"cached" poems
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U text me dis
I text U dat
She dissed my dis
I sent last Sat.
U LOL’ed
on down the list
I sexted sixth—
my 7th missed.
U banned my width
I booked your face
U twittered on—
She saved my space.
U scrolled me down
He tweeted smiles
We USB’ed,
recharging miles . . .
U giga-bit
encrypted files;
I saved as mine
and cached denials.
In digital
we re-erased,
then Skyped our souls
and interfaced.
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 5:36 PM UTC
A year has passed since I crashed my motorcycle.
The road rash had since been cast away.
The fast paced life was smashed together.
A singular bash that cached my memory.
Lights flash and whiplash has new meaning.
This thrash blinked my eyelash three days later.
Dreary forecast laid flabbergasted.
Oct 26, 2016
Oct 26, 2016 at 3:00 PM UTC
Pixelated bitmap e-mares
Digitized be mementos cached
Her 8 bit vocal vintage freeware
Transfers recurrent electric draughts
The bitrate of virtual seduction
Intrusively hacks my bones
Taste be my lips of data eruption
Elicited from her tone
Physique a stimulating software
Upon my Ethernet she crafts sparks
A gem society deemed quite rare
Though she possessed a vibrant bark
Her bandwith I yearned to fiddle
'Twas encrypted with die-hard lust
She moans in esoteric riddles
Keen I decode them whilst I ******
Pizazz eclipsing our veins
A billion megabytes colliding
Satiated we crash free of rein
Unforeseen servers uniting
© 2012 (All rights reserved)
This poem is featured in the poetry collection “Technicolor” as written by Glenn McCrary
The collection is currently available in paperback and hardcover editions for purchase on Lulu.com
.
Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 4:09 PM UTC
A year and a half has passed since I crashed my motorcycle.
The broken bones and road rash had since been cast away.
The gassed up tank and fast paced life were smashed together.
A singular bash that cached my memory.
Lights flashed and all of the sudden whiplash has new meaning.
This thrash of two autos blinked my eyelash three days later.
Paralytic forecast.
I lay flabbergast.
Nov 12, 2016
Nov 12, 2016 at 3:59 PM UTC
Gossamer draperies swell
with heat, eastern winds
push daylight
over tangled bodies.
Fingers travel up
and down your naked torso,
my hand caught suddenly
in yours as you stir,
a sleepy god awakened
by the warmth of morning.
Your body, a sundial,
keeps perfect time with mine;
two lovers cached in silken strands,
our sacred place now fully lit
with the hunger of summer.
The solstice lingers past its prime,
drifting over equator
and into southern skies
as autumn patiently waits
outside the bedroom door.
Jan 5, 2021
Jan 5, 2021 at 8:49 PM UTC
I was singing to an Italian love song,
wondrous lyrics,
a rythm that held me within a dream.
I wrote a requiem and played it to the world
and so here I am dancing once more
to the beat of my own drum.
Lyrics cached to savour alone
the beat of this heart goes on
and on
and on
and on....
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 2:22 AM UTC
You have copied and pasted yourself into my memory without my
conscious authorization. My data storage could surpass that of a
super computers, a near infinite amount of space for whatever I
want saved, except you have rewritten my libraries upon libraries
of me with your animation; as if I now cannot run without you
constantly there. When I try to open the program of my heart it’s
blocked by the virus you lured me with. I used to trouble shoot in
circles wasting gigaseconds at a time trying to find ways of deleting
you out of my hardware. I’m constantly stuck in a loop of trial and
error trying to decode and compute the internal damage you’ve
done in efforts to restore my old programming. I tried to find
solutions with other users but you act as my administrator,
dictating what I have access to. The folder named, “My History”
has been renamed to “Our History” with every face you’ve made,
every word you’ve said, and every instance we’ve plugged into each
other being cached for immediate viewing making it all
too easy to only think of you; I cannot upload a single thought
without you in it. I have grown sick, going from constant states
of freezing to overheating since the day you crashed me. This is
not something I can just sleep off. This is not something I can
just shutdown everything for.
I cannot edit you.
I cannot erase you.
I cannot wipe myself clean of you.
I have been overrun by you.
And the truth is, I have been
searching for exactly this
since the day I was built.
Dec 5, 2012
Dec 5, 2012 at 5:25 AM UTC
Condoms, oil burners, shattered glass
The homeless homies homemade shizz
Now Chris can't sit still in class
Pounding the pavement with kisses to heaven
All hustlers sell
Dippin Dots
Wrapped in latex
Liquid to vapor overkills
The loss of will
From after parties after hours
Romancing the ******
On the corners
Quag **** hits schism
Asphalt littered with
Shattered flowers
Them chicks on the streets
Ladies of the night
Its matter of fact
Mr. Hightower / boulevard's class
For the hard ***
**** poor "G" learning how
To trample through his ghetto
As she masters each one
******* hand / jive and mashed
Chris and his gang
Up for sale (hot-damn **** jello *****
For white hyperions and
Black mellow
Cached
Out / yellow bellied / thin
Such barefooted souls
Marrow
Easiest to break
When already hollow...
(Guilt and shame is a gun
To the temple
And heart
Chambers
Such souls all hollow)
Those Outs Within...
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 7:15 AM UTC
Maybe one day
I'll get a real life
And a real job
And a house
That's real nice
And a beautiful
Real wife
And I'll care about politics
And popular affairs
And I'll drive an American car
With less than 50k.
I guess I want that, someday.
But for now all I want
Is to lay on this blanket
On these blades of grass
Under this maple tree
With you, in central park,
And count the red cars that go by
While you count the blue
And hear the dogs barking
And the kids screaming
****** ****** sounding fun
And feel your head on my shoulder
Your arm across my chest
Your leg over mine
Your hair tickling
My neck, my nose, my cheek
Your Lola perfume filling my head.
For now I'm fine with this.
I'll worry about
Houses and cars
And wives and presidential
Hopefuls
When my checks are cached
And my heart has grown
Cold with age
And NYC is a memory.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 11:12 PM UTC
When your grey is marooned
Life seems like a goon
Pliability is cached somewhere
Boldness becomes a tough affair
Brooding over roughs
Becomes the way of life
Seething over pain
Is all you think is fine
Strong mind becomes
So fragile and meek
Constant approval always
Is then what you seek
Yes, yes, you are
B
R
O
K
E
N from within
But do you realize
Only a broke knows
Value of everything
So unleash the pain
In one go and just holler
Remember, every holler
Makes you stronger
Once your anguish
Is washed out in tears
Your vision to foresee
Future becomes clear
Say cheers to life!
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 2:58 AM UTC
Great Grandfather's clock strikes midnight
through the drawn curtains
a glint of moonlight peeps
the lacquered surface glows with
the light of another day's shadows,
twilights that faded over distant vistas,
blipping echoes from searching sonar
that beam only faint pulses
off the embezzled panels,
invisible forms in the dust specks
whose true essence remains trapped
in the hollowed pores yielding only
the residual, a genetic bond
forever cached in the organic fibers,
hovering in a dark corner of the room
over relics that reverberate each chime
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 8:30 PM UTC
Her sweetness-laden face,
beckoned with a grace,
A wishful ray of hopes,
inconspicuously morose.
He read it with an ease,
The Pinings cached in crease,
Swaying like a tremor,
Agog for a breather.
Whilst unfurling the crease,
He feared his irrational leash,
Careened before her eyes,
And pulled his hands back inside.
He thought he had better,
Leave intact the wrapper,
For a sudden quietude hurts more,
Than a phlegmatic uproar.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 10:56 AM UTC
Fist upon the sun gods.
Seek among the goddess earth.
Chant and clang before icons:
oh please, good fortunes,
new birth and wealth.
Sacrifice a goat - the blood will dry
at the foot of the temple.
The blood will dry
and still no rain.
Scream into the night
for a pittance of hope demanded
and stir a neighbor's peace
a dog's twitch into soup dreams
of portent and panic. Yes,
that, once done, bestows
upon us the riches, the riches
the ancients cached:
Dishes wash smoother when soaked.
A grain in a bowl is not empty.
Basil brings life to bland fare.
The herbs of spring strengthen
once dried and stored for winter,
and the yeast of us rise unto heaven.
Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019 at 7:23 PM UTC
tattered flags, wedding dress trains
white fringe, cached in dirt road
like baggy jeans, converse worn like religion.
Stockholm syndrome, always ran away
never left home, delicately telling
time wearing, down eight years
down in the basement, duct-tape cuffed
to a chair, bandage torn off slow
like a drag, on a thick cigarillo
from fat lips, fat teeth
fat, you know the drill
ear didn't clover though, despite her Irish eyes
she isn't lucky, enough
to have scars, that we can see
green with liberty
she is tall, held fire until it shattered
in '17, now she has flash backs
when men in black, held a pen
to her nose and clicked, now
she's just a rumor,
"I hear she used to represent freedom"
"I never knew her"
I believe,
if the statue of liberty had a voice;
and she does...
I believe,
if the statue of liberty had red heels;
she could run...
I believe,
if the statue of liberty was a mother;
and she was,
she would have died,
a loud, running, mother,
too young.
Sep 27, 2018
Sep 27, 2018 at 7:51 PM UTC
Half moon high
In a deepening sky
The clouds like spider cotton,
Like blue ivory husks betwixt
Umber grey misty fog,
The diablerie of dusk
Dark sky and stars
The streets flooded,
a river of headlights, flashlights,
Sidewalks’ pedestrian traffic,
An Armada of munchkins, crowds
Strolling by Chinatown’s
Crisp neon plazas,
A necropolis bright with
Cartoon sharp signage
Accessorizing restaurants with
Jade And gold, foot spas
And red doors…
Horrors of hangings
Roast ducks and pigs decapitated…
Yet the evening is dressed finely still
All eyes lurking
Shadows floating by
Not to be forgotten tonight
Dias de las Muertos
En espanol…
While down the road
Neighborhood way
Skitters Lilliputian creatures
In shells of Saver’s costumes
As squeals of laughter festoons
Boulevard life with
Tiny tintinnabulations
Like baby rattlers
Against the dark
(Maracas for chupacabras)
Timorous parent folk
Encouragement as company,
They Scurry past
Down dim spatial street
In demand of what is given freely
From each and every door
Treat and sweets
Caries galore
All their tricks cached in grins
Of baby teeth
turn candy corn…
Mischievously the meek milk
All Hallows' Eve For
Hallowed be the glee
Even tho' beneath
The web of grey cloudy sky
Life is precious
To deny
The thirsty as it rains
Misery’s loss deep dismal graves,
We should live in celebration
Childlike everyday
Sing and dance
In the October rain
In this wonder
Like rattlers against the dark
Far from wastes of
Hollow wind and pain,
Chilling cries, bleeding eyes,
Undead the unseen
From this cirque city of sins
Offsprings on the strip
Fearless on the boulevard
Treating & tricking
With ole candied lies…
All done up in bright disguise
Happy Halloween.
Oct 24, 2019
Oct 24, 2019 at 10:29 PM UTC
How I am aware of each of your moves,
Undoubted
Your fingers drawing my imperfections so flawless
The inexorable yet calm breathes
Like scared ghosts in haunted rooms
Our teeth trying to elude the fated collisions
But tongues worn out of untying themselves
Sometimes lost in the abyss of your elfin face
Sometimes returning with a smidgen of yourself
I could feel the earth stopping it's boring rotation
And resolving to a rhythmic oscillation
My eyes burn from the ocean over my eyelids,
The knots in my chest untangling with it's each beat
As if the pernicious inhabitants started to vacate their indefinite abode
Our rained bods sailing,unbridled, to the irreparable wounds,
Caressing them to axe the pain we cached so perfect
The meekness of your kiss edging the reality a little further each time
The familiar savour of yours filling my nostrils
Elating my senses and drowning me in it
I close my eyes, hard , in a rapture of pain
And hang to the hollows of your ridge
Do your craters ache?
But we now look like parts of a one
Perfectly glued to finish the tangram.
Aug 6, 2020
Aug 6, 2020 at 2:55 PM UTC
Half moon high
In a deep navy sky
The clouds like spider cotton
Blue ivory husks
Umber grey claws / webs
The deepening dusk
In the navy sky
The streets a flood a river of orbs
Armada of effulgence / suns
Headlights
Streaming pass
Crisp neon plaza shores
Cartoon sharp signage
Accessorizing concrete
Floors
The evening is dressed fine eyes smyzing
Shadows floating to be forgotten
While down the road
Neighborhood way
Skitters Liliput creatures
In shells of costumes
As squeals of laughter festoons
Live tintinnabulation
Like rattlers against the dark
As they Scurry cross dim / spatial street
In demand of what is given
From each and every door
Treat and sweets
All their tricks cached in grins
Of teeth.
All Hallows' Eve
Hallowed be the glee
Even tho' beneathe
The web of grey
Life is precious / breathing
Fear forgotten with dismay
We should live in celebration
Childlike everyday
Our wonder
As rattlers against the dark
behind the masks of face
In our eyes there is
The spark
That lights all life
From wastes of
Hollow wind
Chilling cries bleeding
Undead the unseen
From this cirque city
All done up in bright disguise
Happy Halloween
Death as one with life...
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 4:06 PM UTC
I stopped by an old candy store the other day
The same one my parents took me to when I was a kid
Old man Joe still recognized me as the lad who bailed his hay
We chatted for a little and then he asked for some help unloading a skid
His daughter Tracy of whom I went to school with was already in the back there
She was complaining about how her dad should get new candy to fill all the empty beams
I stayed for another hour or so, we cached up as old friends do, she told me her dreams of being the mayor of our little town. Before I left her Dad asked us what kind of new candy he should get.
Without hesitation we both grinned and shouted Jellybeans.
Something that day must have created a spark, because ever since then I held her close to my heart
A few years later, we had our wedding at the old store, we even ran away after on a horse.
Who could of known a place like this, could leave such a big mark
Perhaps the best part was being asked what he had for dessert, we both smiled said Jellybeans of course.
Today she lives her dreams as mayor, while I run Grandpa Joe's candy store.
We expanded a little and even took up a space for ice cream
We have one on the way and another who just turned four
And although Tracy can't help too much anymore, I have help from our little one, of whom we call Jellybean
Jul 1, 2020
Jul 1, 2020 at 11:59 AM UTC
Neighbourhood bash
In a flash
We dashed
We splashed
Garbage thrashed
and cached
We conquered trash
To earn our sash
See you at the rehash
Oct 7, 2019
Oct 7, 2019 at 10:49 AM UTC
A stumble may prevent a fall.
Rise like the sun for every surge that's coming.
A wavering ocean won't wait for you to realize as the captain of your own ship.
Either you keep on cruisin' or follow where the cached stars are leading you.
Throughout the voyage, be reminded you're surrounded by adversities.
Your ship won't be sinking unless you let the water in.
The waves are telling you to be still, and reminding you that they just come and go.
Patiently waiting for the time when the stars can be vividly seen under the sky of dreams.
Mind setting like the sun at every end of the day.
Deep down within, I know there could always be a good thing to sustain me.
Aug 15, 2017
Aug 15, 2017 at 7:41 AM UTC
From this moment on I set my eyes on you
My optics locked into your twinkling stars:
Eyes innocent and compassionate;
A face soft and ******
A cherub’s-seraph’s pedigree
My heart leapt with enthusiasm
My soul raced with altruism
My spirit splinted with your mysticism
My body yearned for your divine deism
My divinity wanted only you-there and then!
The sun stopped journeying and yearning and warming
I wished for it no more to light my days and ways-terraces and spaces
The moon stood still denied of its gracious gleaming and glimmering
I wished for her no more to light my naked nights and surly sights
I only wished for you my love, you-my places and spaces to shimmer
The stars looked livid and tired in their splashing sprinkle twinkle
I wished no more for them to shine and twine-radiate and illuminate
I only wished for you, to be lost in those your lovely innocent eyes look
To last glow and go blind in the lovely looks of your immaculate love book
When you whispered and hummed to my ears and fears
In that Gabriel’s Incarnate Annunciation salutation:
“Hail my love, full of grace, do you truly love, to deserve my love….!”
O Lord! To this venerable voice my simple soul I sincerely bequeath:
My heavy-heart’s, covetous-laden burden, I humbly abandon
And when you massaged and relaxed my spirit
With that inviolate and immaculate heavens’ smile
O Heaven! Why are you so far hidden?
When you touched and cached my heart
In those soft and slender, tender and fonder fingers
O coveting! Why are you so forbidden?
When you caressed and soothed my soul
In those polite palms and arms, smooth as baby’s gentle bums
I ceased to live in this earth and took off to your heaven
I existed no more in this hell of a lot ridden
I set off on a journey to your Eden Garden
You soothed my specter with your peaceful charms
You quelled my elf with your soft, sweet dreams
You opened in me an unquenchable chasm
That could not get enough of your enzymes
An insatiable gorge always seeking for your calm warm
From that moment on-
To this moment here
My love, my lady!
You have always been
My soul’s only queen
I have always loved you the same:
With the same zeal and feel-
Loyal and altruistic!
And I will always love you so
True, to the day I die!
© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 3:54 AM UTC
its the impact
and the implant
that survive this stance
this attraction
I want it to last
between us that we could advance
into another level
of human being
one that obey rules of action
to behave in
and stay that way
we then trickle into separate rooms
choose our future
I know its cocooned either way
and then cached into the files
in that steel frame
when we then return
rolling out like a rolodex of information
waving it in front of each others face
like a roll of hundred dollar bills
and we undo the band
hand out a few
in either direction
to which their rolls others will add
I sincerely appreciate it.
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
In programming, it's the place of discarded code
In my memory, the things unwanted in, and on the road
At work, it overflows with words and deeds of peers
At home, it is persistent litany, of "yes of course, my dear"
I ponder and wonder all the time, words and places I have cached
Filling and emptying, bit bucket containers, going out with the trash
Mar 31, 2017
Mar 31, 2017 at 4:57 PM UTC
Tattered flags
Wedding dress train
White fringe cached in dirt road
Like baggy jeans bottoms
Converse stomped but worn each day like a religion.
Stolkholmes syndrome
Maybe she would have taken off the dress for the right sandpaper hands.
Delicately telling time and wearing her
Down six months
Down eight years
Down in the basement
Ducttape cuffed to a wooden chair
Bandages torn off slow
Like a drag on a thick cigar
From fat lips
Fat teeth
Fat wallets.
She spent a lot of time on her side smashed down on her bruised ear.
From the cold concrete after tipping cedar legs
Or listening too closely
Didn't clover though
Despite the Irish eyes
She isn't lucky enough to have scars
We can see.
Green. She is tall
Held fire shattered in year 20-something
She has flash backs
When men in black
Hold pens to her nose and click
A boat from Ellis island
Rainstorm on white picket signs and fences in a dance of coin and sweat
Under long arms
Holding the hilt
Called the broken blade fire.
Say there's a mountain somewhere that matched her on tinder
Three men's faces carved into it.
I hear she used to represent freedom
Before being robbed of her flaming sword
I bet if the statue of liberty had a voice
And she does
She would wear a red dress.
No makeup
Sew her mouth shut
Love the pain
and post Gore **** pictures
on adult websites as confession.
I believe the statue of liberty owns stripper heels
And can run in them.
I believe god is a broken torchlight.
I believe being consumed by the fires of god is a metaphor
For drowning in the green shrapnel of a voice or a wedding dress.
I believe I am ready to be a statue
To drop my fire in the ocean
Crumble under America
be found in Atlantis under pounds of enough pressure
only the angler fish can tempt me.
At least underwater
Men are ***** producing parasites
And I can drown in something beautiful.
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 7:15 PM UTC
I was dead
Every kiss, from the beginning: empty
Nothingness
It was easy to feel nothing
Nothing was nothing
or maybe it was him...
Dead
The lies were rotting his insides
Plastic encasing his face
Or maybe it was me...
Pushing and pulling my weights on my ankles
They were toys, not chains.
And he didn't like that.
...
Maybe it was us...
Maybe we killed each other
Grinding each other into dust
Into nothingness
I wished I pulled away
but I so badly wanted to feel
So I kept forcing the gears to grind
I wanted to feel what my thoughts were screaming
"This boy is a God-send!"
Maybe that's why I buried my bible...
My spirits were slashed
I had rather we decay together
Than to loose faith in feeling
But faith isn't fact
because on paper we were vile
We needed to burn our book
...so I did
My insides caught flame
but I remember is the glow of the embers
The story distorts as new anecdotes are cached
All that pain for more numb nothingness.
My faith was placed wrong pile
I relished in the the absence
but the body that desperately wanted to feel
Was telling me from the start...
No flame
No spark
No love
Just blind faith
in numb nothingness.
Jul 17, 2019
Jul 17, 2019 at 10:24 PM UTC