Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
David E Francis Feb 2020
before these buttons strolled

by fingers
or legs
that look like one...

people switch their bones
and lick each others' flesh

they ask questions
as to why nails aren't pink
when it isn't

they laugh
when ****
isn't as loud
as the ones from horses

before these tabs came
it was the sky
that enjoy stares
as if eyes know
battles between busy stars

before these batteries came
people sit too close
to warmth from fire
while their teeth

enjoy the silence
that munch meals
just before bed time
alone
very alone.
I am thinking this poem of mine is an investigation into whether we have lost the things that made us whole. What should we blame it on? Us or the idea of us? I simply used the phone to check this thought of mine out.
David E Francis Feb 2020
they said
we must never be born with a tooth
if we are to survive
weaning period

they didn't allow us

to stand on our toes
to feel earth's warmth
for long they feared
about our next    weak step

our hands were covered

with thick skin and hands
protecting our blood and brains
they didn't allow us
to be poisoned
by the unknown;

so with many corrective eyes
watching our weak bones
earth and us
became bold

for things we didn't do because of love;

there's a page now
unfinished
for on this paper

filled with our greatness
we chew with
complete teeth
yawning into eternity.
David E Francis Feb 2020
one: space

for how do you put a god in a box
where he creates nothing
sees nothing
and has no voice?

two: women

for how can you put stone into water
and not expect its dirt
to shame its strength?
Space and women is simply a summary of things that can make me hate myself. One, for being dared to do nothing while I have lots to do. Two, for seeing how another human can reveal my blemishes.
David E Francis Feb 2020
there are
on earth
as in places unknown

two types of people:
one stands before the camera

and the other
stands behind;

but it is on record
that they both
must
surely
die.
Perhaps this poem is about understanding that there is no need to **** ourselves over and about divisions. Or maybe the poem itself is about divisions.

— The End —