"retying" poems
I lost my mother
No, not to death
I lost my mother to technology
To social media
To that ******* Facebook
I lost her to the bright rectangular shard of glass that was her phone
There she could reconnect with her friends
See what they were doing
Reunite with long lost childhood buddies
And see cute videos of dogs and babies
I used to love going on dates with my mom
Just the two of us
Most would say we were like sisters
We shared clothes and stories
And life lessons in between
Sips of coffee and slices of cakes
And walks in malls just because we wanted aircon
But now when I'm sitting across her at the table
Her eyes fail to meet mine
If they do all she'd say was wait, I'm replying
Then her eyes would fall back to the screen of her phone
Never-ending conversations became conversations that never even started
Loud chatter above food became silence so loud I could hear myself chew
Laughter and smiles were all the same except they were done looking down, facing a phone
And now I would rather dine alone
Than dine infront of someone glued to their phone
And that says a lot coming from someone with social anxiety and fear of being alone
Because if instead of talking to me your talking to your phone
I really would rather just be alone
I promise you it's not that different
Social media was designed to make us all connected
Countries apart, continents in between
We could talk and call like we were together at that very moment
But now the people were beside
The people we can touch and feel
The people with us physically
We forget to talk to, we ignore
We become disconnected with
Yes, you are retying old ties with your old friends who are miles away
I get that
And I am more than happy for you
That you and your highscool friends talk again
But what's the use of making new ties if you don't keep the ones you have now
I lost my mother to technology
I don't know if it's too late
I know technology won't stop advancing any time soon or any time in the future for that matter
But I have faith
I know beneath my mothers eyes glued to the screen
are the same eyes as the ones that first laid their eyes on me
Who looked at me ever so lovingly,
Like the most precious gift in the world
I lost my mother to technology
And I hope it's not too late to find her again
Jul 18, 2017
Jul 18, 2017 at 6:40 AM UTC
Life flows through the doors,
Dispersed by the ceiling fan,
A makeover for every patron,
The waitress serves a second chance.
Ex-husband but current parent,
Negotiating with a teenage daughter,
Two untouched lunch plates,
As the gap grows further and further.
Central focus being on a book cover,
Held by an E.R nurse still in her scrubs,
The waitress tries to decipher a meaning,
All while wiping leftovers from table tops.
The calender on the wall says Friday,
And in walks a sundress along with a button down,
Two steaks and a red rose,
Right up comes the waitress with a dinner to astound.
Beginnings and ends in motion,
The clock cues for the 40-something man,
In the far corner he sips his black coffee,
Forlorn eyes of a widow staring at a wedding band.
Wiping beads of sweat from her forehead,
Retying her hair into a secured knot,
Exhaustion slowly kicking in,
As she refills the coffee ***
The college girl strolling in with her book bag,
Smiles with pity at her as she gives her order,
She thinks of how her minimum wage must look,
But her love for her job makes her smile never falter.
Days are something treasured,
Every hour, a different movie plays,
She collects all those stories,
With the tip left after the customer pays.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
We live life each and every day
Wond’ring when we’ll come to say
I am not afraid
Spiders, clowns, nightmares
All seem so cruel, unfair,
Not to me
I fear not death
Nor the smell of my breath,
I fear people
Not thoughts or opinions
Or loss of dominion,
But unconsciousness
I fear misinterpretation
And the discrimination
Of my voice
Maybe odd maybe strange
And someday I may change,
But not today.
Call me different-weird
Your words are only smeared,
For I am me.
I am the me that screams
Past all of my dreams,
At my reflection
Nobody else hears it
‘cause I’m scared to admit,
They won’t realize.
I continue to block away
More and more, day after day
And it doesn't help
Growing vulnerable, weaker
Tying, retying my sneaker,
Living with fear another day.
-David Rombouts-
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
SORCERER 1
Fell prince, what can we say? Shall we
Wring fingers, gazing nervously
Into our black, obsidian mirror?
SORCERER 2
Or, in our water jugs, to peer,
Unbinding and retying twine,
In hope epiphanies shall shine?
SORCERER 3
Or shall we three, like puzzling mages,
Cast bright corn-kernels ‘cross the pages
Of scripture, wincing to descry
Some omen there?
SORCERER 1 Or shall we lie?
SORCERER 2
Were not your lethal gaze forbidden,
Our eyes from yours no longer hidden,
SORCERER 3
These mirrors unfilmed to windows-
SORCERER 1 Wink
We not, you might their contents drink.
They look at Motecuhzoma.
TLACAELEL
Bold, brass, and bungling open-sesames,
Whose saucy tongues shall spice my hangman’s stew,
You dare let sink your cataracted gaze
Upon the solar luminance of our king?
Who meets these eyes, beholds the face of death.
MOTECUHZOMA
Shackles shall seal their eyes. Clap them away.
My hopes were stillborn by these blind-man’s bluffs.
SORCERER 1
A grand charade shall come to pass,
As marching mysteries amass,
And urgently these lurkings gather.
SORCERER 2
If that is what your lord had rather
Hear from us, so be it, then.
SORCERER 3
We’ll break our seal and thus unpen
Two breeds of vision we may show:
Oct 23, 2016
Oct 23, 2016 at 1:02 PM UTC
Breaking through the doors
Finding the truth
Once a tight knot
Has now become loose.
Retying the string
Does not make the same knot
I’m breaking through the doors
The lies will never stop.
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
We live life each and every day
Wond'ring when we'll come to say
I am not afraid.
Spiders, clowns, nightmares
All seem so cruel, unfair,
Not to me.
I fear not death
Nor the smell of my breath,
I fear people.
Not thoughts or opinions
Or loss of dominion,
But unconsciousness.
I fear misinterpretation
And the discrimination
Of my voice.
Maybe odd maybe strange
And some day I may change,
But not today.
Call me different-- weird
Your words are only smeared,
For I am me.
I am the me that screams
Past all of my dreams,
At my reflection.
Nobody else hears it
'Cause I am scared to admit,
They won't realize.
I continue to block away
More and more, day after day,
And it doesn't help.
Growing vulnerable, weaker
Tying, retying my sneaker,
Living with fear another day.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
love is not perfect—
love is bending down and retying your shoe laces
over and over and over again
love is not peace—
love is the way screams and broken plates litter the floor
while heated lips crash in a passionate embrace
love is not forever—
love is the infinitesimal space between clasped wrinkled hands
of old lovers who have already seen everything beautiful in the world
love is not pretty—
love is rough
and violent,
testing,
maddening,
but undeniably
beautiful.
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 11:56 AM UTC
it just could be
all I'm sayin is it might be me
you and me
because
once
you agreed with me that if we
could agree
we might settle some confusion
and make some lasting peace.
It could be you and me, in the end,
who had such power
all along.
Don't get me wrong. I'm just sayin'
we could all agree that death
is part of life and nothing
we do in life will help us know f'shore,
but I bet it has no punitive purpose,
life teaches lessons, not death. All's I'm saying,
we could agree but, we
just never considered
this might be our own determined free will
doing some never done deed heroic, like
binding the sweet influences of Pleiades,
or re linking us
to a hope hidden in fear of death,
retying the shades of liberty to our souls.
My side wins when we agree, so
if I surrender my will to thine, freely, see
we win.
Death has no course that led to victory.
Fear of death is the lie that holds men
slave to the market
and to war. Lose the fear, lose the dread.
Aug 24, 2020
Aug 24, 2020 at 4:42 PM UTC
it just could be
all I'm sayin is it might be me, or
you and me
because
once
you agreed with me that if we
could agree
we might settle some confusion
and make some lasting peace.
It could be you and me, in the end,
who had such power
all along.
Don't get me wrong. I'm just sayin'
we could all agree that death
is part of life and nothing
we do in life will help us know f'shore,
but I bet it has no punitive purpose,
life teaches lessons, not death. All's I'm saying,
we could agree but, we
just never considered
this might be our own determined free will
doing some never done deed heroic, like
binding the sweet influences of Pleiades,
or re linking us
to a hope hidden in fear of death,
retying the shades of liberty to our souls.
My side wins when we agree, so
if I surrender my will to thine, freely, see
we win.
Death has no course that led to victory.
Fear of death is the lie that holds men
slave to the market
and to war. Lose the fear, lose the dread.
Mar 26, 2020
Mar 26, 2020 at 3:55 AM UTC