Somewhere

Somehow

I can’t identify when
it changed.

I saw things differently,
my eyes no longer covered
by an opaque way
of thinking.

Sunshine brightened this world
with unimagined colors,
butterflies broke free,
songbirds warbled lovely tunes.

Amidst emerging beauty
words became
every day’s lifeblood;
I found my voice.

All around me,
there was change,
yet everything remained
the same.
For it was me
that changed.
Reborn, rewired.
My heart drummed
a brand new beat.

Driven by transformation,
I wrote. I write.
Adding a dash of color.
Singing harmony
to surrounding melodies.
I am changing.
I am writing.
I am a poet.

I'm reading a step-by-step manual on
how to love yourself again.
'Cause although fundamentals may be philosophy,
Rewiring is all physics baby.
We all need a reason to escape gravity
and plunge ourselves out of orbit.
Self-sacrifice isn't worth ****
if you're wired for it.
To stand on the edge of a tall building and
think of jumping.
Inertia and hysteria.
The magnetic pull of your body to the ground.
To return back to dust.
Loving myself is
a little bit like that.

Parasitic infection, brain overtaken.
When the soul dies, I’ll fully awaken.
Constant conflict, the machine rejects me.
Chemical warfare declared, the mind is not free.
Machines can be rewired to suit the pilot,
Though the changeover can be quite violent.

Trapped within my own head,
The voices within want me dead.
I am infected, weakened and constantly irate.
Barely stable within the chaos that is my mental state.
Anxiety and disconnection from my own existence.
Reality is blurred, I am losing resistance.

Why am I the one, who myself I must fight?
Losing track who am I, am I human or parasite?

Tumblr Post: http://melancholy.website/image/115439203375

Rexie was his name,
I met him on my tumblr page.
He's similar to Ana,
but different in a mental way.
I never worried 'bout my weight,
but still he got ahold of me.
He whispered to me "start counting your calories."
I'd eat less and less,
I loved the feeling that came with it.
I googled 'side effects of starving yourself.'
Euphoria.
That's what came up,
I ignored hair loss, osteoporosis, death.
It's like a drug, that's what he said,
Thats how the addiction began.
Always tired,
Brain rewired,
Kilos dropping,
There's no stopping.
Now the vision of the scale plummeting makes me feel something.
Rexie's always gonna be with me,
Maybe soon I'll realise
His goal is to ****** me.
Until then,
I can say,
Rexie is my best friend.

-T

I am the Lorax, who once spoke for the trees
In the hope of bringing progress to its knees
But now I have grown somewhat older and tired,
My outlook and thought process being rewired
(Sometimes to see forest, you must clear the trees.)

Examine the case of the Brown Bar-ba-loots
Whose interests for so long I worked in cahoots.
Could such timid beasts truly thrive in the wild
So innocent, trusting, submissive, and mild?
(My former assertions I strongly refute.)

Why, see how they frolic and scamper in zoos;
How can one watch them and steadfastly refuse
To see how much better their lot is today
As joy for our children as opposed to prey
(A happy condition where no one can lose.)

Ah, scoff the nihilists, but Truffula Trees,
Those havens for birds and those homes for the bees.
Why, what do you say now that they are all gone,
Removed to make way for some suburban lawn?
(These angry young men—O Lord, take them all please!)

I gently remind them it’s just nature’s way,
That some species go while other ones stay,
The carrier pigeon’s no longer alive
Yet somehow we manage to live—indeed, thrive!
(In the face of brute logic, they’ve little to say.)

So don’t be dismayed or frightened or leery
Of doomsday projections outlined by theory
Suggesting that our time on this earth may be done;
Consider the caged Bar-ba-loot having fun
(And we hear fish do quite well in Lake Erie.)

In the middle of the night he cried-
arms outstretched wide to his father
who was never really there
and the times when he actually was
the liquor stained lips would reply
with an adaptation of his truth-
"**** it up and be a man".
The boy looked at him with hollowed eyes
and a heavy heart and from that day on
carried a burden upon his shoulders
at the life he thought would treat him well.
But it painted dark skies over his sunset
and brought clouds to the sunniest of the days.
He was born in a world where emotion is never okay-
So the chip upon his shoulder turned into a hole
and eventually made it's way into his heart.
That chip now a disease on his insides
his brain rewired to push everything back,
to swallow his hell whole and to hell if he did
because he knew what this life was doing to him.
His insides turned to stone and he held a stone face.
As his father told him the names of all the men
he should look up to and he left any women off the list.
So as the boy grew old he found himself hiding away
his insides and never showing a hint of emotion
because he knew it would let his father down.
Outside he took his fists and misplaced them
upon four walls-
his arms outstretched around little sister's neck.
Society's genetic defect.

Someone once told me-
men are more likely to commit suicide than women
I thought about this for a while-
Women wake up everyday in fear of dark alleys and street corners
Afraid of men with any address begging to undress them-
We can't walk down the street, any street without worry.
We cannot go into the store without fear painted at our feet
We have become afraid of our own shadows.
This life has built resentment upon our shoulders
ever since the wage gap got less and less
and even now we still have work to do.
But we can't forget that society has painted a picture
of us all and they're nothing close to a self-portrait.
They're more like those fat faced comic illustrations
you get at amusement parks and laugh at
because they look nothing like you.
Us women have been taken advantage of for years-
hiding behind car keys in-between our fingers
and pepper spray on our keychains.
Men have had to hide their pain behind fake smiles
and bank accounts that are supposed to make them feel bigger.
When in reality, we all just end up feeling tiny.
We all feel like the edges of our feet are on top
of years and years of misandry and misogyny-
and although the words feminism encompass feminine
all it's really about is total, complete equality-
so now is the time to treat everyone equally.

Every other guy before you,
somewhere between midnight conversations, interrupted by coffee stains and the dreams that woke me up to talk to them, I fell in love.  One listened to history podcasts to fall asleep. One made me skip class so he could drive me two hours out of town and show me the home he grew up in. Another, used to draw my hands on pamphlets hidden under the pews at the back of the church. And each of these things is the seed, sun, and soil for my affection which maybe you understand, because someone does something you respect, admire, and want and all of a sudden, bam, they're so much more than they were before. And with every single person, I realized. I realized I was in love with the presence of their words and the feel of their existence.
But I did not love them.
I met you, and you wrote love stories on my flesh with your finger tips, and I saw your eyes groan with exhaustion in the morning, and you taught me how to be a bigger, better, stronger person. Every day with you feels like a Sunday morning with crisp bedsheets and lazy smiles, and you took me until my life wasn't mine anymore. You took me as a hostage, you got inside my head, piece by piece you disassembled my suit of armor and showed me how to love a person, rawly and deeply and I could never be the same after that. I loved who you are. The way your hands held my hipbones and your lips stole the end of my sentences, when we would drive home from the beach in your car the sunset would be blossoming with love. I don't know what to tell you, other than a giraffes heart ways 22 pounds, and when flies fall in love their entire brain is rewired to only knowing loving each other, and when one dies their memory goes blank. And my loving you was never about what I could get out of it, or what you could make me, but how full I could make you. And if I can't love you as a lover, I will love you as a friend, or however the song goes. But I know what I need in this world, and it's hidden behind your knees and in your hair and sometimes sits between your shoulder blades. And I know sometimes you can't decide if you want to *******, break down and cry, or eat a whole pizza but the entire spectrum of who you are reflects all the pages I could fill with the reasons why you are a spectacular person, Adrian, and you are the one, sealed with a kiss, you are my sun and stars, my stormy night, and you are stained onto my skin like the scar on my knee.

And with my ****** and romantic "experience," that you think I have more of, I promise you no one could fill the space you left. And even though what I gave you and how I loved you might not be what you want, I can also promise you no one will feel like that about you ever again. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing, you decide. And even if I don't have you, I will have every single memory. I will have the drive-in, I will have the row, I will have lying in the grass outside my house, holding you. And I will never forget what you made me.

as the gray scale pictures appeared
i saw you bring yourself near
and the blackness so well hid your face
even with the red lights filling the space
you were in the back corner i was across the way
making masterpieces after every mundane day
with my hair in a braid clipped up on my head
and your hands in your pockets when you scared me to death
all those photos of yours, like the trigger of a gun
i held my arms wide and smiled with the sun

now you wont even hold my blank canvas eyes
and yours smile to me on the stairs every time
but you wont say a word nor make a sound
you won't even blink while my soul hits the ground
i guess all the chemicals made me insane
and my dream didn't help, you pressed to my face
in a blue plaid shirt, i see you across the room
i guess i was the only one to feel the fumes
but somehow i know that's not true

there were the days of just you and i
and the world around us-where are the lights?
i remember awaiting my pride to take form
and trying too hard and feeling so torn
and holding so tightly to the print you made
for no real reason besides the look you gave
showing off to you for no purpose at all
i know it meant nothing, just a cushioned fall

now you wont even hold my blank canvas eyes
you know yours strung me in a web of lies
you walk away when my skeleton comes around
do you see this smile? it's sinking to the ground
i guess all the negatives inverted my view
and this nightmare rewired the image of you
in a blue plaid shirt, you wore it yesterday
i guess i was the only one to see it that way
but somehow i wanted it to fade

how could you look in my eyes
and know about the scars i despise
how could you see into my heart
when i never saw you coming from the start
how could you sever that broken touch
without even asking me what i want

but today you looked into these blank canvas eyes
and yours, hidden by glass, were the first to shine
and you quoted a movie and laughed with me
and pulled me towards you, my smile you didn't see
i guess your arms are strong as the walls
the hidden room that was home to it all
in a blue plaid shirt, i see you across the room
but i still won't admit that i felt those fumes
even though you know the sad truth

I woke up one day
(it wasn't just one day but many of them)
And I looked in the mirror
and it wasn't me!
I could not recognize a thing...
best feeling in years

I could not match
what I am with who I was
I've been rewired from scratch
A new-old me shines
I've been altered - I hope it's for life

Who I was meant to be
away from all that I used to be
phobia, fear
breaking down, scream

And who am I to blame
for this dramatic change?
Was it pills, was it me, was it fate?

It wasn't the girl that I had been
the feelings and actions I had seen
all that I had came to be...
drifting away to darker roads
I have been reborn
maybe I have to thank God

The pink around me swallowed me whole
Everything was pink! Coloring my bones
Everything was in order - but all of my own
The water started boiling - after years in full stop
Maybe a lifetime, I could not tell - it was so long

And now I cry - and now I shake
and now I ache - but I am not the same
I am the wooden girl, the alien
made human -saved- by whose hand?
Her own spell

Curled up in the passenger side, my moccasins rested on the edge of the seat.
Projecting heat pleaded the piercing winter from under my skin.
My chin fell slowly as ash insulated my heart.
My lips would part as second-hand soothing soot
Grew arms and cradled my soul like the look
A newborn baby receives when wrapped in adoration.
A suffocation as an indication I was not alone.

Strangers. Soaring together for forty-eight hours.
Oblivious to dangers our adolescent wings never noticed.
Our only focus was on each other.
At first, words of conversation refused to be discovered.
But all at once we slowly uttered
Our pasts until his demons appeared in front of me.
Surprised I could still see through the windshield ahead,
I did not dread the broken being to my left.
Because who was I to judge the stranger
Who’d unknowingly love me as if his life depended on it?

Have you ever been in love with a Thunderbird?
One that flies solely in winter blizzards?
Fueled by chain-smoking cigarettes
And Dunkin Donut cappuccinos with five sugars.
It never once regarded the threat
Of driving through life
At ninety-five miles per hour.

I fell in love at six in the morning, wearing a borrowed jacket.
Coated in sleep’s drowsiness, we floated on clouds,
Dodging white paper coral trees and buried houses.

I fell in love when the world stood still
And the snow descended along with our sanity.
Somehow a Thunderbird granted me amnesty from myself.
As humanity remained asleep, with stealth
We drifted through back roads in horrific elegance
That jostled my brain until my mind was rewired to my heart
And has remained that way since.

Snowflakes from sleepy land land on my eye lids
creeping in and on and out and over I'm melatonin silenced,
feeling serenity,
I'm supposed to be writing
but "actually I'm not regretting it"
Dreams are inviting me like I've been spiked with ketamine
Should I let them in?
I love sleep too much
So I didn't make it to bed again

It's not a want,
It's a need a necessity,
It's something I need to achieve what is best in me
So if you're waking me bring bacon
I won't just be ******* your life is forsaken,
Especially if I was dreaming about flying like a plane again....

I like a snatched sleep on the bus or the train,
But I love the car no risk of sleeping too far
and waking up in staines

One time I fell asleep on the train...
I was stuck on it for ages...
One outside tesco where your supposed to put 20p and a baby in it
Seems to be happening alot to me lately
But I have always falling asleep in public places
One time my mom thought she'd lost me,
I was asleep on a the sofa in Laura Ashley
"Dear, where's your mommy? The shop assistant asked me
I didn't know and I didn't care all I wanted was to go to sleep
Strange memories rethunk,
Relayered and rewired
twisting and turning until they become suffering,
time for bed again, I'm tired.

After all the wrong people faded away he could now focus so many distractions. He wanted to help those he loved he had their back but when he needed them they were no where to be found. He would help them but if he asked for a favor they act like he wronged them like he never did anything for them. He would babysit and they didn't pay him or the kid to school not asking for money or gas money. He struggled to find work but rather then help him they pointed their noses up and looked down on him made him feel worthless like he didn't matter. He eventually became employed and it kept him humble he knew what it was like to be broke and never looked down on anyone.
He's blessed and thankful for all these obstacles he overcame. He remembers his own family saying not to associate with him that's why he doesn't judge or treat anyone different but if you are rude or mistreat him. He stays away avoiding confrontation, he's not the fighting type even though some needed a beating plus to be taught manners.
He is thankful and Appreciate the people who are thankful and make him feel his good deeds don't go unnoticed his efforts not expecting anything in return but giving his all. He takes pride in his work and all he does. He does what's right and what needs to be done. Now a days others leave it for the next guy. Why not be the guy who gets it done and makes it happen. He lost his job he was sad missed it but it was for the better. He gave his all even if it wasn't good enough. He tried more than most. He found another job that pays better and they treat him like he matters. He feels more accomplished rather than being set up to fail.
It took time but his life did get better doing what he loves even though most don't understand or get his way that's because it's for him and not them.
Lost friends but did gain back self respect and did learn to use his voice to say what he wants and looking around for opportunities instead of seeing hurtles and detours roadblock. He knew hard work would get him there he started so much now it was time for him to finish them.

You and I were introduced as the wheels left the ground
And we angled towards the heavens.
Hundreds of miles per hour,
South bound, towards the Florida Keys
And you mentioned the  unusual serenity
That lies at forty thousand feet.
I memorized a trusting face while turbulence
Interrupted our peaceful flight
And you found your first opportunity
As you played in on my fear of heights.
You ended up following me, something I never expected
And like an unwelcome pest,
Like a moth or a spider,
You took up residency in the cold dark corners I neglected.
You so intricately spun your web of lies outside my home
And when you introduced your bait,
You let it dangle above my doorframe,
And I didn't hesitate.
I sunk my teeth into your tragedy and you wove me in
Leaving me tangled in the silk you manufactured,
All along that's how I let you win.
I let you tear open my stitched up wounds
And peel back my flesh and expose my interior
I let you examine how my brain functions during REM sleep
I let you study my neurological system,
And I gave you a private screening of my dreams.
While I was busy over analyzing your past
You were rerouting my neurons
And creating malfunctions within the synapse.
You rewired my entire nervous system
While I let you research the functions of my cells.
You're nothing more than the insects and the pests
With too many legs that crawl along my cellar walls.
Like a daddy long leg spider, I never saw you as a threat
Until you tangled me in false intentions
And left me for dead.
I learned the daddy long leg spider
Has a poisonous venom, lethal if injected
But it was cursed with a mouth and teeth too small
To leave any human the slightest bit affected.
But I was the one who allowed you
To shrink me down and make us the same
So your tiny teeth could penetrate my skin
And leave venom in my veins.
And it was only in that moment, finally standing eye to eye
That I noticed the lack of conscience in your irises
For the first time in my life.

They straightened my exhausted spine
with gentle hands,
I stood up strong
for the first time.
They picked my dark eyes
out of my rotting skull
and flipped them right side up,
I saw beauty
for the first time.
They drew *****
blood from my cold veins
& replaced it with
the warm crimson of a rose,
I felt love
for the first time.
They rewired the
mess of broken thoughts
in my aching head,
*I was okay
for the first time.

Torn in two, stripped to the bone, head's rewired, thoughts removed.

Your flex in a reflex, reactions to action, she preached in the precinct whilst craving creation.

A submariner survives in daytight compartments, his thoughts become deeper, she prays for his relief.

Hermetically altered the gold-dust is spinkled, as the fish keep on swimming blue in the reef.

Broken down, and beaten... this egg's cracked in two.  Reborn in an instant, cappuccino's still new.

Sit by the fire.
Drink with your friends.
Forget about the fact that you're a liar.
Maybe someday they'll know.
You can't help but admire
The faces who sit beside you.
You get teary thinking about when they expire.
But they can't see that.
They can't see your brain becoming rewired

Never whole
since in this hole
I fell
A bottomless well
and since time started here
(when all of time stopped)
this spell
I’m under
makes me not well

The company
I’m in
a grin
One who spins
A tale to weave
of make believe
These items to sell
Story he tells

My brain
set on fire
from his grinning
Cheshire
The maniacal laughter
and madness
inspired
I’m tired
I’m mired
Situation is dire

Without choice
he is hired
All thoughts are rewired
Has risen to “Sire”
This liar and thief
Plays *****
and cheats
I’m beat
can not win
Left to stare at that grin

The joy you provided me
transports me to
floating fossils,
swollen tonsils,
and hearing aids
that kept you within an ear's length.

I remember water;
I remember the way that making blood colder
was an antidote to growing older.

When you grew old,
I recognized that sandpaper shows
beauty in rigidity,
and even the tough

show fragility.

Taste buds and rewired pathways
helped write the book,
but nothing will ever parallel
the compensation,
softness and
comfort
that sandpaper provided my skin.

when I disclaim that
there be no poem today
I suggest you
put me in the dock,
hit the chess clock,
to time the length
tween my lies
sit me down in
the witness stand,
to better see
the holes in me,
from which word seepage,
grey matter leakage,
blackened white slush mush,
covers my face and hands,
and with fingers splayed
in the V
of a Spock like Cohenic blessing,
I make

my beginning and ending
Commencement Speech,
a recitation of incantations,
an eye on the pyramid inspiration  
of cockeyed cantorial hymnations

Like this:

there is only one Godhead
that the spirits that allow me
breathing space in this world
and the one yet to come,
demand of me, worship -
It would be at the altar
of momentary fears
that clarify the whole,
the unifying principle,
that my blinded eyes,
my Pharaoh hardened heart,
my closed and deafened ears
see, soften and hear and believe!

I am slave to the
Gods of Poetry,
their truth, my lies,
stirred in one ***,
and as I live and breathe
I am rewired
with a new poem every day,
an addict who cannot obey,
who cannot afford to pay
the judicial costs
of the cease and desist order
of his own common sense

Jan 2, 2011 10:05 AM

i know how many smiles
must be shining over at that house
(good god, yours better be one of them. it's a perfect smile.)
while i sit here singing pop punk and indie songs
to myself, wrapped up in a blanket that still has your scent to it, and imagining
that you would harmonize these words with me
and you'd sit on my floor
churning out random chords on my guitar that you said was
"perfect for indie music."
i haven't eaten a ******* thing in six hours
or so and i don't intend to
because i'm getting that rush again and my brain might be
rolling to a stop on the treacherous slopes of my anxiety and
the silence of my house that is its breeding ground.
i believe that we are something astounding
and inside these rewired bones of mine, i feel
that you and i could do anything
so long as we had one another
but you're five minutes north of here
as you should be, giving thanks with a family that loves you
(i know they're overbearing, darling, but they only care for you and want the best for you.)
(and i love them too)
and isn't broken apart,
forgetting about the sad 18-year old's existence,
or dead and gone,
like mine.

i am a white empty room and there is no 2 o'clock august light shining through my window.
i think it skipped me because it thought no one was home.
i say i live in a house with too many rooms.
and that things are not supposed to love you.
i want everything to happen to me as it happens.
i am 11:12 pm.
i don't really know much, but once i heard that your fist is roughly the size of your heart
and when flies fall in love their brain is rewired to know only loving each other
and when one of them dies the others brain goes blank so maybe, i'm a fly.
i was born in the year of the ox, the month of the bull, and the body of a white rose.
ripped from my home, and given to someone who does not love me.

What was once water, now ice,
         Fall has begun to winter-over,
          Crackles and breaks, sections slice
        Grass green-brown but no clover,
What was once warmer, now bites,
into flesh,
into light clothing,
have no fear or loathing,
never heinous or aimless
looking for the creche,
for what is not worthless,
is priceless,
not painless,
but with difficulty
admit it, found faulty,
forgiven,
rewired,
good liven,
inspired,
stay warm people as the shroud of the Arctic, glides down like the temperature falling,
don't turn a deaf ear, share of your surplus and good cheer, do you hear, the street calling,
                                                        ­                                        do you hear, in the sprawling,
of anycity, voices of those who, the cold is told to show no mercy, so be kind... as outside in winter ********************­********
                                                                ­                                                          is appalling.


©DWE122013

he slipped his fingers
through the crack in the door
looked around
behind his shoulder
he shifted his eyes side to side
someone should have told him
they noticed
he brought his knee up
to his chin
or his chin down to his knee
and with that, cracked the door
and slipped out
locking the door behind him he thought he locked his mind
the warmth still pulsed behind him
and he heard the baby cry
his ******* lingered behind
him on the ****
come on, come on
my man
come on

he was taught to keep his eyes wide open
never narrow his glance for that which he might miss
and for that he lived a fallacy with that woman
he lived just for her breath
until his own paled in comparison
people lie when they say he left because of the times
that he is a summation of statistic
because he left for what he was taught
a gross misunderstanding
of generations
of disfigured parables
which left him rewired and not suited
for this life or any life
poor husk

but his fingers fell away from the ****
and he ran
so far that the world wept
his feet bloodied
when people asked where he was from
there were moments of clearness and he felt
his time was not wasted
but it was impossible to know it
he could see things like no one else
and it was his job to write them down
and so he did
until his fingers crumbled

time got by
time got in the way
shoved down his throat
he gurgled and spit up his shame
it burned a hole in his belly
until he could stomach it no more
and
threw up a map
he stared at its edges in his calloused hands
and he knew the place, his next destination
he followed it back
a path which burned with every retraced step
and the world wept
but this time for a different reason
his ******* found the familiar ****
he looked around
behind his shoulder
he shifted his eyes from side to side
slipped his fingers through the crack and stepped inside
someone should have told him
they noticed

he's staring at the bottom of a boot
he can feel his lower teeth
stuck through his lip and
he wants to cry out
my baby boy
he lowered his head and
for the first time felt what he had done

No poems care to comfort me
No words are willing to clear my head
No thoughts come flowing from my pen
No dreams will deign to share my bed

I used to sleep with company
To doze with dainty desires
But now it seems my mind rejects
Those floating, smiling sires
Instead my head’s been filled with fluff
With engineered tomfoolery
No longer can I find my thoughts
Amidst this heavy schoolery

My florid fancies and swooning sighs
Have decomposed under scrutiny
And inspiration has been so choked
That is has no will for mutiny

I’ve calculated, demonstrated
Extrapolated and oxidized
So now I’ve found that feelings too
Have fallen overanalyzed
It feels surreal, to sit with you
While my mind sits far away
The distance slows my synapses
And causes heart delay

Thoughts, I’ve found, have been rewired
Connected where they shouldn’t be
So silly things cause tears to spring
And trivial words to bother me

I wish my poems would return
To put my mind where it belongs
To weave my dreams so I might sleep
To erase for you my careless wrongs
I wish my words would scamper back
And put my tangled thoughts to rights
My feelings, too, so I might breathe
And finally make peace with restless nights

Did your body not warn you
before you were wrung dry?

The day you found yourself depleted,
the nights that lead upto it became fragile,
your cell heavy as they were heaved onto the bed.

Did you not listen to your body,
when you woke up with a heavy chest
and your body begged you to sleep?

Did you not acknowledge your heart
when it had become
a black hole the night before
as it ****** you out in.
Your bones like gravestones
prominent among the barren skin.

Did the suffocating dark matter
not ring louder
as you gasped for air with burnt lungs.

When you stood there overworked,
with signals mixed and sensitive
rewired and tangled
did the response fit their norm of you?

Did your voice not thud,
with the lump in your throat?
Did your heart not pound
against your ribcage,
your stomach not curdle
with that war in your chest,
as your mind raced
and your chest pressured as you tried
to clutch that breath?

Did your hormones
not muddle with your thoughts?
Did they not drown them in depths
and set them on fire all at once?
Did it not ache your muscles
before it all turned red?

Did your body not scream
when they came near?
Your feet cemented,
as your body froze?
Did your gut not twist
till you felt nauseous?

Did your toes not curl
when the feeling sunk
through your spine,
sat in your bones
like an unwanted guest,
and you like an unwilling host?

Did you not feel the chill
shiver down your spine
as terror spread across your face
and painted it white
before the quake came?

Did you not acknowledge
your body is the vessel
that you kept giving and pushing
depleting it of the right to rest
rather than opening
it to the abundance of love
it was surrounded by.

Your body became over extended,
your mind became forgetful
a body that is now a red flag;
travesty.

(Hive Wired)

As wires round the world get lighter and thinner
the autoscroll feeds you fourty-nine homicides
from desktops at noon to plasma at dinner
the auto-cue commits sixty-five more crimes.

Mad and red in the face, you picture yourself
pace by pace, walking the span of the kitchen
but the network fail to mention the other seven billion
who kept living their life devoid of such sinning.

Typhoonous winds and hurricane fever
head out the window, yell for your kingdom,
yell so we hear you ’til you’re hoarse and unkempt.
yell 'til your sad old neighbour get’s hell bent.

Step back to the desk and slam on your keyboard
tell all that you know that there’s more to life
than watching the ’strife of idiocy’ part two thousand
and something, there’s more to this world

than serving a system; there’s more to a system
than the buds at the top, the roots don’t need trimming
the buds must be stopped from dying and rotting
and killing the crop. Still glum? Relax in your favourite shop!

With a roof overhead and your screen polished down
forget the anger, the strife, and fantasist who yelled.
tip-tap the day away, earn and pay away that frown
forget how lonely you are and buy some new health.

Tip-tap-a-tip-tap-a-tip-tap away the evening and next day
Now you live vicariously through social media
you cannot stop networking, lonelier… lonelier.
Connections you make get quicker, and quicker.

You pick and you carve a residual image.
‘Life is the greatest’ on appearance
the best fools fool themselves, it’s addictive
post after post you build up a rhythm.

Second life, third face, prosodical features:
hive mind rewired you’re speechlessly grinning
Staring at screens you’re now silent at dinner,
your diary entries get sparser and sparser

you forget appearances are a farcical demeanour
sixth chord diminutive, false life fever: your square
-eyed and ill groomed head sits on a hunchback miser,
the hive mind keeps ticking you keep getting wiser.

As wires round the world get lighter and thinner
Your news scroll feeds you various homicides,
From desktops at noon to plasma at dinner,
The auto-cue scrolls through this week’s most viral.

The network fail to mention the other seven billion
Who kept living their life devoid of such sinning.
Disquiet on your perch, picture your pleasure:
Hopping alone, around your enclosure.

The window slides up, wind ruffles your feathers.
Beak to the bars, you're helplessly tethered.
Yell 'til you're heard, ’til you’re hoarse and unkempt,
Yell 'til the neighbours are mad and hell bent.

Step back to your pedestal, tapping your feet,
The rhythm you summon traverses the streets.
Nearby inhabitants sit watching their screens,
Warn-out, occupied, unfulfilling their dreams.

Tip-tap-a-tip-tap-a-tip-tap away the evening and next day.
Now you live vicariously through social media,
You cannot stop tweeting, lonelier… lonelier.
Connections you make get quicker and quicker.

‘Life is the greatest’ upon appearances,
You pick and you carve a residual image;
The best fools fool themselves into submission,
Post exponentially, build on your rhythm;

Second life, third face, prosodic yet speechless,
Your diary now echoes, empty and featureless.
Stare at your screen, silent and grinning;
Hive mind rewired, this story needs spinning.

Forget losing face, that farcical demeanour.
The needle wobbles on your false life fever,
As sunlight exposes where your cage is broken,
The tether is loose but you're past noticing.

Shared knowledge free of charge, constantly flowing,
Ignore others' viewpoints, or pleas to come in.
The glass in the window is brilliantly glowing,
There's fire outside that your posts have been stoking.

White noise, connection lost, you're no longer hosting
That multi-channel, fibre-optic, bandwidth expansion.
Untether your Ethernet, the cage disappears
Find sanctuary outdoors when quiet is near.

The caged bird tweets devoid of all reason,
Fooling itself about its own lack of freedom.

It stuck in my throat like glue
the first time that I said it back to you.
It buzzed like cables being rewired
crackled air as if a gunshot had been fired.
My gut swirled acidic. What comes next?
What promises might settle in the subtext?
What does it take for me to say it, too?
Thaw out my heart and cry out, "I love you."
You see, the problem is...I already do
but I fear someday that I'll be breaking you

just moments before your love can break me through.

i think i made you up in my sleep
the way you weave in and out so inconsistently
of my life with your broken promises
you left me
alone;
a single word that can drive a man to madness
alone:
what drove me to madness
yet, one day i didn't feel--
alone
i restitched the seams in my wrists
i rewound my brain
and i rewired my heart
some days i can almost feel
and your memories bring bliss
i'm no longer
alone
yet i haven't overcome the
loneliness