"capacitor" poems
It's 3AM and all of the streetlights are flashing,
Yellow, Yellow, YELLOW,
like they have the same fever I do.
I believe that streetlights are a subliminal form of messaging,
just letting me know, that all of the communist party members
of China are actually martians. But most nights they usually just
complain about how ***** they are. And as I pass underneath
I tap my accelerator in a sympathetic way, that says
I know man, I feel your pain, and I think,
he doesn't even have hands to help him out.
As the distance between us grows
I also long, for a companion to help
discharge my capacitor.
Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 1:25 PM UTC
Headlights, LED's, burning bright
Into my retinas, reflected in rear view
And side mirrors, a radiator grill just
Visible, almost the outline of a person
Behind the wheel, androgynous ghost,
Mad Max or just mad, determined
To drive to wherever, faster than
Anyone else, cocooned in black leather
Heads up display laid out across sweeping
Digital dashboard, vying to pass me;
But what of the queue plainly ahead
Stretching to far horizon, vanishing point,
Perhaps it is supernatural, absorbing traffic
Clearing the way by passing through it,
An alien craft with technology far
Advanced from our slow turning wheels
Selfishly driving alone in our home from
Home interiors, gathering subjects
For an out of this world experience
Or maybe a time machine
Like Back to the Future powered by flux
Capacitor, it will disappear and turn up
Ahead of all of us, or maybe my imagination
Has run riot and it's just another impatient
Idiot.
Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 6:23 AM UTC
I’m always yelling at myself
For the things I took for granted
They said to save yourself
But I called them cowards
And threw it all ahead
Screaming, tomorrow will be better
Better
Much better
Every day that’s not today is destined for greatness
A steady decline in sadness
Until one day my tombstone will read
“EVERYTHING WAS BEAUTIFUL AND NOTHING HURT”
(That one’s Vonnegut, but I bet you knew that)
See, my flux capacitor’s broken
And I’ve been reading this **** backwards
I just want to go back
I used to be such a show off
Collecting my experiences just to line them up on shelves
Lists of proof of my own beauty
My bright future
Proof that I’ve been loved
Of all of my different selves
I like that one the least
But miss her the most
Now I try not to leave the house
And when my phone rings I get really anxious
Now I feel like I’m always fighting
But there’s nobody around
So I’m fighting with belt buckles and doorknobs
And I resent the people who make those things look easy
Now a part of me feels angry when my friends ask me out
They don’t understand
That’s not self pity
They’d understand if I told them
But that would require answering my phone
And I just can’t do that today
I know I’m being selfish
Self absorbed and petty
But my heart has finally ruptured
It couldn’t hold all of the empty promises I’ve filled it with
And I’m tired of fighting
Now all that my shelves hold
Are stacks of reasons why I want to go back to bed
And the only list I have
Is filled with concrete evidence
That tomorrow will not, in fact,
Be better
Not better
Because today is worse than yesterday
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 9:35 PM UTC
Is this
and that’s
all there is
before the thought becomes fleeting
like the next
and the day after,
the clichéd story your mind perhaps
upon
this future mystery of a happening
you've already started remembering
Is this
all we have to look for
forward to
wondering if this brain cell’s
thought creative nerd
to put forth on the edge
on the confrontational
abyss of a blank page
is enough
thorough
fair and still
contradictory enough
to ride the grind
of someone else’s nerve
We wonder
Is this all there is
because we could have
sworn there was more
than this
to offer and accept and worship and appreciate and cherish and love and adorn
with tiny boxes of truth
on every branch
of something or someone
but we watch and wonder
Is this what I was ever trying to say
It just wound round into
this something of something
spilt on the page
A little dialogue of soul tribes
trying to call a little bit of themselves home.
I want to physically ****** my life
I want to take my life out with a ******
I want to tear it apart with my teeth,
gnaw at it with forgiveness blood
on my cheekbones
I want to hold it between my fangs
and sniff at it with my liver
I want to grapple it perfect,
and inhale the bitter bite
of its wild corpsey stench
And then, I want to nurse it’s beauty
and unwholelyness.
There is more. There has to be more.
More than when you
haven’t finished your question
and the answer is
I haven’t even finished my beer yet
you wonder
what was the question
that you heard
You want to hike through golden gate park and do some shrooms?
Have you ever climbed monkey bars at midnight?
Why are giraffes so tall?
And it all shovel pours into the question
Is there some flux capacitor continuum
where time is enough
where time for me isn't separate
where time for me is always
enough?
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 1:56 AM UTC
Capacitor plate ల మద్య insulation లా నీ feelings దాచేసావే.
Diode forward bias లా నీ మనసు చప్పట్లు pass చెయ్యవే .
Zener reverse bias లా నా voltage stabilise చేసేయ్యవే .
Transistor regions లాగా ముచ్చు మూడైనా stages లో ఉన్నావే .
Cut చేసే వీలుమ్డే cut-off నుండి బయటకిరావే.
మితిమీరే అవకాశం ఉండే saturation నుండి తప్పుకుపోవే .
Universal Acceptance లా active stage కి చేరిపోవే .
Amplifier లాగా నీ ప్రేమను సైతం double triple అవ్వాలే .
ఎ input లేని స్పందించే oscillator నా heart అది chese beat ఏలే .
Infinite oscillations తో నీవెనకే నేను నాతొ నా ప్రేమ .
నన్ను control చేసే feedback loop ఎ నువ్వు .
నువ్వు చెప్పింది చేసే circuit నేను .
Transistor లా Switch అల్లే మన ఇరువురి ప్రేమని connect చేసేసే .
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 10:50 AM UTC
It only took three days
for me to think
I'd finally found someone
perfect and I begged
you for your flaws
you discombobulated
my love flux capacitor
penetrated my apathy
and climbed my spine
with your diction
you made my heart
want
again
you made my heart
think all the time
I'd wasted
wanting to find
my match
my someone
were the final yards
to a destitute race
but then you
called it quits
while I made
foolish plans
left me to wallow
in a murky shower
of self deprecation
and wonder
who gets to love you
and why she's not me
Jan 3, 2012
Jan 3, 2012 at 3:31 AM UTC
For the first time, the viewfinder fails to lose your years—
It kisses collapsed jowls, coaxes wire from your scalp,
Lauds that torn ear (which I swear is lower than before).
Each time you turn your head, my disgust at your denouement
Bows to disgust at my revulsion.
(By the time I finish my Flux Capacitor it will be too late and
You are already paying for my lethargy.)
Cactus coughs clamber out of your throat.
I close my eyes and you sigh and
I breathe in, involuntarily.
Words coarsen my throat and you and I and even our resident quarks know that you will die.
Feb 4, 2010
Feb 4, 2010 at 3:36 PM UTC
Is this
and that’s
all there is
before the thought becomes fleeting
like the next
and the day after,
the clichéd story your mind perhaps
upon
this future mystery of a happening
you've already started remembering
Is this
all we have to look for
forward to
wondering if this brain cell’s
thought creative nerd
to put forth on the edge
on the confrontational
abyss of a blank page
is enough
thorough
fair and still
contradictory enough
to ride the grind
of someone else’s nerve
We wonder
Is this all there is
because we could have
sworn there was more
than this
to offer and accept and worship and appreciate and cherish and love and adorn
with tiny boxes of truth
on every branch
of something or someone
but we watch and wonder
Is this what I was ever trying to say
It just wound round into
this something of something
spilt on the page
A little dialogue of soul tribes
trying to call a little bit of themselves home.
I want to physically ****** my life
I want to take my life out with a ******
I want to tear it apart with my teeth,
gnaw at it with forgiveness blood on my cheekbones
I want to hold it between my fangs and sniff at it with my liver
I want to grapple it perfect,
and inhale the bitter bite of its wild corpsey stench
And then, I want to nurse it’s beauty
and unwholelyness.
There is more. There has to be more.
More than when you haven’t finished your question
and the answer is
I haven’t even finished my beer yet
you wonder
what was the question
that you heard
You want to hike through golden gate park and do some shrooms?
Have you ever climbed monkey bars at midnight?
Why are giraffes so tall?
Why is my internet connection so slow when is seems I need it most?
And it all shovel pours into the question
Is there some flux capacitor continuum
where time is enough
where time for me isn't separate
where time for me is always
enough?
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 1:54 AM UTC
Those of us who were born cartographers
In the modern age, have been doomed from the start.
Our white spaces have been filled and shaded,
Sketched-over and even rent.
Not even a half-inch by half-inch square
Was left to us, and I suspect that
Were we to find a time machine,
Fittied with a working Flux Capacitor,
You would find us all in the midst of the heart of darkness,
armed with pencils and stencils and pregnant maps.
Feb 4, 2010
Feb 4, 2010 at 3:34 PM UTC
You are a part of a race to the edge of the-
universe as it continues to expand.
While the rocket fuel and the flux capacitor-
Were still in ignition we found ourselves floating.
We stood still in the retrospect of time-
But we were moving light years beyond light years.
That was life after all isn't it?
A constant search and race for things-
That slowly become too unnecessary.
Keep chasing that promotion, till you're at the top-
Keep chasing the green notes, till you can buy the world-
Keep chasing the pocket filled friends.
Because one day the only thing chasing you-
Will be loneliness.
Take a little time-
Appreciate the people around you-
See the beauty within nature-
See the beauty within others-
And learn to love.
Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 4:17 PM UTC
my flux capacitor does not have
the jigawatts to take you
to the future
so I guess your stuck with me here
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC
if i were a voltage
and you had a current
would you still try and resist it?
(is another way of saying)
if i had potential
and you a capacitor
would you still try and charge it?
(which means to say)
if i carried weight
and you a bit scarred
would you still try and keep it?
(or in other words)
if i were a beacon
and you were a map
would you still need to enlarge it?
there's beauty here in getting lost
we feel the warmth beneath the frost.
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 3:59 AM UTC
My bars shoot so far
They clip Mars and peel back stars.
Yeah that's shooting stars.
Marco MC-FLY driving floating cars.
Check my Flux capacitor I'm the futures embassador.
Just a teacher to future leaders, one of loves top preachers.
Here to expose the creatures with hideous insidious features.
Exterminate every parasite in sight.
Terminate the hate that blocks sight of the light.
I have written to many 16's, about 20 16's
Trying to rise above the scenes they put on screens of events so malevolent, nothing but schemes painted as bad dreams like an orange faced president.
And it's got everyone hesitant. Breaking down like water in the sand, that's sediment. A country of immigrants who took every natives resident.
I GO by Marco MC-FLY because I've done my history lesson.
Payed attention asked better questions and seen the futures true intentions.
These false idols are the stars i shoot at.
Now that i see the intention of you falling I want my wish back.
Your nothing but a ball off gas and we can smell that,
Some of you wastes of space need to be replaced. They just trash stinking up the place....
Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 6:40 PM UTC