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Kewayne Wadley Nov 2017
GE
And for a split second I felt free.
Perhaps freer than I have ever been.
Relying on the shoulders of a stranger.
It couldn't have come at a better time.
The acquaintance of seeing yourself in someone else.
Perhaps it's better that I choose to not know you or this moment
we know as perfect
would come to a screeching halt.
Seeing you, seeing me for anyone you choose In the compassion of thought.
There we stood within arms reach, yet we embraced the full distance of privacy.
I mean after all would we truly come to understand each other if we tried.
Who's to say that full disclosure would lead to total certainty or uncertainty.
The question still provokes.
As uncertain as it may be, electricity is still dangerous.
Still it paves the way as a connection is sparked.
In the likely hood of a grounded current.
We'd be sure to cross again.
As sure as plastic melts, as sure as glass is soon to shatter.
Left ungrounded.
We all have a beginning and end.
In ultimate truth I agreed, in some form we continue to introduce ourselves to our former selfs.
To an extent, I admire addicts.
They aren't afraid to be who they really are.
And like that.
Two conductors were exposed to the repeated trace of static shock.
Exhibited behind glass in the most beautiful of explosion
Habiba Oct 2017
Too long,
Too long I point my vision
In awe towards the inexistent flaw
Embedded within the lustrous cracks of your smile
Splitting through the melancholy-infused,
My timeless sunless sky
I tremble,
More than just a sugar rush,
A heaven-sent electric current;
Starts the heart-shaped engine,
Rips through its tendons,
Accelerates, opposing the infirm currents ,
Of the impaired circuit,
Sensitizes it to a form of "life".
The thunder then pounds within the hollow,
Slowly devastates the shallow.
Bruises branch down my neck,
The bolts sink down to my deck,
Engraving everlasting fractal marks ,
Of fractions of whiles,
When I was stone-blind ,
Consumed by the euphoric rush,
Of your broken white lights,
Shocked into submission,
Getting used,
Falling for abuse.
Lightning was your name,
The thunder was your doomed game.
Maybe one end only surges in mortal power,
But the other has fallen, devoured.
Blind, but now I see coherently,
Rewired differently.
My fingertips still trace down the marks,
Till they have memorized their very whereabouts,
But now I embark,
On the journey of focus on my ever-present,
And your ever-absence.
Tainted with specks of your broken light,
My sky then gives birth to ravishing stars,
That decorate the gloomiest of inky skies.
Sometimes the stars fall,
To witness me wishing him away,
Closely hear me say,
The last of my goodbyes;
So long for now,
So long for then.
I will never be the same, and for that, I thank you, my greatest mistake, and my greatest life lesson.
Clive Blake Sep 2017
Monolithic steely strides;
Cables strain, whilst nature hides,
Arms outstretched from metal sides,
A buzzard glares as by he glides.

A pylon dwarfs a nearby tree,
But makes no home for bird nor bee,
Landscape ruined, just so that we
In idle warmth ... can watch TV!
They take their shots on film.
They dance  to the vinyl plates.
They write with old pens.
They keep it real through decades.

You know, someday, the lights go out for good.
They will know what to do.
But we depend on energy too much.
What's then we are to do.

Besides, they touch the music, smell the lights.
But we have only ones and zeros.
They keep real, we make it fake, so
I wonder who're the real weirdos.
DaSH the Hopeful Aug 2017
Dragging my knuckles* on the sidewalk
      I find myself hoping for a *spark

     that would confirm my mechanical makeup
        Titanium and servos buried mere inches beneath faux flesh
        Scraping concrete

         *Friction, it would seem,
           is the only force powerful enough to reveal me to myself
Madison Jul 2017
Let me breathe you in
As though electricity were oxygen
On the tips of our tongues

How easily butterflies turn to fire
Amid stolen kisses
And whispering fingertips

Singe me with your lips
******* whimpers
Burn me slowly

Hearts and wings aflutter
To die by your touch
Is to die alive...

M.A.P.
This was the first poem I ever wrote!
Angie S Jun 2017
frayed copper wires never to be bound
electricity is lost, connections unwound, and
where one end surges in power
the other cowers, weak in comparison
i watched their awful lives and wished
someone's expert hands could finish their plight
i attempted to fix it in the past but
other copper wires are so tightly woven!
and meanwhile, this little lightbulb
flickers meaninglessly.
why no one has smashed the wires
under their feet and then in a raging fire from fatigue i
dont know.
im so tired of the dark. im so ******* tired of it but im afraid of the light.

rant poem.
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