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The Devil himself

…..he read that online
mine poetry about poverty
that poverty was about
the grammar mistakes in many poems

the stupidity started chasing me
declared instantly me-moi as his enemy
his words, so absurd
a lunatic so terrific

I thought he could read poetry
but….I was mistaken....

my beloved one never knew
the alienating appearance of this blind male

I wrote about true poetry and its poverty
he associated with politics and its tactics

I thought he could read poetry
but….I was mistaken....

thought he ran the marathon
but....I was mistaken,

he was chasing me constantly,

God said to me: " Have never fear, Sylvia
I am with you all the time"

all my fears disappeared instantly

from far I heard the thunder
and I saw the brightest lightning
a man fell down shouting for help

on my way, I passed his burnt body
terrible smell of burnt blood
Hey! That was the one who was constantly chasing me
The devil himself with his poker face

Thank you, dear Lord,
you have helped me in Your Time....

that resonates with mine,
oh Lord, You are sublimest!


© Sylvia Frances Chan
Tuesday AD. The 20th February 2018-
@ 14.30 hrs P.M. West-European Time.

Sheer poetry 2018.  Hurray! © Sylvia Frances Chan
Copyright Protected. A parody poem.
Ashley Chapman Oct 2017
Feel empty in your post apocalyptic City of Angels,
Where not even your pets are real!
An electric android, a sheep or a frog,
The whir-flutter of micro-electrical wings of a butterfly.

Good, and so you ought.

Now grab the handles of your empathy box,
And in a shared virtual hallucination –
Feel: empathy, depression, pain, delusion and despair,
The outré myriad gifts of consciousness.

Billions of discombobulated and disconnected wrecks:
Adam's sons; Eve's daughters,
And among them simulations too,
Fakes! androids!
A phony circuit of implanted semi-conscious memories,
A hive of neural malaise!
Welcome to our world;
know how dead inside I am.

You, yes, you:

Need a pet to make you more complete?
Maybe you can afford
A Fake Fakir Flake like me who looks like Jude Law,
Sounds like Richard Burton,
And silently romances you like Rudolph Valentino.
Come and stick what’s left of your mind,
In here,
In hair,
Hear her:
har, har, har…

A box of lies...

A voice, Mercer's,
With texture from an age you neither lived in nor dared in:
Al Jerry's, a TV actor,
Droning on in pre-selected tones.

The real thing, the men, the women, the children - their animals -
Made in the wild, wild desert,
In the green pulsing savannah,
On the open crusted sea;
Now too, washed, choked, and drained,
Too many spliced and diced mutations,
Iterating your image:
The thing that was my heart,
My Child, now its imitation.
Performed for Celine's Salon at Gerry's Club, Soho, London and at Time Event Space, Glasgow, April 29, 2022.

This comes from my fascination with Philip K. **** and Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep. In this, his future dystopian vision, androids are retired, a euphemism for terminated, when they have passed their legal age limit after four years. Humans, us, have by now ruined our environment and become enthralled to a false religion, Mercerism , a fabricated make belief, spun by an actor, Al Jerry. The empathy boxes plunge the followers of Mercerism into a shared virtual hallucination. I was also enthralled by Jude Law in AI by Steven Spielberg who gave what I thought was a mesmerising portrait of a *** robot, the ultimate Lothario and so tragically programmed to flaw.

In 2017 Mercerism was the theme of The Tunnel, an art collective to which I was a participator, through poetry.

Then in 2022,I was invited to perform it in Glasgow as part of Celtic tour of Britain for Celine's Salon.

It will soon be published by Wordville Press.

Blade Runner, the film, now Blade Runner 49, is based on this dark interpretation of where we could all be headed.
Graff1980 Jan 2017
Darkest black treading dirt
Left impression for their worth
White stripes across the side
Streak into the evening sky
Like a flash when I run
Flickering becomes a dying sun
Potential of what will never come
So I run, I have to run

Old laces dusted *****
Push them through the holes
In a hurry
Rushing now because I’m worried
The sound of sneakers pounding dirt
The sound of how much it really hurts
So I run, I have to run

The soles so loose
Sound funky when they flap
Still I love those messed up shoes
Which is why I’ll never take them back
When life is hard when it starts to sting
I turn around and start jogging
I am not a prisoner, I was born to be free
Even if all I have are these old shoes
To chase away those heavy blues
I will run until I am done
I had to run, I always run
Carolyn Cagnon Dec 2016
I am a runner.
I run from the truth,
I run from the lies.
I run from possibilities,
I run towards my demise.
I run from the chances,
I run from any and all.
I run from my pain,
I run from happiness...
I just hope that I can keep
From running from you.
I am a runner...
In the past that's all I knew,
Now I have a chance at staying too.

I've always been a runner it's true;
But maybe I can be a fighter too.
I wonder if she knows
Just how infatuated I am
Day after day
How light my shoulders feel
This was never me
I am better this time

I ran  
A devoted runner
In the sense I didn't want to stay
Or settle for something less
I wonder if you know it's different now
I found my home with you

I am not a liar when I say the sky is  brighter and the air feels cleaner
I wonder if you know
If you truly know
Your skin is the only texture I desire.
SummertimeLace May 2016
Like a careful runner
enjoys the race
You make me breathless
at the sight of your face

And as the runner
collapses in the end
I realize we
Will always be
Just friends
Luna Casablanca Feb 2016
I fell into the trap of
screaming my struggles at the
top of the roof so someone would
see me as I stepped forward to jump off.
I climbed down the ladder after hearing no one,
burned it in the fire, put on my sneakers,
and went for a run.

A little jog turned into
a mile,
then two,
then twenty five,
last one a marathon.

So many who have my past hold it
because they put me down or were
overwhelmed by my triggering words.
This is why I put down the car keys
because if I am seen crying in a car
after crashing it driving emotionally upset,
they know they did something right.

Stretching after a marathon was the destruction
of every bad memory of a bully who made their
remark into a marathon.
I was the runner
this time.
They know,
they did something
wrong and I am fierce.
I have power,
and I am
golden and
I did the
right
thing.
If you are ever upset, angry, or mad at somebody,
don't give them power by hurting yourself.
I chose running,
what will you do to help?
Emma Sep 2015
I have spent my life running
away from everyone in it
It has almost been two decades
but it feels like centuries have gone by
since the last time I took a break
from racing the wind
My legs have grown tired
My hands cannot seem to stay still
I try to sound strong
but my voice still cracks
and my breathing comes out in shakes
I have learned
that when you grow used to something
living without it feels like
trying to breathe with no air
So I keep running
From sunrise to sunset
Closing doors
and burning bridges
leaving no trace behind
of where I'm headed
mostly because I'm not sure
where that is
I run, though my legs tremble
Because my heart has known
the pain of change
Eventually I'll run myself
into a grave
Change hurts but so does growth.
Null Dec 2014
But how do you win when you've already lost?
And how do you forgive when you already know the cost?
What's it feel like?
I can't tell anymore, I'm so long lost.
Does it ever end?
Do we stop, dry our eyes, just pretend?
And if there is indeed a way out which one do you recommend?
What's it feel like?
Is there hope for the lost souls?
Is there a way to be good again?
(Inspired by words from the Kite Runner)
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