"electrically" poems
I fall faster than gravitational acceleration.
Body jerks, vibrate like an earthquake.
Body and mind go separate ways.
Physical overcomes mental strength.
Muscles gain strength.
I can kick like an Ostrich.
Dare not to touch me.
Only I can reunite my body and mind.
The reunion results in confusion.
I get electrically shocked by migraines.
The joy of the reunion is short-lived.
I ask myself all the “Whys” in the world.
Only God knows why.
https://www.facebook.com/EpilepsyandCpfriends/
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 6:00 AM UTC
"Gusto ko nang lumaya, pero alam kong kailangan mo ako." -Dagang Electrically Dextrosed
"Pahingi ng kumot, nilalamig na ako." - Kapeng Medyo Mainit (May pinagdaraanan: Evaporation)
"Patayin mo na ako habang wala pang nakakakita, tutal, yun at yun lang din naman ang gagawin mo eh!" - Puyat na Fluorescent Lamp
"Relax lang, sandal ka lang." - Pasensyosong Silya
"Alam ko pagod ka na, tara na." - Kamang Wala sa Lugar
"Hinding-hindi kita iiwan." - Mapagmahal na Eyebag
"Kailangan naming mag-grow! Walang makakapigil s amin!" - Unstoppable Pimples
"Tama na yan!" - Zombie ko
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 4:24 PM UTC
in a dark of frenzy it boils up inside
until summarily and inexplicably
see the colour between brown and blue
more than see it, immerse myself in it
swimming slowly in its clouds
see the colour between brown and blue
everywhere votive candles light
the colour between brown and blue
with slender tapers that touch a life
any life, your life
casting strange shadows, loose shadows
between the colour of brown and blue
children swarm, children with bright white
starvation hair, children with hands
like small worn mittens
who raise red swarms in hot worn out
death laden dust
dust that cauterizes the nostrils
with the stench of penurious insanity
the colour between brown and blue
that inveigles a purchase of flies
bottle blue, black blue, green blue,
swarming blue, swirling whirling blue
a black and blue confetti of flies
then the sudden zero of the
colour between brown and blue
hair raising, command faith
willed, willing, mumbling, murmuring
the excitement of writing between
the colour of brown and blue
trees shake and tremble
words regurgitate themselves like hot
food, the bark, write
now fully electrically charged
seized by the colour between brown and blue
forget everything else, write, write more, more, write
trembling with sudden shudders of merciless
vowels, madness penurious pencil
moves across, demanding paper
pushing worn words, worthy words whittled by use
words not yet written, words of wonder
oh what words
beautiful, baffling,baleful, words
with beastly beatitudes, words that conjure the mind
words between brown and blue
that leave you skinny like a stray dog
words so demanding leave you shut up in an
airless abattoir of high energy and low residue
the colour between brown and blue
where everywhere is everywhere else
touched by the flames of the colour between brown and blue
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 11:01 PM UTC
mouth syncing up digital brain,
electrically bounding the physical
with the ethereal analog bond
bound up and wrapped,
in fiber optic blankets,
secrets passing layer to layer
heard only by quadraphonic
receivers echoing out
into a singularity of conciseness,
confirmed by units of two
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 2:13 AM UTC
An emporium full of visual delights, moonbeams bounce and dance, around a pitted cloud clear site.
A shooting star shining, a whooshing sound if heard, lights the sky as it blazes bright, starting in the east, accelerating, disappearing out of pleasured sight.
Stars blaze illuminating dark, the galaxy forming its magical map of horoscopes in this glorious orb, Its North Star guidance for some who navigate upon our planet earth be it on land air or under the sea, a million or more miles the distance should we achieve the ability to or want to go see up close these glowing planets of rock, gas and ore.
Dying stars growing in their brightness, as if, a last attempt of holding life,
Glowing brighter than before their internal charges disperse, fading no longer able to ignite.
Dancing colours in the north and south, painted great abstracts wide and far,
Hues of fusing reds oranges yellows greens across dark blue,
Spectacular moments for those with time to sit, observe and view, these magical electrically charged special dancing hues.
Reflections distorting down below, hues shading, appearing blushed as oceans gush and light rides upon a moonlit magnetic heaving tide, a tide awaiting, a stage set for two
Only you can see the magic being created in front of misted, barely woken if open eyes,
Only you can see the rising spirits coming up to play upon the core of sphere,
Under the kaleidoscope twinkling melee filled bustling sea and sky.
Rise up, a beckon, a call to you, come join this light filled orb of invisible tunes,
Where a piano plays a serenade and the orchestra complements with
Soft sounds of Trombones, cello’s, violins, tuba’s, drums and flutes
A tempo set to sweep excited people off their seat and on into their dancing shoes
Rise up in your sparkly dancing dress and shoes for you are floating Imagination growing with every timeless move
Twinkling stars blinking approval, reflections in the agreeing tide as it ebbs and flows.
Rise up, move, dance, sway, step and jump to those imaginary magical tunes
A prince of darkness, a dreaming queen
A loving scene, a glory electrically charged night time dancing dream.
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 2:31 PM UTC
My home, dank, dark, and grey
its schools that ebb and sway
its heart where the demons play
my home, dank, dark and grey
My home, sober, soiled, and tired
its tastes dull but acquired
its veins electrically wired
my home, sober, soiled, and tired
My home, the stoic jungle of stone
a concrete empire with no throne
where everyone feels alone
my home, the stoic jungle of stone.
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 2:13 PM UTC
My hands around your heart,
grip ceasing pulsation,
dying sconce, ember fades.
Convulsion, revulsion,
pathetic emotive,
response contradiction.
Electrically impulsive
transmission flat lines addiction,
and radiates into ether.
© Copyright Mr. James P Machen 26/08/2014 for viewing only. May not be replicated.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 8:46 PM UTC
~
tension swirled tornado style
within the confine of a judicial chamber
parties argued in the din
and slow steady breathing found one plaintiff
barely able to see walls meet
blue eyes fell into a fixed gaze
voices drifting on waves of blue-green
carried a body without substance across golden fields
darting sparrows altered the sky
creating patches of shadow and cloud
then turning and switching pace
uniform movements seemed military and precise
still, an ethereal accused traveled wide skies
watching rooftops pass and fade into horizon
then the deserts and forests came and went
sea’s followed and disappeared
back in the barren walled room
raised voices told tales of chairs electrically charged
a lifetime of punishment for a moment of indiscretion
these noises found a smile
as heaven had been found and was internal. /
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 12:08 PM UTC
Electrical Ghosts.
I'm glad that you
didn't have to fade
out of life
on support.
I feel sorry,
for all the new technologic ghosts.
Electrically wired into a circuit board of uncertainty and doubt.
That represent you in a series of
up
down,
up,
down,
down lines
that pace about
the pixilated to pharmaceutical perfection,
screened monitor
above your hospitol bed.
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 10:52 AM UTC
Ears echoing droplets
amplified overhead,
seeking attachment to skin,
running down edges,
a soft hum of gadgetry
reminding the soul of how it's spun,
electrically...
as hours toll by tower,
and languished breath
seeps down circular steps;
concrete poured within,
anguish is met by horizon,
unsure whether
night or day,
the bells ...
the bells ...
the bells....
the bells....
the bells....
http://www.robross.ca
Apr 5, 2010
Apr 5, 2010 at 1:25 AM UTC
is it strange then to long for wild mountains that spring from all angles?
and stretch to the a sky filled with clusters of white
which escape from view quickly with an ocean wind
to see the unordered grass trompled over by livestock
on their way to the sole tree in the pasture
seeking a brief salvation from a stark ozone-less sun
no bureaucrat planned, manicured this land
he did not sit in a lofty office, feeling the cool breeze of electrically chilled air
it was not voted on, the way the waves are to crash
he did not need the approval of his lay out for pebbles on the beach
corruption did not intermingle the trees, making it cumbersome for humans
or the reclining alp's angles
they were left to the law engrained in movement
the unknown dispersion of marbles across the ground, scientific wonders
now they sit, in their building, living monuments of time
springing up from the ground like ant hills
not understanding
standing on the previous lives of men
entitled
my land
my city
my country
and i long for, my archipelago
stretch of green, a harmonious chord
pining after the days
in D.O.C camps
barefooted
gritty
the feel of sand in the bottom of my sleeping bag
and the wonder of no-man's-land
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 9:44 PM UTC
A blue sun beats down from
An electrically charged sky
I step into chaos an exodus
Towards the wastelands of
Fragmentation and depletion where
Fictions are invented daily and all
Images change where the shadows
Of life disappear in desperation
Where blood drips from eyes
Into a cataclysm that waits
Strung out in the black void
Clock hands attach themselves
To my mind piercing sentiments
Of shame
They elucidate the journey from
The external world seeking sanctuary
For visions that have been thrown
Dashed against bare brick walls
The ultimate realisation of imaginative
Truth shatters in torment falling sprinkling
To a festering ground proclaiming the
Dominance of emptiness
The conscious ambiguity of betrayal
That deforms corroboration creating
Untruth/ the derangement of qualification
A dialogue with the unknown gives
Birth to fictional facts of unsuitable
Confrontations of displacement
Back to imaginative reality that
Feasts on the trivial the banal
The ordinary and the mundane normal
I take steps into the space others
Fear to occupy become inside
The incantation of a new dimension
An actuality they brand as madness
Yet I am ecstatic in its awareness
This shall be my retribution
For who shall be judged
Ha, illumination is timeless
Has no master they can only
Speculate about the unknown
Its infinity
It is all the imaginations I possess
That shaky bridge between worlds
Where I take my heels my mind
Cannot be redistributed
I have lived through a disturbing night
Now move into an equally disturbing day
It is here I know I will die
Apr 5, 2012
Apr 5, 2012 at 11:33 AM UTC
We walk through the woods.
The wind in our hair.
Childlike.
Almost skipping.
Walking on air.
Kisses of sunshine.
Such delight to be there.
Hands clasped together.
Unity.
Sensing feelings that flow, so electrically charged.
Meeting of eyes.
Greeting of minds.
Cultivating roses of our own making.
Freshly pruned.
Shapely creations.
(C)LIVVI
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 8:46 AM UTC
I see fields of grey metal grass suspended on columns so one can walk underneath
This metal grass is blown by a slight green breeze and sways to and fro
Sharp growing swords, sabre sharp, spike from its gray clay
A blue sun beats down from an electrically charged sky
Now I feel, I must, compelled by the most insatiable of urges
Step into a chaos an exodus
Towards the wastelands of fragmentation and depletion
Where fictions are invented daily and all images change
Where the shadows of life disappear in desperation.
Mar 6, 2012
Mar 6, 2012 at 3:46 PM UTC
it's stupidly sentimental but
I always feel a little sad when
it comes time to
shut the windows
for the year and
turn on the A/C
or the Heat
and start breathing our
electrically-modulated air
I feel as if I've
only just started to
work my way back out
into the world and
I'm not ready
I'm not ready yet to
go back inside
and breathe my own
rotten recycled breath
the breath of my city is
so much more
so much more delightful
so much more invigorating
so much more intoxicating
so much more
than me
I feel slightly lost and
alone when
this life requires that I
wall myself off from that
World breath
to hibernate through
our hot and cold winds
I'm not ready yet
I'm never ready
I'm still trying to find my way
out
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 11:12 AM UTC
Brain root receptors taken hold
electrically charged cannadis synapsis
I smoked with jay, **** followed and road
it went so deep, straight to the core
back to when I couldnt see any more
Too many revolutions in my head
11,000 or so, with many more to go
pHARMicutIcals they ******* HARM U man
Fructose, Aspartame, Floride stain
the weather man is ******* with our brains
Just flush the **** straight down the drain
***** Leaves a resin stain
on the synapsis of the brain
Lubricated, Nurished
with no neurological pain
Dec 18, 2011
Dec 18, 2011 at 6:13 PM UTC
Hurriedly--
everyone on the streets
rush indoors.
Road signs rattle,
loose leaves on trees rustle--
some blow away...
the sky
darkens
and stops...
Cars rush home,
dogs start whimpering,
the air is thick.
the sky
darkens
and stops...
Here I am,
a barefoot stroll
on the warm sidewalk--
my hair twisting and tangled in the breeze
my whole body charging electrically
as the wind walks beside me.
I can't wait 'till I get to the park
near my apartment,
to feel the wet rain-riddled grass
beneath my feet,
tickling
healing...
feeling like myself again.
Jul 1, 2012
Jul 1, 2012 at 8:16 PM UTC
I’ll miss summer mornings on the lake.
Waking before sunrise to rooster-like loon calls.
Sipping coffee as the sky passes black to blue via orange,
the primordial seeming low, silver fog,
the first searing glints of reflected daylight
like bright angels announcing morning.
Jumping in that electrically cold water
and moments later - shivering
in the towel’s warm, comforting embrace
as the fresh day starts to warm.
Aug 17, 2021
Aug 17, 2021 at 6:46 AM UTC
dancing
a body electrically
creating
a mind destroying
the floor
we did once
form a circuit
with that eternal natural return of
ground to sky
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 12:04 AM UTC
Attachment,
A magnetic force,
Snatching away our serenity,
Pulling people closer,
Making a big ball of tranquility,
Of electrically charged group
Of amiable beings.
Amiable,
A quality barely seen,
In a person,
Who doesn't feign,
To be good,
And if you are,
Then you are rare,
A ruby found,
In a millionth moon,
A sweet sound,
In a noisy room,
You are the beauty
That can't be discovered much,
But if found,
You are so delicate,
And if touched,
You won't break but bloom,
Like a touch-me-not.
Break,
Something difficult for you to do,
Except for,
Breaking through,
The chains of difficulties,
Breaking chains,
Soon to become free,
But still we'll be together,
Because we are the branches of the same old tree.
Tree,
Of friendship,
Gets cut,
When it does, it pains,
But the pain soon shuts,
Our breaking hearts,
From aching in vain,
Because we know,
That some day,
Like an unexpected shower of snow,
We'll meet again, as we say,
We'll meet again,
When we finally grow.
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 7:39 AM UTC
Two Christmases ago,
Morning cold hovers in electrons.
Frost covers the Chevrolet
Backed by whiteness
Under zero degree sunlight
The old farm place sees morning
Bright and calm....
The ancient barn,
**** frosted roof agleam,
Stands downhill to the north,
Below a curving tractor trail
Cut in the snow...
At the other end of those tracks,
Eighty-one and counting,
You are crawling down
the tractor steps,
Pulling battered buckets
from the ancient fodder shack,
Hobbling to the cattle troughs...
Doing what you love to do...
Have done for fifty years....
I am taking pictures at the house,
Amazed at the cold and frost;
An onlooker now,
Somehow aware that I can not
Follow you...or won't,
Wistful still for attentions
you always freely gave
To kine instead of kin.
Could I go back,
Would I go down
To trough the feed?
I tell myself I would,
Or I would not.
The image burns coldly,
Electrically before me,
And only vaguely I'm aware
That you have slipped away.
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC
Between the Author
And the Reader,
The Text lies waiting.
The Author,
Only partially aware
Of All Intents and Purposes
In spite of careful diction,
Forms a multi-messaged bolt
To drive full meaning
Home.
The Text,
Scripted in language,
Printed on paper,
Inked in pixels,
Floated in air,
Carries meaning
in a leaking bucket
Denoting and Connoting
Implications only.
The Reader,
Seeking something
Not even realized,
Comes partially engaged,
Intent to dabble
Or to glean
Or find some thought
On which to meditate.
Somehow in this tenuous state
Between mortal thinkers,
Ideas cross synaptic bridges -
Through the air and light,
Tempered by time,
Culture-cured,
Enriched by vocabulary,
Electrically ignited...
Combustion!
Feb 12, 2012
Feb 12, 2012 at 11:18 PM UTC