Silent thoughts


Candles burning brightly bring visions to my eyes.
Shadows dancing in the corners give this room a supernatural vibe.
As I sit here under the covers, all fears are held below;
I gaze into the broken mirror, in a room with no visible windows.
Curtains hide the outside from me; pictures hang on every wall.
Unopened boxes still sleep their long slumber;
They have sat there since the fall.


Unread books sit on the bookshelf;
The dust has gathered on all their pages.
Cobwebs hang like Christmas decorations,
They show the footsteps the spiders took;
They have been there for ages.


As the cold air slows my heartbeat, I could have been here for a year.
So forgotten, so complicated; there is no-one left to cheer.
I have tried to change the channel,
But everything just sounds the same.
I have tried to feed my hunger,
But my body refuses and so it remains.
A thirst calls out for a glass of water; legs are aching for some help.
If I hired myself a waitress, maybe I could help myself.


Candles flicker in their actions; a silhouette fills all above.
There is a ghostly face on my ceiling; swiftly it changes and all is mud.
As the wick burns down to nothing, I prepare to make a stand.
I am reaching out for lightning; fire in my hands.
As I strike another cigarette with the last match inside the pack,
I carry the flame across every candle; I will have to soon sleep or act.
I whisper words into the emptiness, as several thoughts go passing by.
I take hold of my loneliness and put it out of sight, out of mind.


A man is speaking on the TV and I do not like the news he has to tell,
So I press the off switch at the television,
So I am no longer under its spell…
The sound of silence is beginning to annoy me,
So I flick the switch on the radio.
Another old man tells me something new again;
I need music not this breaking news show.


I try and fail to read a fictional story;
The fading light no help at all.
Remembering former days of glory;
Newspaper clippings on the wall.
All the frames have cracks along them,
Where they have fallen to the floor before.
The memories that live outside my head,
Are entrapped in photo’s that are boxed up against the wall.


I need money to change my life,
But changing times are always hard.
A moth is living where there should always have been plenty of cash.
I take out all the plastic cards…
And I throw them in the trash.


Counting pennies like an accountant;
I don’t just wear this hat for fun.
Another winter of discontent;
Crying out to feel the sun.


Breathing clouds because of the cold air;
Toes are asking Santa for slipper shoes.
I lost my will to try a long time ago;
My heart is not mending, it is way too bruised.


Body aching from a lifetime;
I never give it a second thought.
The clock annoys me more and more,
With every tick-tock and with every chime…
I’m too old to be closing doors.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

I see


I see pictures on a blank canvas.
I see images inside your image.
I see the tranquility within the madness.
I see a beautiful world only I can envisage.


I see words where none are written.
I see winter gardens on a mid-summers afternoon.
I see Macintosh before it was ever bitten.
I see colours of sunlight when all illumination is from a moon.


I see history designing your future.
I see the past repeating here and now.
I see technology; forever advancing roots of a router.
I see an empty space, with floating ice mountains in the background.


I see Fuji rising over Emoji.
I see all in jigsaw pieces.
I see connections where no attachment should be.
I see the perpetual wave;
Beauty never ceases.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

A new dawn.


When we all have virtual reality;
The next step in our technological evolution,
Will be to attain a sort of telepathy,
Where our mind is connected directly into the web
And then who knows what comes next?


Our brains will seek information along the information highway
And our thoughts will be uploaded directly into the internet.
We will create our own type of diary, the thoughts of us all;
Then the final connections will be made
And completely change our planet.


A new way of thinking and seeing things differently;
The olden days will fade away to become our history.
The robots will be born and humanity will grow lazy;
Spending more time in this new reality.
Our second lives will become our actuality.


We are just about to take one step forward for mankind
And our movements will be controlled, by the thoughts within our mind.
Our subconscious will be more prevalent than it ever has before
And upon us will be ****** a new dawn.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

When I was sixteen
I was told I was a ghost in the machine.
This made perfect sense for I sought seclusion
From fright in my mind; I was hunting a delusion.
What was wrong and what was right
Could never be far or near or protected with might.

When I was seventeen
I was told I was a ghost in the machine.
This made perfect sense for I hated my mind.
Suffocating in a body howling with mistakes scared and lined.
Escape was hollow and deprivation
When a cold numb murdered little sensation.

When I was eighteen
I was told I was a ghost in the machine.
Laughter and warmth within and around,
Let us take a photo to capture what was lost and found.
Often I will reminisce about the night it all made sense
But I cannot remember it all, let loathing commence.

When I was nineteen,
I was told I was a ghost in the machine.
Now, I did not understand
For I could feel and touch and fall and land
Without sorrow or destruction at what I could not achieve.
Everything that happened, I knew now it was time to leave.

I am twenty six now,
And I remember when I was told I was a ghost in the machine.
Digital memory captured it all
And a scroll reveals the forgotten, the joy and the fall.
I didn’t realise at the time we place our spirits into devices so lean.

So let me tell you;
Guess what?
We are now all just a great ghost
in a pocket machine.

Slipping


Broken TV, phone line cut off;
Electric meter empty, friends have been lost.
Bottles all drunken, food beginning to rot;
Clothes torn and fading, all hope is gone.


Money all spent to pay the rent and the debts;
Eye sight fading, nothing left.
Body decaying, love life non-existent;
Pity and mercy are not forthcoming,
Everything is lost in an instant.


Dirt on the skirting boards and on the walls,
Ambition without power.
Green water in the vase underneath the dead flowers;
One minute past happy hour, the milk tastes sour.


Laughter not possible, arms too weak;
Broken are the sandals that slip beneath my feet.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.