"rewiring" poems
Your electricity flows out of your fingertips shocking me
and making me feel energy in places I didn't know it could reside.
Lightning jump starts my heart and sends a current through my body, accelerating my breathing and fueling my desires.
Impulses fire in my brain rewiring my thoughts
and I can only compare it to crawling in to bed with the thought of Christmas morning in the middle of June.
Your fingers send jolts through my nerve endings and power surges through my hair, making it stand on end.
They feel like cigarette burns on bare flesh and I can't help but cringe at how much I enjoy it.
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 10:48 AM UTC
First date just ended
and quickly after I left
as the headache set in
barely catching my breath
it feeds off my feelings
I can feel it creeping its way in
A case of the lovebug
Has got me again
Coughing up sweet words
Going faint from the comfort
This is how it always begins
It stole all of my thoughts
And gently erased them
Sweetly crawling around in my brain
Rearranging, rewiring, they all work the same
I was too doped up to realize
That this case is so serious, my sanity died
And now it’s too late
All I can think about
Is your hand in mine
Your face
Your eyes
****** delusions and lies
And still I’m rather quite hopeless
Desperate, caught in the moment
Helpless to stop it
But why would I want to?
Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
To the boy who broke my heart.
Thank you.
Because you have given me something so much more sweet.
The way her eyes reflect my ear to ear smile as we joke about
Our futures.
Who we want to be when we grow up
And who we don’t.
The way she can always make me laugh harder than you ever could,
My stomach sore.
But not from the skipped meals you forced me into.
Because I was never beautiful enough for you.
The way my parents confuse my heterosexuality for homosexuality
Because my “love poems” are always about her.
The girl
Who knows my soul like the back of her hand
My darkest secrets.
My biggest flaws.
And she doesn’t use it against me.
Romantic feelings are not the key to life I always guessed they were
when you have found the person who can make your life worth living.
Your best friend.
The one who kissed the reflection of you engraved in my wrist.
And no I will never be gay.
But I love her.
She always knows what I need to hear.
When I look like I have never looked in a mirror she still udders the word beautiful
And knowing that I will never believe it she still tries.
She is just as stubborn as I am,
And she has dedicated countless hours to repairing me,
The job you always said you’d take in the first place.
Telling me that the most broken are the most beautiful.
And I know that is true,
Because she is broken just as much as I am.
She has put her problems aside for me,
Spent countless hours rewiring the desire to go back to you.
And now I cannot help but realize that I deserve better.
To the boy who broke my heart I am happy now.
I am enjoying the small things for the very first time.
As we go camping and I show her the best way to light a fire,
And she does my makeup to where for a moment I feel I am beautiful.
The Monsters cracked after we have stayed up for an exam,
The late night conversations that are always the ones most memorable.
These are the best moments of my life,
And they weren’t shared with you.
To the boy who first broke my heart.
Thank you.
But gratitude is not forgiveness, and I would not advise coming near me again.
Because she has had a target on your head since the very first tear.
And I know that even when you’re gone she will always have my back
Because that is what true friends do.
To the girl who has made my life complete –
I adore you.
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 10:29 AM UTC
@_cyber
@_punk
headset not
clear enough. can't receive circuitry
rewiring veins back to my
internal mainframe in which two
magnets start to spew out
dystopian propaganda. neon motorcycles
that can turn at any corner
dash through the streets.
concept? oh no
@_end
@_function
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 8:48 AM UTC
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.
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 6:45 PM UTC
We hadn't spoken
Too much had been left unsaid
Now silence sits there
Collecting the dust
Like one of your projects
Waiting to be fixed
Never forgotten
But not cared for as it was
Left 'till much too late
You left suddenly
A quick fix out the back door
Me left unfinished
Still,
I'll remember you
As I choose to- the Tinker
Everything just so
You'd sit at your bench
Stripping the wood of varnish
Bringing out beauty
Polish here, dust there
Every detail adjusted
Perfection strived for
Now that you are gone
Your antiques your legacy
I'll remember you
For the good in you
And I will try to forgive
you the dark hours
I will have to start
Mending memories that you built
A Tinker's daughter
Rewiring my grief
Sitting at your workbench and
Stripping it of guilt
Sit and watch, Tinker
Watch me try to mend a heart
Left in disrepair
Polish here, dust there
Every detail adjusted
Acceptance strived for
Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 12:25 AM UTC
I want poetry to break out of it's underground cave
Break out of the solitary lonely, locked cage.
I want my poetry to be capable of inspiring change
I want to illustrate beauty in a verse beautifully maimed
I want to communicate the tender sudden pulse of a surface wound
I want my poetry to be blueprints for change, in the world, or a room
I want to connect the universal nerve of tremors and feelings
I want to connect wires and vessels, shifting cells and ceilings
I want to broadcast this current human condition,
Rewiring like a revolutionary electrician
I want to transcend my, and next time,
With my poems added to anthologies
And each of their lines
Being recited by literary scholars and dedicated readers
But I have accepted some poets are popular during their lifetimes
Like Alice Cary, and Maya Angelou
With acknowledged, renowned, printed
Published Stanzas, and lines.
I want to at the very least, be one of those who guard a hidden, folded..
[Rather than outdated, infamous, tattered and broken]
..genuis.
Or maybe an answer to some past hanging question
Found in the very letters in my words to
The trademarked inflection
Breathing a bashful verse that grew in this universe
Or the next
To strengthen roots of the beauty of language
The older, the wiser, the more interpreted complex
Not the unknown but claimed roots of American poetry
And some
May close the **** kindle. Or rip out the last page.
After I die, I might return with bones live with rage.
Because if nothing has happened, I will continue to say:
I want my poetry to be capable of inspiring change.
Because we are destroying a world we should be killing fighting to save.
(Hopefully this shan't be said again from a grave.)
Each person who has read solely to write one more page
Take your weapons, inspire, engage
None can lay bricks until a clear path is paved.
iii.viii.xii
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 6:41 AM UTC
i remember the days when i'd spend hours painting, journalling, just enjoying being alone,
and now...i'm afraid of the thoughts that may enter my head during those spaces.
constant spirals of reminders of all that is or could be broken inside of me.
i'm told of god's grace and love,
and i know these truths,
but to truly believe is completely different.
how do i stop striving to make myself holy?
lovable?
good enough?
why can't it just be a simple switch one can turn on and off?
it's a whole new rewiring of neurons and thought patterns.
where do i even begin to change?
it seems so daunting and overwhelming
Nov 15, 2021
Nov 15, 2021 at 11:03 PM UTC
The newspaper called my father
a Tonsorial Expert and
a Smiling Gentleman
My father whose head is like
a Christmas tree lot on
New Year's Day and
whose mouth was like a rainbow
photographed in sixty-four shades
of gray but
that might have been my fault
even at six
that might have been my fault
He had done
a nice job of hairstyling
according to the pleased
customer, Mr. Holmes
just as he would do
a nice job of mopping floors and
a nice job of rewiring classrooms and
a nice job of growing weaker each day
growing hunched like an unused fishhook but
that might have been my fault
even now
that might have been my fault
Jul 22, 2011
Jul 22, 2011 at 4:34 PM UTC
We follow our vision
And we don’t need no permission
The gifts that we are given
Are what sent us the soul mission
I’ve reawakened now
Cannot be forsaken now
While my heart is breakin
I’ll gain power through creation
I’ll be a great sensation
This healing that I’m spittin
Will revitalize the nation
You feel that?
It’s all reverberatin
You’ll see the revelation
When you reach recalibration
If ya hearin what I’m sayin
It’s the reconciliation
Of the positive vibration
Through mental emancipation
You feel the synergy
It’s all positive energy
If you have been a friend to me
You’re ****** with the ministry
Never seen a guru
That could send vibration through you
Watch you while you do you
I’m watching how you move true
Ain’t doin no voodoo
It’s really pure and true
Who
do you see when you look
Into the mirror
As your vision gets clearer
We are divine reflections
Nobody is in fear here
We are superior
To the wicked theories here
Meek men are the weary there
Cannot be hysteria
It’s so mysterious
How they are in fear of us
But let us feel like we are the ones
Who are inferior
I’m livin grateful
Because I am the faithful
I’ve been so graceful
You can see my face full
Of smiles
We do it all the while
Even as they broke me down
Since I was a child
We’ve traveled miles
To reach the promise land
Yes we teachin and we preachin
As we reach out all our hands
To our brothers, yes, our fellow man
I hope you overstand
Why we reject their commands
Make our own demands
To move only with God’s plan
We keep it moovin
We never loose the groove and
We tie up all our loose ends
Countin all these dividends
You feel the synergy
It’s all positive energy
If you have been a friend to me
You’re ****** with the ministry
I’m letting go now
Following the flow now
Never seem to let up
Not likely to slow down
You’ll never see us frown
Smiling while we’re feelin down
Even in the tears we drown
We take our power back
Use that **** to cleanse
Because tears are so sacred
Because we are the huemans
No need to pretend and
Every time they send them
Rewriting rewiring
Send it to the fire and I’ll
Then we start to rise again
Like a phoenix
Straight up out the ashes
And if they don’t like it
They can kiss our heady *****
While we count the assets
No need to go flashing
Abundance we receiving
Looks can be deceiving
We are the healing
Faces and hearts we stealin
And when we reel ‘em in
They’ll see who they’re dealin with
It is within
Absolution from sin
Send it all to the sun
Because we know that we are one
And when all is said and done
Know the healings just begun
You feel the synergy
It’s all positive energy
If you have been a friend to me
You’re ****** with the ministry
You feel the synergy
It’s all positive energy
If you have been a friend to me
You’re ****** with the ministry
We follow our vision
And we don’t need no permission
The gifts that we are given
Are what sent us the soul mission
Nov 13, 2023
Nov 13, 2023 at 7:28 AM UTC
Despots.
History.
Replete
with those
who’d
control.
Hoist
their
views,
beliefs
onto the
masses.
Today.
Look
around.
Easy
to see.
It’s everywhere.
Manipulation.
Not militarily.
Technological.
Mind melding.
Brainwashing.
One way
or the
other.
Battle zone.
Monocrats.
As with
days of
old.
Battling
for control.
Technology,
waves of
influence
circling the
globe.
Altering
perceptions.
Rewiring
thought.
Pitting one
against the
other.
As with
the past
yet more
insidious,
dangerous.
Minds
in a
vice grip.
Addicted
to the
screen.
Unable
to let
go.
New despots,
same as
the old!
Feb 23, 2024
Feb 23, 2024 at 9:01 AM UTC
Read it and weep is what was said before you sleep of heavy eyes that have cried and cried denying you tried to have a stronger stride in everyone else’s lives realizing the lies of lying beside a hive of pride wears interfered with your fear’s gears given to you by piers to have you stay clear of abiding in tears bestriding you to do best impressing the depressed under arrest for theft of aggressed messes their confesses addressees you to pieces of what was needed reread the succeeded who defeated the pleaded weren’t conceited eventually forfeited.
Apparent parents nonstop watching the clock for when you will stop wallowing in the following inquiring who’s hiring without fault of firing desiring an admiring ring from a team of teens wanting a rewiring of what isn’t giving out a beam of mean to supreme schemes of more than it seems acclaims a frame of you rearranged to set fame to their game.
Nov 22, 2011
Nov 22, 2011 at 10:00 PM UTC
Dreaming, within a dream
Seeing those, that don't see me
Wondering if it's all due to my projected reality.
Only to wake up to a mind that wants to hassle me.
remember to breathe
I'm still here
Going to leave this head and enter the formless
Embrace all the love that keeps us at our warmest
Find innermost truths, waiting to be found in unconscious corners
Under a white light, joining other performers.
I told my friend as we rested our heads that we can fly
Belief is everything, sensing immediate retreat with the refusal to try
Now I'm in the sky, shaping clouds as they pass by
Even if I can't help everyone rise, I hope to at least paint them something beautiful in their mind's eye.
Visually stimulating, and absolutely comfortable.
I'm here to remind you that this life is so wonderful.
With each second that flees, we could be, rewiring our circuitry.
Living a life that's driven so purposefully
Stranger shifts have happened,
but this is your vessel, you are the captain
Watching the waves come to me in a rhythmic fashion
Speaking without words, only to express this true passion.
"..."
I need to visit the man in the mirror
He provides me a smile and dissipates my fear
Even though my own ship, I may not know where to steer..
I know that once all the sediment settles,
The depths of the water that reflect, will become clear~
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
Bobby,
I miss you man. You got your wings to fly to infinity,
Rather than have your feet roam this land. A few days before you passed, I saw you sitting with a smile in my dreams. That still frame I now hold onto, and it assists in keeping me at ease. Few saw the connections in your head rewiring. It's still hard to imagine your body retiring. Though your pistons are no longer firing, your soul yet flows. Energy can never be destroyed, and so it goes, always in motion. Had we had the clairvoyance to see the outcome, I'd liketo think we would run to you with the potion. Sometimes it's hard to see beyond the confines of self. These sobering moments make us realize we are always able to offer help. ****** buried under the skin now effects the nerves of us all. You were bigger than your body, and now we know that no impact is too small. I heard you saved a life, just before you lost yours. Reminding us to spread our light, forever on this course. As action put perspective into hypothetical contemplation, I wonder if there would still be the funeral if we had one more conversation. Inadvertently, you brought so many together. There we stood with heads bowed down under the rain in a gloomy Tuesday's weather. The images inside were thought-provoking. But at a loss, many of us stood outside smoking. Holding onto a little glimpse of forever, seeing your body at rest to which you were no longer tethered. You are remembered, and we thank you for the memories. You shared all you were given, life's simple pleasantries. Like I envisioned, I wished I would have spoken at your service. Lingering on your siblings' words, maybe I got nervous. Where most see a dead-end, eye like to see a new life with purpose. So I take a deep breath from my chest and offer blessings to your fresh start. Just know all of us are honored to be a part of your journey, which is eternally embedded in our hearts~
Thank you Bobby,
Talk to you later.
Much love
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 9:27 PM UTC
You’re sad. And sadness, well, it’s characterized by negative circumstances in your life. But have you ever thought about it? How the brain controls emotions? How the brain, literally, controls every reception in our body?
Loss of a family member, of a special someone, disappointment over your colleague–everything that happens in our world is pure information. And our brain decides how to react to it. I am sad, you are sad, he is sad. Everyone feels the same, though never exactly on the same degree. But the point is everyone endures feelings because our mind tells us to. And sometimes your brain will fail you and would you ever know why? Why the system of the neurons rewiring in your head suddenly choose to break you? As much as you want to be in control, it’s hard and it’s a process. But thinking about it, isn’t it magical? How the brain controls your decisions and suddenly your entire life?
But remember, you’re just science in this world. We all are. You’re a walking anatomy of cell tissues. A speck of humanity sitting in corners. Barely significant. You’ve read books about the philosophy of mankind, of intangible things, of excruciating norms. But the mind could only absorb what you feed. Now I’m asking, how do we take control? Our emotions? Our tendencies to reciprocate what’s unworthy? How do we justify the unthinkable? Art? How do we take control of our lives? Faith is a good concept but aren’t we just a product of science–-science of pumping blood and adrenaline glands? Science of DNAs and reproductive system? Bottom line is, mortality is cruel. And all our stories end in one–death, decomposition, and a life untold.
So try not to be sad. Try to take control of your feelings. Take over your ******* brain–your freaking hypothalamus. Because in years time, eventually we’ll crumble in the ground. And we won’t remember a thing, memories happy or sad.
―a.t.
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 12:49 PM UTC
i. 403 Forbidden
lost_in _this_digital_scream.mp3
it’s over
shutdown.
restart.
pick up the pieces.
you know who this is
you know where this is
fresh eyes to see the world
strings of code
binary - 1 or 0
y/n
n.
back into the
cave we go
ii. 401 Unauthorised
you split yourself open.
rewiring
it is time to make a change
your code writ in red and
love and trauma
plug you in
(plug into me)
corrupted files
delete, delete
a cut job (ctrl x)
you do not have access.
iii. 404 Not Found
who are you
where are you
what colour is the sky
what colour is the sea
why can you feel the pull of the moon
does the earth call to you
why
why does she have rainbow eyes
ah.
there you are
(were)
empty automata
take to change.
flee from me.
find safety.
firewall.
sleep,
electric sheep dreams.
defragmentation
debugging
recalibration
everything not saved will be lost
iv. 410 Gone
you wake.
(FALSE)
the world is new
to you again
or you are
new to it.
i won’t find you in this place
because you’re gone
(again)
new version
ctrlaltdel.
empty.
a reconfiguration
ship of theseus
whole again
without them
coda. Metadata
you run out into the dark
the burdened and choked night sky
you see nothing
you see everything
this world is yours to reshape
and you to be reshaped with it
cause and effect
no more binary. no more
i am waiting for you.
Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 12:54 PM UTC
The light at the end of the tunnel is actually a sense of worth, of value, of relevance... a sense of purpose and place.
The loss of these took me here.
It is not a light that those in the tunnel control... seemingly forever beyond my reach and unable to believe in value, place or worth.
It was never the aim to switch the light off. It was the hand and judgement of others that threw the switch to off. It is why the light and the switch are on the outside of the tunnel and not in the darkness where I am.
If you give no worth...
If you give no value...
If you give no relevance...
If you give no purpose...
Then there can be no place where the light can shine.
Apr 11, 2019
Apr 11, 2019 at 7:55 PM UTC
I never thought I'd be completely crazy over you. I guess I was simply too busy getting lost in your eyes with the hopes of slowly navigating my way across your body. Your skin was softer then a thousand flower petals and with each movement I felt you settling deeper inside my bones. Rewiring all of my faulty pieces, from the inside out.
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 8:14 AM UTC
is the trigger
a pill is the switch
you are the engineer
encapsulating power to control
which way it is flicked
rewiring nature
so chemicals
are now rendered necessary
to feel
and in their absence
you are only a spoke
without the wheel
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 6:20 PM UTC
Public opinion
Confusion reigns until his lordship explains
that our best interests are served by
remaining in service
no education for free for this
subject,
subject to decree from
her highness,
most royal majesty
Informally known as Lizzie.
His lordship is marking our card,
we must work very hard
get little pay
not too much noise
and
no *** on Sunday,
what a way to have to live
they take, take, take
and we try to live on
**** all
they live in a bigger hall
which still means **** all
to me.
I'm voting
one way or another
I'm voting
boring into the dead wood
Breadcrumbs.
I am Hansel and Gretel being
dead good.
Liz gets down to the business of queening,
cleaning the silverware'
getting rid of the peasants who get in her hair
tending to Phil
having her fill of kedgeree
and sod all for the likes of me,
She's off my Christmas list
if we were a republic
A peasant? revolting,
his lordship puts the boot in
but
the fault's in the system
we all need rewiring.
I'm going to Grimsby
that place will suit me
fish, chips and a
mug of tea
bye bye your majesty
don't wait up
I'll be home late.
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 1:53 AM UTC
Among the crowd,
a stranger lurks.
He looks like them,
acts like them,
although,
he doesn’t feel like them.
The eyes in the street are all the same –
“I want someone to know my pain”.
Swimming among the sea of faces,
a ghost moves amongst them.
Taunted by memories of the past,
the rewiring of brain chemistry into a mess.
Voices of torture,
of pain, of sorrow,
the picking of decaying flesh.
What’s left?
Another face in the crowd,
Just another guy with a story,
No more or less special than
the blade of grass that’s underneath him.
Just another name in the wind.
Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 9:38 PM UTC
Most of the machines don't know
they're broken.
They hum circadian.
I am in a patch-process.
I'm rewiring my hard drive
with the only chips I know.
I hope You like
my feeble,
yet desperate attempts,
to reconstruct my mainframe,
my big iron.
Pray for Me.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
dreams are powerful antics
grip you from absolutely no where
then they are gone
baby
gone in a flash
let me sleep uninterrupted
the absence of dreams
is a dream itself
if the obscure is important
we’re ******
a total rewiring is required
capacities are misjudged
at only one step
the one in front of you
Friday, November 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 12:05 PM UTC
The year of HD colours
and endless mind-
rewiring sessions
I blink once, twice
hold my breath
zone out
slip to the nearest galaxy
I look
again
and still
you're
a Black & White complication
thousands miles away from
a grey and colour palette situation
Jun 25, 2017
Jun 25, 2017 at 2:02 PM UTC