How close we are now,
your face on my screen,
My arm seeking your back,
A kiss, pout, thousand gestures,
Typing texts bestowing wide smiles
and staring screen in hope
to never end this moment,
Miles apart yet so close that
the warm breath reach me
Soon you exhale, or at least sound
of it,
How gorgeous these inventions are
making lovers life easy,
sighs cut to half, tears reduced to zero.

I thank that human God
who invented the phone,
And glory to all those
shadowed by the mythical ones.

Shining bright,
Leaving me
Fooled.
It's a vortex
And it feeds off of my light,
kind to be
Cruel.

It taints and slithers into
Every life's necessities.
Now it wears a crown saying:
"You cannot go on,
You cannot survive
without me!"

It has become
The Judge,
Jury
And executioner
Without
Authority.

It has become
Our only means of
Expressing beauty and
Creativity
In the most perverted of ways
As it tries to
Simulate an alternate reality
Making me
A fool
Who’s Kind to be
Cruel.

No Phone, No phone, No phone's today
you have to put your phone away
No looking down at screens all-day
You have to put your phone away
Look up, look out, engage, be free
Without your phone now you can see

See me...

See here and now
Be here and now...with me

Real-life not fake

No phone today
Give it a break

I've got numbers that never show.
I'll never see another text
From those asleep in an oak box.
I screenshot them; kept like dead leaves

I hope it never ends
I hope it never .

Nobody cares anymore.

Money makes the world go round
Not the orbit of the sun.
The universe doesn’t matter anymore.

They say that we should keep our eyes wide open
But their eyes are glued down
At the screens that feed them information

Whether it is true or false
We don’t know anymore
We just go with it since we know no better.

As you get older
You accept the world
Instead of questioning it like you should.

So many things you could do
But you are cut off from it
Your eyes are blocked off behind the mask.

I wonder how many miles
Our thumbs must have scrolled
On our screens.

“Look at the moon,” they say
“Of course,” they reply but once they sit outside
They are back to scrolling through their phones.

“Slow down,” I want to say
“Everything will be okay.”
But everyone keeps rushing all the same.

They ignore the skies
And instead find their gold
In cheap, plastic, machine-made stars.

laying in a bed of wild flowers in a clearing in a wood
calms me
a gentle breeze brings the scent of the flowers
cleansing me
the silent sound of the wood
awakens me
and a flap of a bird, the cry of an animal
heightens me
sunlight breaks through the leaves  to
enlighten me
and peace washes
over me
THEN the music from my phone
disturbs me

before these buttons strolled

by fingers
or legs
that look like one...

people switch their bones
and lick each others' flesh

they ask questions
as to why nails aren't pink
when it isn't

they laugh
when ****
isn't as loud
as the ones from horses

before these tabs came
it was the sky
that enjoy stares
as if eyes know
battles between busy stars

before these batteries came
people sit too close
to warmth from fire
while their teeth

enjoy the silence
that munch meals
just before bed time
alone
very alone.