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Look and see
it's right there, splashed upon the screen.
Pixel will dance,
pixel will craft, for those
within those means.
A whole world all
apart from worlds
where I walk less than wander.
Everyone looks dazzling,
and so together, too.
It was sad once, now the sad's passed,
and I'm mostly confused.
Faces on the screen share their
pointed lives like it means a thing.
Meaning lives in the thought itself. . .
Dazzling. And so together, too.
If this game makes so much sense,
what is wrong with me?
What is wrong with me?
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
10%-20% smile, if someone urges
30% smile, uncertainty exists
40% smile, escape the secrets
50% smile, a beautiful feel
60% smile, a flow of fuel
70% smile, a time to catch
80% smile, a beautiful truth
90% smile, about to blast
100% smile, tears in the eyes.
Mercury Chap Dec 2015
Moving here and moving there
Moving a million miles
With eyes red, eyes dead
Tapping a million times.

It's no teleport, no  airplane,
No magical ride
Instead of walking out the doors
In the pixels we confide.

Aimless tip-tap like water drops
Ticking as sound of time
Punching letters, beating keys,
Trying to make a rime.

Lovely surfs, lovely speed,
Not so lovely is sleep,
When the ghost of eyes
Stuck in the mist of lies
Screen to screen takes a leap.

Pixels here, pixels there,
Pixels all around,
Life here, life there,
Real life all gone.
Real life all gone.
Dreamfall121 Apr 2015
Leaving a love message
After the machine's beep
Delivery failed
I am in Pixel Maze's
Escape garden
With green grass
On Genesis walls
Flashlights are switching
On and off
Walking by ethnic purple demons
Their gold hands
Over their several heads
Static at the summit
They freeze
In prolonged pauses
They don't even exist
But our eyes still torches
Music is thundering down now
From the heavens
With electro nodes
Am I that out of it?
And I never really left
That haunted warehouse
Watching evil trees
Awake now
By the nightfall
They are dancing
By father's campfire
Slicking my hair
I am jumping
On polish mushrooms
We don't even like him
I hear him Tolling
Church's bells
Resurrecting guilt
On immature Sunday
But I don't want to listen
He is reading again
Those antique diaries
Hours fly by
Won't listen
Uneasy by his discomfort
I find that magic carpet
And i elude
Cascading pixels,
trickling over the arcade,
Eight bit drops-
Tiny blocks,
clumping together rise-
Digital monoliths.
Soaring up:
***** structures emerge;
Falling down:
begins to breakdown;
as the lines dissolve underneath
*multiplying scores manifold!
Found an old tetris cartridge in the attic. When I began playing, the nostalgia overwhelmed my thoughts and hence this poem..

— The End —