"blackbox" poems
There is nothing so trepidating
as the emptiness
The blank canvas
the ghost-white page
the empty stage
There is nothing so trepidating
as the silence
Just looking
eye to eye, heart to heart,
for connection
There is nothing so liberating
as the void
the vast white desert of the canvas
the glaring blank of a page
the unadorned blackbox theater
There is nothing so liberating
as the silence
Just the rhythm
of beating hearts
breathing
There is
nothing
There is nothing
so trepidating
There is nothing
so liberating
Dec 28, 2020
Dec 28, 2020 at 5:42 AM UTC
I'm just an average guy...
I've got normal problems and a normal life
I've also got a voice inside
silently speaking - sounds of my mind
I wonder, does it have a mind of its own?
Always flooding like a river formed by a hurricane,
if my head gets too cloudy,
there'll be a high chance of rain and scattered brainstorms
It might short-fuse my hippocampus
unable to remember how to see;
a blacked-out occipital lobe
I still don't see how the backs of our brains allow us to see
through the front our faces and out of our eyes,
where most of the water falls
despite the brain's overflowing, muddy river,
or the temporary lack of sight,
I still have a voice.
And with it, I will share all of the stories stored within this blackbox,
and only this light can find them and shine on them.
My voice, a wave riding my mind's ocean's surface
This voice, this wave, this sound,
a complicatedly, clear conscious,
called into focus...
[a sound of (my) mind]
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 6:59 PM UTC
I reached for my phone today
Wanting to tell you everything about nothing
Emptily expressing the deepest details of the ghost between us
Gift me your crescent ear one moment longer
A last call of slurred desperate expression
Forgive me
Drag me out of the bottle
Beat the intoxicants of father from my blood
Show me strength in separating the curves of blurred lines
Spread the gospel of the broken glass ripping at my thoat
Hoping to manufacture and disassemble yesterday
Drowning never felt so everyday
2,920 days of stories fractured under tongue and cheek
Placate my disgusting necessity for reassurance
Crash the god **** plane already
Zero gravity won't lift the weight boy
The blackbox may hear your desperate pleas
There will be no response
8 years of practicing crash landings
I reached for my phone today
How does nothing feel like everything
Nov 30, 2020
Nov 30, 2020 at 8:43 PM UTC