"robotically" poems
It took sixteen years to become acquainted with my old self.
The self that:
Could not write on crumpled papers,
Or sleep in untucked sheets,
Played her scales robotically,
Left no word incomplete.
Labelled all the cupboards,
Books were organized by name,
This was the life I led.
I never knew that it would change.
it took 4 weeks to fall in love with my new self
the
self
tha
t
writes on ollld receipts,
kicks the covers off the bed
~lets my fingers play freely~
not every sentence has an en-
stores shoes with coffee mugs!!
writes in mArGiNs to save time
not all rules need to be f o l l o w e d
not all poems need to
sound the same
who knew that little pill
would teach me how to live
not erase the 'me' that showed
but bring out the 'me' that hid
16 years of worry
of obsessive, anxious thoughts
who knew that little pill
would change me
I,
for one,
did not
.
- p. winter
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 10:33 PM UTC
Filing robotically
Smiling like a million
(fake)
Mona Lisas
In a portrait that
has violently painted them
violently painted us
decided our landscape
(colors
design)
painted violently
smile smile smile
Mona Lisa smile
It demands that we smile
But
This is not art
Smile smile smile
But are you happy
Smile smile smile
But are you happy
Fall fall fall
crack the smile
serene Mona Lisa
is cursed
like us.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 1:41 PM UTC
Wishing I could live in a fairytale land
Where singing my feelings
Would be a common feat;
Dancing through the streets,
Meeting my soul mate
Knowing that we were forever.
Feeling enchanted and believing
In magic; these are the things
My heart sincerely desires.
I don’t want to settle for the mundane
Seemingly normal life,
That everyone robotically lives.
I want to traverse the ocean,
Experiencing the wonders
Of art and ancient civilizations.
I want to believe in pixies.
Believing the stories of gypsies
That traveled spewing tales of magic.
I want to live on Middle Earth
Where there are many types of “human”
Including the one I grew up to be.
I want to be an elf that lives forever
And is exceptionally good at archery;
With a dwarf for a best friend.
I want to believe in Greek gods
With their magic and the powers
They hold in everything.
My heart longs for so much more.
I’m afraid that this world
Won’t be able to offer it to me.
This world seems broken
Beyond the ability to repair.
It’s too scientific.
I’m afraid that all the magic
That is left, is just that;
Empty fairytales.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
Coworkers seeking chit chat
I've a long night at that
Smiling and nodding robotically
If I leave they will hate me
The office party is on
They usually drag on till dawn
I look around for a spot
Just to hide out from the lot
Raising my head I see you
Eyes bright and blue
You look in my direction
I smile to show affection
As you move near me
My heart begins it's plea
Your fragrance precedes
A temptation indeed
Inches from me you stand
I reach out my hand
You slip your fingers in mine
Pulling me close its divine
You whisper in my ear
Why are you trembling dear?
I answer with a gentle kiss
Your smile tells me you like this
My intention is to hold you close
And dance until we overdose
My hands enjoy your curves
Another kiss to calm your nerves
Our bodies move in unison
This night has just begun
Dance with me till daybreak
These feelings I can't fake
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 8:37 PM UTC
Romance, for he is the one who seemed to be trapped
A sea of melancholy
Oh, the beauty
Quite unbearable
How he hides what is deep inside
Having no patience nor the time for idle cares
Little by little he loses his way
This is what I call an unhidden heart
You can see it
But the thought isn't really there
Appearances at first glance
With any pair of human eyes
Are what seems to be love
Little by little he loses his way
A deeper dig you find that what you thought
Was a heart
Is an empty abyss
Little by little he loses his way
Without knowing
His personality is switching
Little by little he loses his way
Meek and darkness overpowers
This was fact
Till the day he met
Emotion
She was stirring, dancing
Throughout the clouds
Feelings bursting without warning
She was everything
That Romance was not
Automatically,
Almost robotically,
Semi-impossibly
They fell in love
Without a care
Emotion was unafraid
Unafraid to unveil her heart
Slowly but surely
Romance learned
His shell was wrapped airtight
Unfolding, slow
Layer by layer.
This took time, no rush
He became free
Time and patience
Letting go of the past
Automatically
Almost robotically
Semi-impossibly
They fell in love
Without a care
Ready to move on
Letting Emotion show him, her ways
To live
Not only to live,
But to thrive in happiness
Carefree
Their love
A melody
Priceless, a gold you could never purchase
A light, blazing rays, a golden star
Who could not hear the beating of their hearts?
Rich and pure
Together they were a spirit, complete
Hidden in each and every one of us
We are all individual
Yet we share their story
Fate takes its course
Little by little you lose your way
Yet automatically,
Almost robotically,
Semi-impossibly,
They fell in love without a care
Fate once again brought two strangers in love
No questions
No ponders
Unexplainable
Love does not need an explanation
Self explanatory
This is your story
Find your Romance and Emotion
But first
Little by little you will lose your way
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 1:00 AM UTC
Don't understand why universe took you away
Bits of you seen in all surroundings in some sort of way
Anyone observing wouldn't notice something wrong
Crumbling under a surface that is strong
I attempt to hold head up high
Shrugging off wounding emotion
Repeating routine robotically
Earth's rotation slow-motion
I send deepest regrets with the wind to be lifted into the sky
Whispering words never said before
Worst of all:
"Goodbye"
Accepting absence as permanent obstruction
Leaves me teetering on edge of destruction
There are moments I wish ground would open up and swallow me whole
Touching not one drop of water yet I'm drowning in the depths of my soul
You always did best to protect me throughout the years
In return I have let you down
Victim of my greatest fears
It might not have been my responsibility to keep you safe and sound
I could have poured out some of those shots you would pound
It was my duty keeping your secrets locked up out of sight
Over and over again I told you no so you responded with a fight
Rather than be at odds I would give in to your spiteful remarks
You ultimately would win and I would fetch your bottle of Monarch
Now I'm haunted by those countless simple mistakes
Forced to bear weight of the fact I didn't have courage it takes
I want to rewind life so I could get another chance to show
That you mean much more to me than I dared to let you know
I'd rather be who's held in the reaper's embrace
Than stuck here tears running down my face
May 17, 2023
May 17, 2023 at 6:56 AM UTC
Dear Diary,
Why does life seem to wrap you up in a cup of madness
then tip you out and watch you spill
the contents of yourself
onto a cold and muted tile floor?
Why, dear Diary,
does everyone expect you
to react perfectly in every situation
and robotically fix and tweak and mutate?
Diary,
I am not a machine.
I can't bend this way and that
at the same time
without breaking.
I can't smile a smile
that I don't believe.
I can't,
and I won't.
Diary,
You have so forlornly sit in the back of my mind
gathering dust and termites and grime
I can hardly speak to you at all
for my problems you cannot solve.
Just a lended ear do you offer
A lonely penance for my coffer
To spare a word a thought, some grace
to be able to pick up my forlorn face.
I look into the ***** night
so hateful and full of spite
Reprehensible rejection cease
as it knocks me to my knees.
Dear Diary,
I do plead,
Save my soul
or else I'll bleed.
Oct 21, 2010
Oct 21, 2010 at 7:38 PM UTC
She is breaking.
There's a void in her tracks
and no light ahead.
The conflict between love lust and love lost
is waging it's war on her fleshy shores.
She can't seem to choose a side,
it all looks the same.
"It's a trap" she chokes.
She is freezing.
Her frigid heart is icing over
and her brain is going numb.
A vicious cycle of meandering
through brackish monotony -
looking for a map -
leads to where it all began.
Repeat.
"Nothing changes" she sighs.
She is vanishing.
Whispered honesties go unheard
amidst the cacophony of cross talk
and empty words.
Her absence goes unnoticed
as a silvery ghost of her
robotically relives her daily deeds.
"Anchored in reality" silently.
She is caving.
Breaking down like glass in a relentless tide,
Little pieces of her
are left to join the countless sand.
She's finding there's no escape
from this earthly purgatory
for the damaged and ******
"There has to be more than this."
Oct 16, 2014
Oct 16, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
Lately I've been feeling as if everything I'm writing belongs
under the kitchen sink with all the Comet and various brands of bleach and the
rest of the junk cleaning supplies that haven't been used since
the early nineties.
Ideas are scarce,
thoughts aren't making the cut,
and I feel like I'm in a more disconcerting version of ***** Wonka's glass elevator
riding robotically in this box,
puncturing others' moments with its corners like they're
gigantic, ecstasy-encompassed balloons
capable of doing nothing more than
launching weak waves of laughter
that languidly dissipate when they reach the
hard exterior of my cage
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 2:59 PM UTC
Oh, Tepid Girl!
You insipid fool,
Beware your step!
Your bank-less waters,
Brackish, deep.
Keep your head
above the break, girl!
You're gonna sink.
You're neither here
Nor there, girl!
Can't go back,
Stuck, stand still.
Oh, paint your face girl
It doesn't change,
Face the light!
You aren't beauty,
You're that grey area,
In between,
Smart but mute, girl.
Blinders on,
Hackles drawn,
You're neither hot
Nor cold, girl.
Can't hang on,
Quick, patch up.
Oh, Tepid Girl!
You insipid fool,
You burned yourself.
On Monotony,
So Robotically!
Tragically,
Girl.
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 12:59 PM UTC
What you get is not always what you're gonna see
There's a me I choose to let no one see
If you see that me let me be the first to offer up an apology
That's my B side, that's the stranger I gave a ride and once inside it destroyed my family
And quickly
I find myself beyond a solitary sorry
The fix is never near as easy as you plea for it to be
Always aware that my grip on reality was secured by the same guy who's loosing it mentally, the workmanship is shotty
I do know the motions to take though and I go through them awkwardly
Robotically emote what I think is expected, a real time commentary
Going live is scary, that's just reality
I've rehearsed my lines so when I do I blend in seamlessly
Neither are an ability I use to be a mystery, well, not completely
I'd rather no one see behind the privacy shrubbery
It's private property but I never enforced it properly
Good 'ol hindsight, always 20/20
No control on this disorder, examples are aplenty, it'll eventually break free then consume what's left of me
No one believes when I say this is not me
Honestly, I don't put up much proof of the contrary
I do try, but these copy/paste repairs are undone too easily
Woe is me
©2023
Dec 21, 2023
Dec 21, 2023 at 5:21 PM UTC
Sai Krishna
what magic have you wrought
the sideshows and acrobatics
of the world no longer entice
robotically I go through the motions
of daily living
my mind totally absorbed in You
Captivating Lord
You have performed a sleight of heart
and I am hopelessly smitten
fatally attracted I stalk Your
charming footsteps
planning my sweet ambush
Alluring Giridhari
the mid-night air is
dulcet
and heady aroma of
jasmine enchants the Soul
on the soft earth
I have drawn a sacred white circle
a magical mandala
under a pyramid of stars
I wait
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 10:06 PM UTC
The problem wasn't the money
or the fame,
not the taunt, ripe bruises
shining from her heart
or the painful creak of her
hip bones when she moved.
No, the problem wasn't
the seeping words or
the tightness in her chest
every time she passed a church.
It wasn't the way the holiday lights
made her head dizzy or
the floating sensations
in grocery store lines
and it was definitely not
how her associates nonchalantly
patted her back in passing,
blatant excuses to walk on.
It wasn't the smell of soap
or the staring for hours
at the ceiling.
It wasn't the long, smooth metal
of the numbing pipe or
the sweet taste of Sangria wine.
It wasn't the many times
she'd been used or
the indignation that set in
when the walls were quiet.
It wasn't even the tapping pipes
that kept her awake at night
with their torturous monotony.
The problem was not the comparisons
or the dismissive tendencies,
the disconnections,
the draining of her energy
or even the isolation.
It was not the quiet meditation
or the constant spirit guide speak,
not the unpaid bills on the mahogany desk
or the whirring sounds of
a radiator about to explode
in her only transportation.
It never was the monetary lack
or the diseased reality
she was never given
the choice to escape from.
No, the problem was the sadness,
living there in the base of her spine
like a tall, thin castle
spearing up into her vertebrae
until her whole being ached.
It was the way the sadness
made her muscles swell,
and her face become pasted
to cotton pillow shams,
the frown lines starting to
make their way to her chin and
the visuals consistently invading.
It wasn't the crass indifference
piling up on her skin like bones,
the remains of every person who
had touched her and left,
leaving another layer
added to the angst.
Instead it was the secrets
housed inside the sadness,
catacombs of skeletons
break dancing in her ballast,
as if her tears were raindrops
and the sobs a symphony.
So no, it wasn't the way she
robotically moved through her day
or the smiles she feigned,
not the haze in her eyes
left by too many nights of crying
or the sleep where memories faded.
It was just
the sadness.
{recorded version https://soundcloud.com/venniekocsis/the-sadness}
v.k poetry
copyright @ dbv publishing 2013
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 2:46 PM UTC
I know what it is to be deceived.
I know what it is to say blindly and devotedly that which ought to be said.
I know what it is to deal with those who open their mouths and say all that is dishonest, disingenuous. Predictably so, leaving you wondering exactly why any of us bother with any of it at all. Leaving you wonder whether our persona is what are we are told to be, rather than who we are.
Surrounding me, enveloping me, suffocating me are the actors, trampling on this world they use, unashamedly, as their stage.
How lifeless they are. How robotically, disingenuous they are. Yet, how enthusiastic they are in the delivery of their well-learnt script! Those words that come pouring out, stolen from a script they've been given, those words light as air, float above us all, without weight. Meaningless
Yet, with such energy and enthusiasm they deliver these words.
They are either uncaring or unaware that they trample all that matters in the process. On all that makes life not a repetitious slog of playing a game. No. They do not understand the destructive activity they are partaking in with such fervor.
As, the ritual ends, and the curtains close, how hungrily they grovel for appraisal, every last drop of it. Lifeless, without a soul they are, yet artful in the game of deception, they have learnt to be. Able to appear filled with energy and glee, leaving it unbeknownst to anyone that when looked inside of mechanisms and cold metal is all that will be discovered.
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 2:06 AM UTC
Frequently I find myself covered in soot
Looking down I ***** shackles tied to each foot
Above I see bolts of boring bold steel
Limiting the stretch of what my feelings can feel
Within the private gift we all have been deemed
I am vested in crisscrossed layers uncleaned
Hammering my head are your ticks and your tocks
Recalling my labors for horrid have nots
I must amuse the begotten bejeweled
Robotically remain a chaotic fool
Most of us have been trained to forget
But avail awaits harvest like a reserve in the mess
Special they are that save and revive
Recognize the saviors that make you alive
Ahh…
Safely deep is the desire, a vision of retreat
Infectious is the perfect picture which I have begun to see
Fussing forgone, and put down with glee
I've found the buzz that busies me
That awakens my long since lazy feet
And ends the feast that which my fears eat
The world has given my soul a rhyme
To which I flow and from which I rise
I confused my curse; I'll refuse no more
Its decidedly a gift that has settled my war
Jun 7, 2012
Jun 7, 2012 at 5:46 AM UTC
Click clack click
We left the comfort of the amethyst curtain
Onto the stained wooden stage
The room is wide and filled with echoes
I stare into the red seats where identical faces sit
They show no emotion and I want them to feel
Feel anger, joy, sadness, something
My instructor paces across the stage towards the microphone
Hello
Suddenly the words that were to follow turn into muffles
All I can hear is my heart beat
They sound like quarter notes
The muffles end once my instructor is back in my sight
He exhales and smiles
The burning lights make him look like a god
He raises the baton and I forget everything
1...2...3...
We play the keys robotically but we breathe humanity
The notes trace our fingers and play your heart strings
Our slurs curve your lips into a smile
We want you to feel joy
We want you to remember childhood memories
It's not just kids with instruments
There are stories being told
We put our life into the instruments
We remember being called fools
And how we were wasting our time
We tell you our stories through these notes
Hoping you will feel what we felt
But we'll never know until the final note
When the baton goes down and we bow to the crowd
It's exhilarating
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 2:35 PM UTC
I know what it is to say blindly and devotedly that which ought to be said.
I know what it is to deal with those who open their mouths and say all that is dishonest, disingenuous. Predictably so, leaving you wondering exactly why any of us bother with any of it at all. Leaving you wonder whether our persona is what are we are told to be, rather than who we are.
Surrounding me, enveloping me, suffocating me are the actors, trampling on this world they use, unashamedly, as their stage.
How lifeless they are. How robotically, disingenuous they are. Yet, how enthusiastic they are in the delivery of their well-learnt script! Those words that come pouring out, stolen from a script they've been given, those words light as air, float above us all, without weight. Meaningless
Yet, with such energy and enthusiasm they deliver these words.
They are either uncaring or unaware that they trample all that matters in the process. On all that makes life not a repetitious slog of playing a game. No. They do not understand the destructive activity they are partaking in with such fervor.
As, the ritual ends, and the curtains close, how hungrily they grovel for appraisal, every last drop of it. Lifeless, without a soul they are, yet artful in the game of deception, they have learnt to be. Able to appear filled with energy and glee, leaving it unbeknownst to anyone that when looked inside of mechanisms and cold metal is all that will be discovered.
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC
There is the monster coming out of me
He's the only one that keeps me from the bleed
I'll let him rule my heart again
Keeps me far from everyone's sin
Harden what little heart I have left
Because all I did was wept
I'll never let love in
No never again
Sweet oblivion
Never to be forgiven
Heart in a blender
Life torn asunder
Let the moster out
Turn it all about
Never to let any one close
This is what I've chose
It's only way my life goes
Other wise agony just grows
My life has changed
My feelings are deranged
My soul mate is estranged
It's all been rearranged
So I let the monster roam
Only he can bring me home
I'm back in the dark
It's only right I'm marked
The broken only get thrown away
So in the trash I'll stay
I will turn invisible
Because I am just to miserable
I'll let the moster be
He's the only one that truly sees
He will keep me safe
Keep me from the painful place
The moster keeps everyone at bay
So I can robotically go through my day
My moster kills the feelings
My monster will do my dealings
My monster moves my limbs
My monster now lives in my skin
Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 10:17 AM UTC
I know what it is to be deceived.
I know what it is to say blindly and devotedly that which ought to be said.
I know what it is to deal with those who open their mouths and say all that is dishonest, disingenuous. Predictably so, leaving you wondering exactly why any of us bother with any of it at all. Leaving you wonder whether our persona is what are we are told to be, rather than who we are.
Surrounding me, enveloping me, suffocating me are the actors, trampling on this world they use, unashamedly, as their stage.
How lifeless they are. How robotically, disingenuous they are. Yet, how enthusiastic they are in the delivery of their well-learnt script! Those words that come pouring out, stolen from a script they've been given, those words light as air, float above us all, without weight. Meaningless
Yet, with such energy and enthusiasm they deliver these words.
They are either uncaring or unaware that they trample all that matters in the process. On all that makes life not a repetitious slog of playing a game. No. They do not understand the destructive activity they are partaking in with such fervor.
As, the ritual ends, and the curtains close, how hungrily they grovel for appraisal, every last drop of it. Lifeless, without a soul they are, yet artful in the game of deception, they have learnt to be. Able to appear filled with energy and glee, leaving it unbeknownst to anyone that when looked inside of mechanisms and cold metal is all that will be discovered.
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 2:06 AM UTC
Tip, tap, tip, tap.
Words on a screen
Colors flashing vividly bright
Blurred eyes once keen
Squinting at the offending light
Tip, tap, tip, tap.
A façade of fame
Silence in the form of lies
Another false claim
Behind the screen’s guise
Tip, tap, tip, tap.
The keys robotically pressed
Lips creased; a wry grin
Typing as if possessed
The mind; a downward spin
Tip.
Tap.
Tip.
Tap.
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 5:00 PM UTC
In a flourish of tutus,
Proud elegance in a swan's long neck,
Beauty in the enchanting movements,
Music paving a path to the depths of thought and dance,
A curse of bitter-sweet heart-ache,
Made from luscious mellow melodies,
Covering the sovereign in a flurry of glittering feathers,
From gliding wings, forever soaring as high as hope and unconscious passion,
Dancing upon a high cloud, leaping over majestic stars,
Twirling robotically with such smoothness and precision,
Fragile human machinery; well calculated,
Her longing arms stretched out wide in a drastic need of embrace; of the warmth of love,
The spectacle draws tears for the spectators to shed,
As no warmth is received, no modest love released from the drowned heart of a boy,
The poor swan is left agonized, spinning alone, numbness taking over,
Left to the intense cold of an empty world of loneliness,
As the thief runs away, stealing her bleeding heart,
Leaving her to wander ever on in the bitter cold and slowly fading music...
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
Well after midnight, dark out, rise at seven am.
Metallic bangs and piercing whistles going off in my head.
Sleep is like the memory of a kindergarten toy,
Once loved, but disappeared among the trials in between.
Getting up tired for the fifth time this week.
Robotically dress, wash, eat.
If I can stomach anything.
No real thought process forming,
Nothing going on but everything crashing together at once.
My head has a dull ache, not pain.
My limbs are cramped and lethargy rages throughout me,
Muscle and mind.
I try to think of something to look forward to.
Nothing seems worth it today, but I will fight again tomorrow.
Saturday morning, I awake at 7am, so much for the lie in.
Joyless prospect of tolerating those around me I do love.
My friend who is not my friend,
Is beckoning me down into the thoughtless mire
I’ll go on today.
And start all over again tomorrow.
Jun 23, 2017
Jun 23, 2017 at 5:52 AM UTC
Words repeated robotically...
“I need you in my life”,
“You’re so important”, "you're my best friend",
“I love you!".....
Believed by a faulty heart, guilty for being in love. My sentence handed down by judges of fools!
My attempts defined in insanity....over and over AND ******* OVER AGIAN.........tried, truly
Expecting different results, but seemingly always rendereending the shows ending credits, blasted on the screen for all to see reading...."Yep, ****** over again!" I, To smitten to say no! I, To Addicted to run! Always returned to something loved,
Something needed, grabbing for
roses, only to grip
Vicious thorns! Scorched memories of what was meant, but never had. And so all that remains is the massaging and stretching of ears to ensure every bit of ******** is shoved so far in there feeble minds all they'll hear is........ "I=victim.........I= Liberated........I=free......."
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 12:47 AM UTC
Let dos and don'ts prevail
Where man cannot decide,
Remove the uncertainty veil
And put instincts aside
And build a concrete fence
Between all right and wrong
For the sake of social rules and hence
For the sake of pitiful us all.
And let us grow less human,
Robotically designed,
With obvious solutions,
Uncertainties consigned...
Show me the spine of morality
And give me a choice to make
For who am I, if not a gambler
Playing on fine ethics edge?
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 10:09 AM UTC