thats why they’re in pain

You’re underestimating me,
I’m the evil queen,

Too bad, I might lay a knife near
Haven't you heard my dear
I will be to busy making deals with the devil
Suffer, suffer,  i ain’t easy

You made me love you within my heart
I promised i will be there
Tried to hurt me?

OUCH!
  
Bad idea , haven't you been warned
Now it’s my turn,
You thought you’d control me,  gone in the past
*
I won’t regret you, nor your love
I will love you forever
Sorry baby, you’re long gone

It kills, i told you not to mess around
Have fun on your ride to hell  

By: Zoulaikha
Zywa Apr 28
Red light on red wood,

as a warm glow of danger --


sur réalisme.
Collection "On living on"
Evie G Feb 24
No more poignant photographs.
No more signs of the times.
No more war stories.
No more scars with stories.
No more stories that scar.
No more futures dashed.
No more glass smashed.
No more Heroes.
No more ‘we rose
From the ashes.
The ashes will be too thin,
Blown too far apart by the toxic winds.
This cannot be a remix
Icarus eyes have killed the Phoenix.

There is no future,
There is no past,
When we face the atom blast.
Yeah, so basically this is a terrible day.
George Krokos Jan 31
The birds in the backyard often look there for food
and it seems they're doing so lately in a happier mood;
it was just the other day when I mowed the grass
so now they can move easily over it again and pass.
Their activity is done habitually each and every day
and watching them closely seems as if they're at play.

They scrounge on the soil with their beaks and feet
competing at times for some bite and morsel to eat.
When disturbed by a sound they fly up into any tree
away from the threat of danger they scamper and flee.
A human presence would be enough to get them going
particularly when heading in their direction knowing.

It's a bit of a delight to see them at play in their quest
doing what they all have to do to survive hunger's test.
I used to feed them some crumbs on a regular basis
which became a habit for me to them as in an oasis.
Together with water left in a plastic bowl for a drink
they'd a few things going for them one would think.

It was only after the local cats caught onto the idea
with their basic instinct, that food or game, was near.
One of them would come around and hide in the grass
crouching there patiently for the right moment to pass;
if the birds were unaware they would fly down to eat
of the crumbs left for them so their hunger could beat.

The cat seizing on the opportunity then would by surprise
spring up and race after them as food or game in its eyes.
There would be a mad scramble and loud flutter of wings
as the birds, escaping from that danger a predator brings,
would scatter and fly away as fast as they could to where
they'd be relatively safe from the clutches of death there.

Sometimes when looking out the back window I'd see
a cat roaming in the backyard in the shadows of a tree;
this would be enough warning for me to raise the alarm
and get out to try and keep those local birds from harm.
I would do this by chasing the cat away over the fence
so the area would be clear again for the birds I'd sense.
_____
Written in December, 2020
George Krokos Jan 31
The danger has passed
with its shadow cast
and you feel relieved
if you're not deceived.

When it was around
there wasn't a sound
and all that happened
nearly time flattened.

'Twas on such a day
that it came your way
but did not expect
let alone suspect.

You'd never have thought
that way to be caught
but who knows when fate
brings death on their plate.

It's only when time
finds the hour to chime
and it strikes you down
with no one around.

So helpless you'll be
until you are free
from the direful hour
if life is not sour.

On such occasions
of life's invasions
which are distasteful
be not ungrateful.

Give thanks to the Lord
and study His Word.
Apply it with heart
as Grace will impart.
____
Written in May,2021.
N.D.E. = near death experience
Don Bouchard Jan 28
Eastern Montana Badlands
1930s....

Coal where one found it,
Scoria hills,
Layered lignite
Waiting near the surface.

Burning lignite beds,
Smoldering centuries old,
Scarring and turning clay to scoria,
Crumbling rock,
Testimony to lightning fires
Beneath the hills.

Crude mines backed into cliffs,
Pick and shoveled coal
Free for the risky taking
Heated homes.

Coal caves,
Low and gaping,
Horizontal shafts.
Wagons first, then
Trucks backed in.

Crowbars and picks
Brought lignite ceilings
Crashing in rotten shatters
Mounding, sometimes burying
Trucks below.

My father told me
How he helped
Chris Ginther,
Deaf coal miner,
Hammer holes,
Insert charges,
Long fuses, trailing.

Old Chris packing holes,
Tamping,
Tamping,
Tamping...
Lighting fuses,
Tamping,
Tamping,
Tamping.

My father said he'd yell
"We need to go!"

Old Chris
Seemed never to hear,
Tamping,
Tamping,
Tamping,
Until finally...
Sauntering out
Before the rumbling Thump.

I can see the two,
Chris and my father,
Just a boy,
Lost in lignite clouds,
Coughing.
Funny how even 10 years gone, I can hear my father's voice.... He told us this story many times while we were growing up.
JKirin Oct 2021
Don't be scared in the face of darkness.
Let it cloak you inside its blankets.
There is nothing to see nor to hear
in this numbing cocoon - it's safe here.

Fear the light - it deceives, it blinds,
Lures you in with its warmth, but hides
gravest dangers right in the shallows.
Where there's light there're always shadows.

When a shadow crawls, reaches for you
It's too late to run. Your fate is doomed.
about hidden dangers and unexpected comforts
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