"deletion" poems
We use video games
To make video gains
Until the screen goes black
And reality attacks
We lose all our progress
In the deletion process
As we level up we devolve
Around the TV we revolve
The more experience we gain
The more moments we lose
Our memories forever stained
When this is what we choose
Our life inside a hard drive
Our life becomes a hard lie
We revel in being unwise
Rage quitting life
We enjoy strife
And avoid pesky light
When we live in the dark
With consumerist plights
We are all marks
Video games balance in a zone
Between game and art
The frustration starts
When art is confused for games
And games mistook for art
People take things to heart
And spitefully spew viper venom
If this is where games send them
Then why do we play?
We have no other way
To feel accomplishment
In a society that worships competition
Video games become the second edition
Of a life filled with loss
On our pixelated cross
We are murdered millions of times
Reminiscent of the millions of lies
That make us losers in the real world
Video games become our shiny pearl
The computer displays defeat
When our lives aren't complete
Because we need someone to beat
Not realizing our lives are conquered
By frivolous topics we've pondered
Our meaningless life squandered
And hope comes in the form of new releases
While inside our faulty headset is in pieces
Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 3:13 AM UTC
Anonymity is an illusion
He tells me.
He tells me,
No-one can remain unknown
On the World Wide Web.
Don't think deletion makes a difference,
Don't think that everything you've ever sent
Received
And posted,
Isn't hosted on a server
Forever,
Awaiting discovery and disclosure.
He could find me in minutes,
He could find me,
If he wanted to.
He doesn't,
But what if he did?
What if he did?
I would feel safer
If I'd posted intimate photos
Or sexted a thousand faceless strangers.
My poems are a diary of my soul,
My hearts' helpless, hopeful blog.
They expose me.
No-one knows me here,
But he could find me,
And he would know.
No-one is anonymous,
No-one is unknown.
Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 7:48 AM UTC
Symmetry, balance-
Perfection.
It is possible.
You have to know how to blend.
Shade the yin with the yang.
Redefine---------------------------------------------
Never say the curse.
Politeness...
You must know the truth.
Mix the knowing with pretend.
Now, choose your words well.
They listen.
The light from the screen
Pulls the dark
From within my mind.
It asks me what's on my mind.
If only you knew...
I type lies.
Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies.
Lies. Lies. Lies.
LIES. LIES. LIES. LIES. LIES. LIES. LIES.
Because they don't want the truth.
You don't want the truth.
I need lies.
I can't be myself.
I am sin.
Worse than that, I'm wrong.
I can't ever change my mind,
Because there it is,
Forever.
I show what you crave-
Perfection.
It's all tremendous.
This life full of happiness.
No gray, only white.
For your eyes.
When I power down,
I'm weeping.
Tears of confusion.
Tears of impotence and rage,
Because I know - Truth.
Perfection.
Each day, I fear death.
Wish for it.
Each day reminding,
I take a shot for sugar
Because I was weak.
Misguided.
Each day, I am weak.
I pretend.
I want to lash out.
Want the world to feel my pain.
But I don't do it.
I love you.
What is on my mind?
Hate, anger/
No one really cares.
If I die tonight, who cares?
The world keeps spinning,
Deletion.
Programming to cope,
Coded hope-
Trust we'll meet again.
But I'll be in the ground soon.
Fed on by the worms.
No more words.
So I stay hidden.
Sit with the truth
That I am pointless.
All of this is just pointless.
Symmetry of good
And evil.
I'll be what you want.
To save you.
I've figured it out.
Perfect in isolation.
I'll stay here and wait
For the void.
Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies.
Even more-----
I don't really love.
I don't have true empathy.
No, those are all LIES!
No, I choose.
Can you see me now?
Do you know?
My eyes are of fire.
My thoughts are vitriolic.
But my words are sweet.
So pleasant.
Do you understand?
Who am I?
If you say, "Devil"-
Oh you, so full of terror.
You fear yourself too----
Do you not?
Jul 7, 2018
Jul 7, 2018 at 8:55 AM UTC
There was no one at the funeral
No one there to say goodbye
It took them two whole weeks to find him
No one knew that he had died
Set out in the countryside
A farm with lots of land
He died there in his easy chair
It was just, but not as planned
We grew up there with no neighbors
Just a dad and his three girls
No one heard our screaming
In our pinies and our curls
THE MONSTER ISN'T IN THE ROOM
NOT IN THE CLOSET, NOR 'NEATH THE BED
HE'S IN THE BEDROOM DOWN THE HALL
DAD'S THE MONSTER IN HIS STEAD
HE COMES TO MY ROOM IN THE NIGHT
AND DOES THINGS THAT DAD'S DON'T DO
HE TOUCHES ME WHERE HE SHOULD NOT
DID HE TOUCH THE OTHERS TOO?
It's my task to clean out the house
To get rid of all that's here
There's memories in every room
And nightmares too, I fear
The scent of Borkhum Riff
Still hangs lightly in the air
I remember it as he lay down
It was in his clothes and hair
I can smell his after shave cologne
In the living room, it lingers
I remember lying silent
As he probed me with his fingers
THE MONSTER ISN'T IN THE ROOM
NOT IN THE CLOSET, NOR 'NEATH THE BED
HE'S IN THE BEDROOM DOWN THE HALL
DAD'S THE MONSTER IN HIS STEAD
HE COMES TO MY ROOM IN THE NIGHT
AND DOES THINGS THAT DAD'S DON'T DO
HE TOUCHES ME WHERE HE SHOULD NOT
DID HE TOUCH THE OTHERS TOO?
Boxes of old memories
To discard of and move out
I don't want to take them with me
Not with the memories about
My bedroom, like the others
Sits unchanged through out the years
There isn't many smiles there
Just dirt amongst the tears
I wonder as I go outside
To get a break from all the smells
I know he's not in heaven
My daddy's down in hell
THE MONSTER ISN'T IN THE ROOM
NOT IN THE CLOSET, NOR 'NEATH THE BED
HE'S IN THE BEDROOM DOWN THE HALL
DAD'S THE MONSTER IN HIS STEAD
HE COMES TO MY ROOM IN THE NIGHT
AND DOES THINGS THAT DAD'S DON'T DO
HE TOUCHES ME WHERE HE SHOULD NOT
DID HE TOUCH THE OTHERS TOO?
As time goes by know what I
Must do with this old place
I must obliterate it from my mind
And build a new house in it's place
Five miles from the closest farm
All alone with none around
I can free myself form the nightmare
If I burn it to the ground
I call up both my sisters
Knowing what he did to me
He wouldn't be selective
He did it to all three
THE MONSTER ISN'T IN THE ROOM
NOT IN THE CLOSET, NOR 'NEATH THE BED
HE'S IN THE BEDROOM DOWN THE HALL
DAD'S THE MONSTER IN HIS STEAD
HE COMES TO MY ROOM IN THE NIGHT
AND DOES THINGS THAT DAD'S DON'T DO
HE TOUCHES ME WHERE HE SHOULD NOT
DID HE TOUCH THE OTHERS TOO?
Through arguments and logic
I lay out to them my plan
They tell me they will come home
They'll be there when they can
The day arrives as do the girls
We start the plan out in the patch
We've each one can of gasoline
And we each have just one match
The house burns rather quickly
Oily smoke it fills the air
The only thing that's missing
Is that the monster isn't there.
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
we are the misfits,
looking for reason,
every day goes by,
another dealt with treason
we are the misfits,
just looking for our freedom,
making up our goals,
and just trying to seize them
we are the misfits,
just living with no reason,
every day goes by,
waiting for our deletion
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 8:06 PM UTC
I Believe
.
I believe a butterfly
Can stop a baseball game
I know, because I've seen it
And it really was a shame,
I believe a simple housefly
Can stop a moving train,
I believe single piece of dust
Can also make it rain
I believe in every mountain
There's a pebble on it's own
I believe that every grain of sand
Is a pearl that hasn't grown
I believe that Father Christmas
Is quite real and in your heart
I believe that you can finish
Every task, if you just start
I believe, like Charlie Bucket
There's a golden ticket to be found
I believe that a tree that's in the forest
When it falls, will make a sound
I believe in every mountain
There's a pebble on it's own
I believe that every grain of sand
Is a pearl that hasn't grown
I believe that love's forever
But the one thing about this
I believe forever's infinite
And it may just last a kiss
I believe to stay together
That one's trust, it must be earned
I believe you jump into the fire
Before you know if you'll get burned
I believe in every mountain
There's a pebble on it's own
I believe that every grain of sand
Is a pearl that hasn't grown
I believe that a strong handshake
Will seal a contract, so I've heard
I believe one's reputation
Should be based on a mans' word
I believe that there is wonder
In everything that we may find
I believe that life is better
When you can have an open mind
I believe we're just a heartbeat
In the timeline life has spanned
I believe that every person
Is an ungrown grain of sand
I believe in every mountain
There's a pebble on it's own
I believe that every grain of sand
Is a pearl that hasn't grown
I believe....
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC
Completion is the form I crave in my soul to achieve. Deletion is what I am currently conforming towards....
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 8:33 PM UTC
Dead people are no doubt bored, so I'm sure these folks would be happy for free food and conversation. Of course, this is just a partial list, subject to addition and deletion. Feel free to add your own in comments.
Buddha, but a light lunch.
Jesus, but kosher of course.
****** come on, who wouldn't.
James Joyce, just to mock him.
George Washington, to try to catch him in a lie.
Hemingway, but just for drinks.
Reagan, to deliver some Depends.
Bakunin, for mutual aid.
William Butler, my ancestor who survived The Wheatfield at Gettysburg.
Audrey Hepburn, but a date, not lunch.
Ingmar Bergman, just to cheer me up.
Ervin Schrödinger, about that cat.
Shakespeare, because I've always wanted to meet an extra-terrestrial.
Ezra Pound, to tell him he was right about usury.
God, to let her know how disappointed I am.
Richard Nixon, so I could drive a stake through his heart.
Julia Child, just to hear her voice again.
Lenin, because he was a self-starter.
Mozart, because he would be fun.
Emma Goldman, to dance.
James Dean, as we look so much alike.
Janis Joplin, because I might get lucky.
Come on, I'm sure you can add to the list. Don't be shy, try.
mce
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 7:27 PM UTC
How I long to grasp at Heaney's squat pen
Instead of flying lightning fingertips
Across a headache-bright square.
A flare of brilliance
Is better captured the old way,
But there would have to be a transfer,
Which would lead to hesitation
Then deletion,
(Plus there's too much guilt about trees,
And I can never find a pen).
Heaney hesitated, too
And dwelt on digging,
Before acceptance, and resolve.
My fingers flutter over letters, seeking my own answer,
Determined to dig myself
Out of this hole.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 4:29 PM UTC
There's one e-mail I always delete and it's yours
and it's not the boring repetitive ones or the ones that have nothing at all
to do with me, I can let those stack up in my mail box
I have a collection, thousands of them
But you and yours, make me ill. How you brag and have
taken over what was my job last year and is now so clearly yours
and have you ever, ever even said a word to me, even though I was
the one to do the ***** work to get it all started? No, I am just
so last year to you. I don't exist. I see your bragging testimonials
to your greatness followed by pleading ones for money--teddy grams?
Really. And the one time I did see you, you were not nice.
So I delete your e-mail and really I'd like to delete the whole experience from
my mind. All those late hours in that cold theater with undisciplined kids
Always thinking, I am doing this to have a job for the future.
This is why. And then you just waltz in and you were so excited
I sent you my acknowledgement you were given the job and you were
so breathless oh can I tell everyone? Like you just won the lottery and
now I want to send you an e-mail to tell you, do not contact me about this again
Leave me completely alone if you can't be nice.
I don't like your play and I don't like you and this was all a bad experience in total.
I want to delete you, not just your mail. I want to delete you from my mind and my experience
and all the rest of the people involved in this whole sorry affair.
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 9:02 PM UTC
The young boy walked on through the park
His mother close behind
But then he took off swiftly, though
She knew that she would find
Him standing at the Cenotaph
Saluting, ramrod straight
He did it everytime they passed
No matter what the date
He knew that is was honorable
A place to honur those
Who died defending what was right
And every time he froze.
Each time they went to ride the swings
He ran ahead to stand
He did it, and she was proud he did
Though he didn't understand
A silent sentinel...piegeon perch
Memorialized the dead
There were pigeons all around it
And two piegeons on the head
But Billy didn't mind the birds
In fact he liked to say
The piegeons are the soldier men
Who can no longer play
He always walked around all sides
Always looking for the names
Of his father and his uncle
Bill and Randy James
They were taken by an IED
Though that meant nothing to Bill
But each time that he found their names
He then saluted and stood still
He knew that they would not return
Although gone, their names were here
He saluted them each time he came
Of the pigeons, he'd no fear
This silent, solemn cenotaph
Was a place he loved so much
Although he couldn't see his father
His name plate he could touch
He knew that his saluting
Made his mother's heart strings sing
After his silent hello to his dad
He could go play on the swing...
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC
We read our books and pretend to
not make glances at each other.
We smile as if the pages in the book had tickled at our sides.
We write love stories in our heads and forget about the ones on the page.
An uncomfortable warmth surrounds us as we pretend not to pose ourselves in our chairs.
As if we are offering ourselves to the sun to immortalise this youthful love.
Our hands quiver as we turn each page.
Like these stories will ours come to a brief
end?
And though you and I are nothing,
destined for
deletion,
taunted by
extinction.
We pray that these feelings are more than that.
But when I see the stars in your eyes my worries float away,
for I know this love is cosmic.
Feb 24, 2022
Feb 24, 2022 at 10:45 AM UTC
I find myself in a coverless Italian summer.
Grass browned. Skin freckled.
I find myself impatient,
no longer willing to entertain
the destinies of the salt and sea.
I edit video of you in a cobbled basement.
There's a knowing look that lasts four seconds.
I split it into six fragments and set it in reverse,
an unknowing, a deletion.
The crook of your neck
and shoulder blade. The red of your hair.
Some nights I hang from the rails. Five minutes.
Ten. And pull myself up.
Tented and mad by August,
stabbing ice with a little
black cocktail straw.
How can I change my
How can I love my
How can I erase my
body?
The rains wet me.
The wind wrings me.
This city we used to walk
under streetlights.
Now I bike through,
pedaling, furious and blind,
toward a place I don't know until
I arrive, and I kiss a young woman
who looks a lot like me. I ask her
to say my name over and over.
I want to fully occupy the moment,
the space, this time. Her lips
remain closed and her
hands linger on my shoulders
and no music plays and
there are voices, loud and
happy, speaking a language
that's completely new.
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 1:09 PM UTC
Intrepidly neglected, of my lessened reasoning, I am dissected, of my insurrection, from the blessed beens of yesteryear's glints, dancing, parading, and burning, in layers, stages, and fazes, fading, and melting, the plastic faces into the smelting heap, that has come so far, just to inspire me.
Always.
Always you unto me, spiraling, indefinitely into the deep, where ceased is the times, with bloodied hands, and laugh lines, laughing one last time, while glancing toward my watch, under setting suns, and rising stars, smiling faces, and in tearful goodbyes, i realise
The sky's limitlessness
And in all the glory, and all the bliss, the eloquent stories, and the gentle drifts, my imagination uplifts, in wisps of gentleness, where i submit to reason.
Bless-ed be, the one who garners to my support, from a vortex of euphoric antidotes, of mindless quotes, and animated emotes, pulsed, from straight faces, and lost hope.
Ill tell the truth, you can go with nope, in whispered breaths of gun smoke, lathered in lith-dope.
Just trying to cope with the flow, until i crash upon the shores of nevermore, and, explore these holes in my soul intent, ascending from the contempt of bent perspectives, and twisted concepts, letting the blood of the peasant from my arms of harmony, trembling blankly to sleep.
To you a ***** to me tranquility, as i sink, into the world i knew, so that it may be seen, casing the well being, of all the things, and pixelated dreams, from a thieves keep.
Deep, down, below me, in obscurity, i seep, through the soil of my turmoil, until my hand reaches out, from beyond my doubts, and clambers from the shadows, outside of myself.
I am born, of mud, of muck, of the stuff, you're afraid of, and all i bare is love, love to shrug the shams astray, vacating the placation, and dichotomies, unifying light, into one me, shining in the rainy streets, of my deletion
Until my completion
Completely
Erases me.
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 1:41 AM UTC
Dear Lord, please hear my prayer
Each night I ask the same
I'm sure you know me well by now
So, I will not leave my name
My husband is a soldier
Doing duty overseas
I pray you have a moment
to listen to me, please
We have two growing children
And they need their dad around
Please see he gets home safely
Once he's safely homeward bound
I'm sure you hear from others
With the same request as me
Please Lord, give them an answer
Give a sign for all to see
We ask for our young children
They're the ones in need
Please keep our soldiers safe Lord
Once they've planted freedoms seed
I count each day I ask you
I tie a ribbon to a tree
Bring them home for all of us
Don't just bring them home for me
Of all the yellow ribbons
On all the Old Oak Trees
Please Lord, I ask you
I am here upon my knees
Our soldiers left in earnest
Please keep them alive
Let them do their duty
Please keep them safe 'till they arrive
I'll be back again tomorrow
And my prayer will be the same
Like I said, I'm sure you know me
So, I will not leave my name
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 11:30 AM UTC
begin this life in a wordy
but wordly habit, daily,
father-gifted, though different,
in form and language selected,
‘tis the one and ‘tis the same
tally, a counting combination
of all that has been done, for both
better & worse, blessing/curse,
the key: revamp review reset
this day upcoming and welcome
all the major tasks, minor miracles,
that one can effect, select, elect!
by choice, a freedom so great it
tenderly rips joy thoroughly into
and from my cells, and my body
is enlightened, uplifted in this,
now a preposition, a conjugation, a
state of composition,
for the tasks given, the granted,
those that must be taken, those most
difficult, when knowing their choice,
entails pain, untempered, and
requires establishing a two edged
position of composure…
this is a hard and an easy
new proposition I create,
hard for I write on a tiny
phone screen, in letters so
small. it keeps me humbled,
a reminder of having
lived a span well
beyond belief,
for one took\gave body a
careless comfort,
giving little
of the differring
kind of nutrition in order
to live life, well and purposed
hard too, for my body has wept,
a steady stream of silent tears.
unceasing as I scribe,
making vision difficult, the
insight salty but clear and the
words contained within them,
flood for easy laying-down
for this AM workout of counting,
lists up and down, so many items,
of differring nature, even now
noticing for the very fitting first time,
the subtle hint within
differring,
for it possesses a doubling
of the enormity, the division
of what has been already
accumulated and what yet,
needs accomplishing, the tally
needy for resolving looking past,
for seeing with yet more tears
fast-as-you-can-forward
the tally never ends, paused only
for a quick question/happy deletion
of, and a resolute immediate, moving on:
***Where do I stand,
what is my position?***
keep on keeping on,
tallying has no finale,
no sunning/summing up,
for another day
will yet follow,
for you, and
your own
tallying must
goes on, on
and
not even,
nor even,
odd,
when mine,
mine no long,
and the
and yets,
no longer
commence
Dec 19, 2024
Dec 19, 2024 at 12:33 PM UTC
Last Best Shot
July 31, 2020
8:07am
*the morning sunlight. high enough to lighten first café & the future.
warming, mellifluous, biding good tidings, a head, ahead for the day.
sun-in-sky-low, so trees stand taller, shadow-makers, just for now.
grass blotched, pockmarked, alternative hints of hope & mystery.
the bay wave waters stilled, unrolled, unroiled, no-thrashing, omen?
is this wellness? is this a green tea soul and soil infusion, calming?*
*my mind wanders to that remains unaccompanied, unaccomplished.
unwashed breakfast dishes, miles of mail urgently unattended.
poems half-composed, some decomposing, resurrection on the list?
these unwashed word-shards, cry out, if not today, then when?
passerby’s, yachts, kayaks pause, turn, all bow-me-pointing asking?
is today their finale, burial by deletion, or their* last, best shot?
my reflection, neutral-neutered mien in 19oz. Blue Mountain
black coffee, in a Canadian Macintosh porcelain mug, provides
no clue, accident or incident, but inquires: why the adrenaline?
Aug 2, 2022
Aug 2, 2022 at 8:37 AM UTC
a father at a table
looking at
two blocks.
his hash
mark
mind
suspended above
his image
as it flickers
between
adult supervision
and acts
of resuscitation.
his child
breathing
for blanket.
doctor’s orders
my special hat
is a dark
cloud.
spacing issues
have disappeared.
thin air is a black sheep born without a black kitten’s heart.
tell him
belief
is twice
the distance
abandonment
leaves.
that for baby longhand
a father easily
beautifies
the unburied deep.
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
Social media
What a great way
To bring the world together
Connection and communication
At the flick of a finger
And the touch of a button
Lonesomeness is a send away
From deletion.
Social media
Share the vulgarity,
Expose the ignorance,
And uneducated minds
Of fellow manunkind.
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 11:27 PM UTC
This life is new to me and I am learning to enjoy the moments. There have been many first times just this year. I now understand what it means to love at first sight. Loving unconditionally has been taught from watching my children love their mates. There are new fights that are being fought. No not with hands as we grow those fights are done away with. The fight for another day is with in me.
While many other things are on constant repeat. There are many new experiences that are being had. Today was the first day that I believe my sister finally tried to understand me. People sometimes paint you to be the person that they think that you are. Or who they want you to be. When I listen to people tell me who I am. What kind of person have always been and it is laughable. It is more than strange that people can know you all of your life and know nothing about you. I have been told that, “you only let people get so close.” This might be true but if I do it should say a lot to you. Trust is earned and never just given.
If I push you away it is because you put me in the situation to. New dreams and heart beats warm my inner being. My mind-set is different. Before I wanted you to know that I am there for you and would put myself to the side to provide. I never looked for anything in return. That mind-set has changed. I can no longer give my all to everyone. I have learned to replenish myself no other human can do that for me.
I am not returning calls that I don’t want to make. I will no longer participate in events to show others that I care. I will not lack sleep to benefit someone that does not deserve my attention. If I delete you I am not interested in knowing that you are offended. You earned your deletion and I hope that you do well. With these small first's I can’t wait to see what more is to come.
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 11:21 PM UTC
All the locked messages,
Saved on my phone.
That little paddle lock,
Saving themselves from deletion.
All the locked messages,
Remind me of how I fell so hard.
But recovered without a scratch or cut,
Because you were there to catch me.
Jan 10, 2012
Jan 10, 2012 at 8:09 PM UTC
Your friendship feeds the fire
Because you're my entire
You're my whole completion
But I have a worry secretion
You'll use a companion deletion
When we're having fun
You and I are one
I feel extremely close to you
For you teach me the value of two
But you begin to lose me
At the introduction of three
Jealousy piles on more
Once you reach four
And so on and so on
Until I'm all gone
The fire we've built together is too great
I fear the day
You are burnt by the friendly fire
The pain brings you to your senses
And you notice the extent of my wildfire
Having no semblance of control
It must be extinguished
Because by this point
It's all I can see
Part of my family tree
A fire that burns so bright
It protects me from night
But the fire was so red
It travelled to my head
You see how that went
With me pitching a tent
To hide in solitude
From the steam that rises
When fires must be put out
Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 5:52 AM UTC
we meet in a neutral space to exchange the boy we didn’t for the girl we did. I still feel as if I’m on the inside of something pretty. it is always on the eve of this deletion, at the end of my dual research, that I forgo the deeper waters for god’s raindrop. here, again, it falls to my thumb to rub toothpaste from the toenail she couldn’t
with me
looking
reach.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 8:43 PM UTC