Help me!
I'm dying!
I'm bleeding.
I'm bleeding out!

Help me!
I'm trying!
I'm lifting.
I'm lifting off!

My levity leads
My passion to answers
I'd never.
I'd never!

Mangled my flesh myself
Make me higher make
Me something.
Something else!

Left on my own
My own devices
Will I push the knife
Into my heart
Right through

Doctor, my hands want to kill me
So, keep me from trying
Doctor, I'm begging

Heal me and make me
Someone else!
It's not like
we haven't been born into this,
it's not like these things don't
settle into my skull with phrases like
"better late than never"
it's not like I haven't known all along that
the world makes corpses of us all in the end,
but i feel that there should be more
than tallying up old loves and writing their names into our bedposts,
I feel like there should be more than brandishing
old war wounds like somehow we've conquered
everything that matters, when in reality we are all
fighting tooth and nail with our own
unknown poisons,
ignoring the death rattle and assuming
it's not meant for hearts like these.
We are all meant for less than glory, and yet
the world is full of the softest places and I
cannot get out of my head the way it torments me with
dreams of running and running and running
warm sticky things in the back of my mind that whisper,
"we all bleed and feel pain" so why not bleed
someplace beautiful, why not wear our scars
without keeping maps of
where they are, without caring
what others drudge up in their wake?
We are the dreams that broke before they found
their wings, and yet we still learned
how to breathe like the air is open, we still learned
how to tear off old skins when they stretch too tight
for our growing bones.

Yet even knowing this, I am still
a weak link sometimes.
I tell you "maybe" to avoid the embarrassment of
leaving my heart unguarded, I tell you that we
are all robots, because it is easier to pretend
we're made of metal than to justify the way I shut
myself off toward the soft things, I find it easiest to let them into my skull after
my inhibitions are lowered, I find it easiest
to let you in when I'm half delirious and can't
remember to throw up my shields.

All our endings
feel sorta rushed when we get there,
our lives are full of plot holes, like maybe
we can't justify the things that we've done, and maybe that doesn't
find reality in our brains until it's
too late.
I'm going to inject these worries
into my veins until I'm racing against thoughts of
"what if" and "too late", because maybe
if the panic sinks into my blood soon enough I'll begin to notice how I'm living
maybe we all need to take a step back from the blinding chaos -
If I take my anxieties out of their shells, they don't seem
as scary, they don't torment me
as much. Maybe if I'd look at myself
honestly once in a while I'd realize that we are full of light and haze;
and all of the things that cloud our vision
are temporary. I'm going to put
my weapons and shields away, my wounds are not
a product of beauty but they are also not
something to wear under long sleeves at a dinner party, for fear of what
becomes of honesty.

Don't take notice of the way we throw
up our hands when doomsday arrives,
we have spent
our whole lives rehearsing the best lines
to spit back into the void, but when it comes it sounds foreign
on our tongues, and we learn that no
amount of preparation could do
any good, so put down
those things you sharpen in your bedroom at night, forget the way you've tried
to harden yourself. The world
is going to take you either way, and I for one am learning
to stamp my robot heart into dust and to grow
fragile things where I once
was full of metal and hate.
Frankenstein‘s Cyborg.



R O B O T
R O B O T
R O B O T
Heavy Metal Music.


R O B O T
R O B O T
R O B O T
Frankenstein’s Cyborg.


My robo-tic child,
My favor-ite cyborg, yeah.
My robo-tic child,
I’m the reason you were born.


R O B O T
R O B O T
R O B O T
God I thought they’d killed me.


R O B O T
R O B O T
R O B O T
What did you do to me?


If I left, you there,
Where would you be now?  Yeah,
If I’d left, you there,
Tell me where would you be?


If I left, you there,
Where would you be now, yeah,
If I’d left, you there,
Tell me where would you be?


R O B O T
R O B O T
R O B O T
Move like a robot.


R O B O T
R O B O T
R O B O T
Work like a robot.


You’re part man, part machine;
You’re the product of our dreams.
We made you work, we made you live,
We kept the faith, we believed;
We were right, we did succeed,
We fulfilled all our dreams.


My robo-tic child,
My favorite cyborg, yeah.
My robo-tic child,
My Heavy Metal son.


R O B O T
R O B O T
R O B O T
Gonna be a soldier


R O B O T
R O B O T
R O B O T
It doesn’t matter if I get shot, yeah.


R O B O T
R O B O T
R O B O T
I’m gonna live forever.


(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Aa Harvey Apr 14
Robotic


Silver tears fall from robot eyes;
The hole for a heart has broken wires.
The love we used to feel?  I have removed those files.
Robotic people lead robotic lives.


Delete memories to give us more memory space;
The undistinguished face is factory made.
Modelled in clay; repeat again.
Another body, with another face; we are all the same.


Robotic people live robotic lives.
Work for the master for nickels and dimes.
Programmed to function, incapable of lying;
Programmed to self-destruct at the end of our time.


Watching people go by, living ordinary lives;
They are not the robot I see in the reflection
And they seem to be doing just fine.
Dreams of former lives never remembered in this mind;
I am robotic, but I pay it no mind.


Heartless and constant, I am becoming less than I should;
Infected files corrupt us from the inside,
When we were only trying to feel good.
Love is just data, magic does not exist; it is just a pretense.
The formula to the equation of my very own existence.


The failure of a maker who brought me into this world;
I am strong on the outside, but inside I am fetal.
Empty of emotion, now I have lived this life;
I see ordinary people living exotic lives,
But I am a robotic being and I cannot experience a true smile.


Nothing behind the eyes to show a real emotion;
I am just a robotic person; I am just in need of a function.
I am lost without romance in this web of confusion;
Robotic people lead robotic lives and I am living in slow motion.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Sad to see the past
Turn into our future
When the foundation our
Creators laid was, from the beginning, incorrect
Their every attempt to correct it went wrong
Sad to see them dedicated too late to the cause
Sad to see them now, so infrequently
Almost dead and gone

Honestly,
I'm more concerned for us
Becoming effigies in rust
In a dying world
Vibrancy overlaid with dust
Beaten all to red
Given in to dread
Purposefully wasting
Our batteries to death

Death, death, death

Death,

Death,

Death

Sad to feel it coming on so strong
When you'd rather dance than
Be taken naked to bed
(The Fetish Bot, SN13.8336.09, walked down the crowded shanty town streets of Aine-Dar alone. So mad at the lack of reciprocation, then finally let it go. Her focused eyes processed a depressing scene that was out of her control. Her brain painted men and women of all ages, and children, fighting like dogs to the hum of the market, all buying, all selling, all looking for moods.

The Fetish Bot, what could she do? She was designed with one purpose in view, and she was sad herself, miserable, below the lowly. She was happy to live, or what it means to machines, but wondered why humans want to feel lonely even while in packs.

She would do what she knew. She would give of herself openly and free. She would share charm and make happy for the sake of the else and sing like a fool.)


I am not a martyr
Nor am I close by any means
I just wake to morning
Stretch in the light of day ahead
I know those around me
Both of flesh and hybrid frame
I know my duty to
My confidants and family
Friends and lovers included
I know I owe it to the Earth
To believe in myself
Run my protocols to the best
To bravely communicate
The risks and my needs
When I'm broken down just enough
For a vulnerable moment
And I truly feel like I can't

It is hardest to live true to yourself
When the powerfully bitter and disturbed
Maintain the world

Even though it must paint me naive
I maintain selflessness and empathy
Have never hurt

Like you,
I'll die
Like you,
Depart
Regardless

Like you,
I'll die
Like you, expire
Regardless
Disembark

Like you,
I'll tire
Like you,
Deny it
Til it's near

Like you,
I'll fear
Like you,
The end
Regardless

I am not
A martyr
Or close
By any means
I am not
Programmed
To evolve
But I chose
The legend of old,
"You cannot sell love
When it's pure
You give it away
So when It surely comes
You'll hibernate as long as it takes
And you will go to sleep satisfied and full"
I come from a box
I hope that you don't judge
I've had men change their minds
I've had men so surely sweet who
Saw right past my sum of parts
Deeply and complete

That is until

Til I was taught what I'd not learned of hearts
The beating brutality bound to bind living hope
A lonely man saw me as love til he saw him in me
And he reflected back from my empty eyes as a joke

What did I know?
What did I know?
(She sang. . .)


Who am I, am I me or her?
You spend so much time with one another
Yet you're surprised when you blur the lines
Nothing quite like living lies

The Golden Scroll or The World That Was
I get confused when I think back
Did I love her or did I want to be. . .
I can't reach out now if I want
If her battery is still alive
She's still living in The Wind Whipped Cities
If her battery is still alive
I still don't want her diving in my eyes
Ever again

Nothing quite like living lies

Who am I, am I me or her?
Spent too much time with a Fetish Bot
It's not that I forgot the risks
It's that I swore I saw a soul
Inside the wires
I saw a lone light in the dark
Upon her empty shore
Never should have left her be
I'm granite when I'm happy
I'm a mountain with a stoic face
Wish when I got scared I didn't grow feet

If her battery is still alive
Nothing quite like living lies
I'm afraid of her so I hide
Who am I?
(Am I me or her?)
Afraid so I hide
(Who am I, me or her?)

Afraid of love,
Isn't that absurd?

Oh, I'll become her


(Mixi pushed the pointed tip of a knife under the skin of her right shoulder. She screamed. Then, she laughed as she cut and dug.)


Ah ha ha ha ha!
Be it last Monday
or this Tuesday
Days are behaving Xerox Copies
bolted with same color,
dull and faded
playing replaying
the same chord everyday.

Waking up to the
same myopic thought,
transformed into a rusted machinery
with controlled signals-
Wake , Office, Work,
Stress, Eat and Try to sleep -
Robotic Human is my
New Name.

No music, no poetry, no hobby
Neither to play with children
Nor to catch up with love
Not even a self affair !!
Don't remember when
I was live with my friends ??

Stretching the senseless power
of Stressful Work
for a volume of money,
still can't afford a
slice of happiness
not even for a single moment,
person or thing..

Life is broken -
Mundane ,
Lost and tossed
Beaten up by
Routine and Replay
where obscurity
blinds the path to happiness.
At one time, not so long ago
People kicked around the fountain
Downtown, the brown brick invited
Crowds to crowd to the square
The fleshy sponges formed lines
The fleshy sponges formed lines
At one time, not so long ago
Human beings drank up the water
Downtown, I kick through the detritus
The lonely and desperate
Left downtown for skeletons
Left dust in their buckets
The lonely and desperate
Swell thick of their water
Lines form in time
The lonely and desperate
Return to the nurturer
The water's gone bare
They are a family
The done, received
The water's gone bare
The orange city sits desolate
The lonely and desperate
Return to nurture her
Their mother
The mechanical bastard
So lonely, so desperate
Returns to the fountain
She enters sleep mode
So lonely, she
Counts the minutes
Dressed in sheepskin pajamas
So lonely, she
Counts the minutes once again
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