#circuits
The Watch
by Michael R. Burch
Moonlight spills
down vacant sills,
illuminates an empty bed.
Dreams lie in crates.
One hand creates
wan silver circles, left unread
by its companion—unmoved now
by anything that lies ahead.
I watch the minutes
test the limits
of ornamental movement here,
where once another
hand would hover.
Each circuit—incomplete. So dear,
so precious, so precise, the touch
of hands that wait, yet ask so much.
Published by The Lyric, Carnelian, Net Poetry and Art Competition, Poetry on Demand, Famous Poets and Poems, ImageNation (UK). Keywords/Tags: watch, hands, watching, time, movement, circles, cycles, circuits, minutes, limits, wait, waiting, death, incomplete, reunion, companion, ahead, night, bed, moonlight, crates
Mar 23, 2020
Mar 23, 2020 at 11:09 PM UTC
First snow, we watched,
Blueprints breaking apart.
A paradox talking loudly,
Over no one in particular.
Our house became haunted
by so many curses,
and none of them watched
the inches stack onto
piles of dead earth.
They were too busy deciding
which one could laugh
the longest without breathing.
One month from today was the delivery.
Everyone whispered into their hands.
Meanwhile, the blizzard exploded
inside the walls and left us
with all these bite marks,
exposing our circuits to the cold air.
Everyone picks themselves up and waits until tomorrow.
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 4:36 AM UTC
She laughed like a Furbie
With broken voice box
Somehow digital and shrill
(Low bitrate ***** )
All discreet ones and zeros(um) game
I know how to fix her with
Aqueous solution seed
Fry her circuits like LSD
Bring down Skynet
With my ****
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 12:45 AM UTC