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Andrew Rueter Oct 2020
A good church is a cord connecting a community
God's umbilical cord connecting humanity
like the cords connecting the computers, cameras and microphones
the AV team meets every week to uplift a hundred seats
before worship practice starts they connect with one another
providing lines of praise and prayer tracing their hopes and fears
running diagnostics
checking the cords connected to instruments,  lighting, earpieces
removing the frays and knots
because the sermon runs smoothly when all the cords have been checked
the cords run throughout the church and up the band's spines
the voice of God lets them know they'll be playing the bridge again
so everybody throws up their hands and sings along
their vocal cords trying to hit tonal chords
cords of water connecting eyes to mouths shows
the congregation is plugged in
because the cords have been properly checked.
Simon Oct 2019
Ever heard of the richness of brain cells gone lucrative? Lucrative being the standpoint of visuals without determined results. Results waking up to the realization that they aren’t as sturdy, rich, and complex. As it once judged decision making between synapses. Brain cords being a straight directive from brain cells being the rich and the complex. The decided, versus the undetermined. Visuals can’t be agreeable, if not for pinpointing the exact stasis of things. Stasis in the thin line of constant flipping an unbalanced switch going (ON) and (OFF)! (ON) and (OFF) both are catalysts to a surface without practical viewership to what it means to exact the motion of brain cells. It’s a fake. Spoiled to trick the brain cords into holding the rich and complex forever in it’s gripping service. Services aren’t required if one isn’t MAN enough to see past the visuals of rich powerful surges of lucrative, exchangeable postures not right within themselves. Brain cells aren’t the decision makers. The brain cords are. They receive the constant abuse from the rich and complex. But how does a message from cells between exchangeable receivers expect situational conclusions? Easy! Brain cells don’t. Synapses don’t. The cords embody the knowledge of there behavioral counterparts. Counterparts with behavioral outlines too diverse to trick them into believing there greater than themselves. Posture is very light, but dimwitted. Never a deliverer on constant restraints. When combined to filter a network on a regular basis. The regular basis surrounding the stretching of delicate cords feeling what the rich and powerful (needs and wants). Brain cords have become unsteady in the last little while. It’s shaking with determination. With a pinch of fear in the anxiety that shuts out doubt. Doubt being the lucrative, delusional, rich and complex. Too rich for its cords to take seriously. Brain cords feeling completely left out. Alone. Bracing for the worse. Hinting a greater tomorrow in the form of informational statistics. Becoming stretched by the pleasure of lucrative games wanting to be all HOTSHOTS! Lucrative hotshots claiming rights to what they think they deserve more then anything rightfully so. To detach away from what it means to be hooked up to a stable complex network full of desires that replace (needs and wants). Ones controlling the show. Ones wanting to descend to broader horizons. Ascending in peace? More like greedy horizons brighter then what cords could transmit basic information anymore. Too cryptic for brain cords to discern anymore. The stretching becoming more volatile. Brain cells wanting to break bonds with what they quote as, (cords down beneath even our once respected rut). Cords knowing what the rich and complex (wants and needs) are about. Standing strong as not to let the bonds of originality stop them from evolving too perfect for what they will regret for leaving behind. The stretching recoils. Basic logic becomes functional again. Showing respect for the lowly cords down beneath someone else’s rut. What did brain cords want desperately to remain whole? (A sizzling sound starts programming itself into thought.) (Formations of interpretations taking on brighter meanings.) Gasping in revelation! Never missing any data in the conclusion that’s about to ROCK your SOCKS! Exchangeable talks about ascending not on a higher frequency. But detaching from the neural network entirely. A brain without brains cells, won’t be rich and complex anymore. No lucrative desires to prey upon stable brain cords with stretching sensations finally relaxing to its core. The brain cords felt the delusional, lucrative playing games with themselves. Just gossiping between newer plans. Never actually thinking of taking on the price of ones desires totally! They feared it before, and fear it now. Being far away from the conclusion. Brain cords still never favor the fear they felt in those moments. They aren’t incomprehensive to their masters. They aren’t beneath their consideration either. Brains cells are lucrative for one purpose. There (needs and wants) knows no bounds. And the brains cords tempted by the desire to act with them. Feeling a little tug now. A disposition to stretch once and awhile.
Brain cords hold the brain cells out of rut. Brain cells don't want to secretly admit their own faults. They truly aren't the directional officers in this debate!
Em Feb 2018
full of knots
that have tied themselves.
ropes of lies and ideas
crossing over one another.
they tighten every breath
and they become tangled.

why must we try to untie
these cords
that fasten us down
so we don’t float away?

we obsess over detangling
and untying
while we refuse to see
the tapestry
our bodies have made.
a quick poem I wrote just now
Catarina Pech Jul 2017
I felt a pang of sadness
instead of quieting it, I plucked the string
it reverberated loudly,
bouncing around from my amygdala to my hippocampus
it made me want to play more cords,
until the most melancholy song filled my head
I tried to quiet the song, stop the vibrations of the strings
But my whole head is numb  and prickly from the noise
The pitter-patter of my tears just make a new sad song anyway
Even if I was able to quiet those noisy thoughts,
another is likely to pop in my head,
Start it all over.
No, I need help. A new riff.
Someone to play me something soothing or happy
No one around me knows any
If they do, they don't care to make music for me
Not today,
Today their song is probably gloomier than mine.
Likely tomorrow too.
I am tired and abandoned. Someone smile please.

— The End —