"headsets" poems
Distance has a particular way of hurting:
It begins slowly, and is self-contained.
Because our mothers would often speak about Love,
and how everything falls helpless in Love,
Distance becomes a housebroken dog.
It is powerless, and whilst I love, I am powerful.
On Sunday, our fathers would teach us to put our faith in things unseen,
and so we grow confident and complacent.
Just when you think you’ve understood it,
It sinks its teeth in hard and deep.
An idealist tries to make it out light and easy
They will often write poems about finding
ideal love in the real world.
But I will write about knowing
real love misplaced in an ideal world.
It’s a world where comfort could come in binary files
filled with digital empathy and memories.
Where typed words and numbers that form
black and white promises could replace
the real and organic voice of reassurance.
Where wires between my webcams and your headsets
could entangle themselves in ways our fingers
used to be intertwined.
Where waiting for an email meant as much as
waiting for you to return home to me.
Where the strategic positioning of your punctuation marks
could transform these passive symbols
into active symbols of love and concern:
A comma, like a shared pause for when our eyes meet
Exclamation marks for when we wave to each other from across the street,
or as a passionate gesture from underneath these sheets.
A question mark for when you’re sick and I am by your bed
Worried, because you wouldn’t eat.
A semicolon for when we argue,
and a full stop for when we finally give in.
A parenthesis for containing moments of vulnerability
that only seem to leak out late at night.
You won’t know it but,
I dream mostly of an online conversation,
filled with time stamps that affirm your presence.
If I’m lucky, I will find an ellipsis
Small creatures of continuity with
heads heavy with hesitation.
…
And - if I’m really lucky,
I’d undo those black buttons of suspense
and see you once more.
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC
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http://sevenpanda.com
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 4:02 AM UTC
Someone’s world jumped
onto a cold set of tracks
at Jamaica station
early last week.
Someone’s world jumped
into the universe next door,
leaving us all for
being too human.
At the time,
I was trapped at Penn Station.
A pain spread
about my stomach
like a pen pressed against
a sheet of looseleaf.
MTA officials made announcements,
calling it a mechanical malfunction.
9 to 5 businessmen in
deep black suits with bluetooth headsets
groaned and bargained
for passage home,
ready to ride
through a stranger's graveyard.
Little kids ran through shops,
fingers sticky with frozen yogurt
and popcorn- surprise treats
used as pacifiers.
I sat in a well known coffee shop
pondering life and death.
The word suicide didn’t hurt
like it used to, but I felt
connected to this stranger.
I thought about
that person’s lover,
that person’s sister,
that person’s mother,
that person’s friend.
I thought about how
all of their galaxies stirred and switched gears.
A planet of theirs- tremendous or trifling in their own imagination-
collapsed and changed the course of everything.
I wondered if their galaxy halted and
each star and planet mourned or
if their galaxy smoothed over the craters
and dodged all the meteors and
didn’t even blink.
My galaxy shifted and
clouds laid thick.
Stars dimmed their lights in harmony.
A few years ago
or even a few months ago,
I would’ve cried
and thought
about following this
stranger to train station heaven.
But now,
I thought about
my sister’s galaxy,
my mother’s galaxy,
my best friend’s galaxy.
Now,
I felt sadness
but I also felt love.
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 11:47 PM UTC
*Remind me what it feels like to loose my mind in a heartbeat,
Remind me everyday what it stings me not to say
Remind me right now, before everything fades away...
Remind me that you still might be there if i need you someday.
Remind me of the sunsets,
Remind of the headsets,
Remind me of the necklace
and all the simple set backs.
Remind me of the progress, that never was enough,
Remind me of the success, never the lack of trust.
Remind me of the weight you held, before all was broken down,
Remind me of how lost I was, spread hope that I may be found....
Remind me of the days I threw away the crown...
Remind me why i stay awake, when my eyes still want to drown.*
Jul 22, 2011
Jul 22, 2011 at 3:47 PM UTC
We risk our lives everyday
every time that we clock in,
it's our way of life and what we do
its the way it's always been.
We wake at 3 am to bells ringing
and sirens blare,
we leap to our feet and go get dressed
to fight deep in Hells lair.
In the darkness we don our gear
Strap on helmet and boot,
as one these brothers all get up
go sliding down the chute.
We run to the truck now wide awake
and with ease we slide in,
we put on our headsets to hear each other all other noise becomes a low din.
We race to the scene where smoke is showing
no one knows who got out,
we put on our airpacks and our masks
to talk we must now shout.
With axe in hand we enter therein
the Devils home amidst the flame,
we quickly search for everyone
boy, girl, man and dame.
The air is hot we can feel it through
the clothe armor that we wear,
but on we search through the building
till we realize we're low on air.
Another crew goes in
In their hands the hose
To find the seat of the flames
It's advancement to oppose
We cut the roof we pull the ceiling
Our hands and feet lose all feeling
We find a child we cover them up
We rush back to the door
We bring them to safety and go back in
To check and search for more
For hours the cycle repeats
Till all is said and done
The fire is out, we've done our job
This time we won
No fire is left and all are safe
We put our tools and hose away
And go back to the station
Where hopefully we'll get to stay
Our gears been scrubbed
Time to rest our exhausted bodies
We wake at 8 am to bells ringing
and sirens blare,
we leap to our feet and go get dressed
to fight deep in Hells lair...
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 10:32 PM UTC
*The cold plays a simple symphony
A perfect season for cuddly jackets and woolly gloves
Skin tight jeans and knee high boots
And knitted scarfs made from tender careful hands
Light weight make up that stays in tact
Kissable lips always stay perfect
A warm cup of coffee in hand
Music playing through headsets
Sights caught in between the falling snow
Brown hues whispering cheerful greetings
An embrace of warmth from body heat
Hearing that familiar heartbeat*
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 10:47 AM UTC
“I have a question.”
“Why is it that the more connected we are, the less connection we have for each other?”
“I...don’t really know.”
“Maybe....because they value phones and social media more than people?”
“I don’t know”
“Or....maybe they place their identity on them too.”
“I Guess.”
“I don’t really know.”
“What If.....the people in this world don’t actually know the ‘friends’ they are sitting beside in during recess or while hanging out.”
“Maybe....i mean, isn’t hanging out supposed to be about spending time with each other, directly, and not i guess, with their phones, or through their phones...is it?”
“I fear about the future.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, what if my children, or other people’s children...”
“Basically the next generation,”
“Ye, the next generation wont actually know what actual friends are, like being trapped in mechanical boxes with those weird things on...what is it called? Oh right, VR headsets. And then they live in those boxes.”
“I don’t know....”
“I just want people to talk to each other, WITHOUT their heads down on the phone and eyes glued to the screen....like the kampong days...”
“Maybe...”
Maybe......
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 2:18 AM UTC
a flurry of gold leaves
sails past
whirling into
and then out of
the sunlight streaming
between the buildings
everyone is in a hurry
eyes fixed on phones
headsets on
no one talking
only wind sound
and the dry scrape
and tumble of autumn
skittering down the curb
Tom Spencer © 2018
Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 7:03 AM UTC
As a kid going to Private School
We learned many things being numerous source tools
We would often take field trips to various places
Each had its own individual spaces
One particular event was the United Nations
It was known with communicating with and establishing that with the world
We journeyed in what makes the United Nations in what it is
We had a Tour Guide from India who told us about the UN
Then our tour really started to begin
We entered an auditorium behind a sturdy glass
It was made to muffle the sound of silence much like a mask
We were at a General Assembly with a headset and Interpreter who spoke
As a kid, we learned that the UN was a serious business and no joke
Well things started to heat up with strong intense verbal use
It was becoming more like personal country abuse
Countries upon countries telling each other off
You could say defining with no meaning
The Interpreter literally stopped translating
Because we were 12 years old, Security demanded that we take off the headsets immediately
Later we headed for our school bus and journeyed back to our destination
It’s amazing how things are done all with a little persuasion
The United Nations with its own special blend, and my story that has come to a complete end.
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
They use it to drag another into each others orbits .. I sea green resisting I forfeit . Music they use it to make me feel at home and belonging while I'm longing for where am going . Music they use it to make dirt sound beautiful , **** looks incredeble , music they use it till I sea those in death invincible , music they use it me on my headsets laying watching the son set listening to music contemplating on bracelets that are diging a place for my cusket .music they use it for you to loose the son orbit to the cubic orbit.
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
There are certain things
That are constant
At every truck stop:
The **** bottles,
never far from the trash cans
The diesel rivers,
perfuming the air like iridescent, poisoned flowers
The old men,
casting their eyes down as they walk
The idling engines,
singing lullabies to those in "sleeper"
The dog,
whining, waiting, or watching
The cat,
pretending not to care at all
The noisy reefers,
The bluetooth headsets,
The IFTA stickers,
The overpriced everything
And for me,
The hope that it will all go away
Jun 7, 2019
Jun 7, 2019 at 7:08 PM UTC
silence
Silence is the most important thing
It's what renders headphones
and earbuds
and headsets one of the
greatest
inventions of the modern world
The ability to enjoy entertainment
without disturbing those
around you
Silence
It's important to know this about it
cuz unfortunately some of
the lessons
about the importance
of silence
are taught by the most
extreme teachers
Myself and a friend of mine had been
taught the lesson by such a teacher
We were twelve and thirteen
and he got a new gaming console for
his birthday and we spoke with another
friend to lend us a cool game,
some shooter
I stayed over the night
and we started playing
and the TV was quite loud
The game was fun
We were loud
and there were bangs and explosions
and guns firing and screams and flashes
and suddenly
the door of the bathroom bangs
open with a kick and my friend's
grandfather storms into the room
with froth about his bleached lips and
he grabs my friend's arm and
pins him to the ground and holds him there
as he looks around the room with crazed eyes,
more scared than both my friend and I
I think what's worse
is that the old man was previously
on the toilet
using it
and he got up without wiping
or washing his hands
and came into our room like that
My friend's father came when he heard
the commotion and
dragged the old man away
and left us mute
and shaken
we didn't say a word until he
came back a few seconds later
and lectured us about PTSD
but I guess the real moral of the
story is that silence is important
and headphones are really one of
humanity's greatest inventions
Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 6:57 AM UTC