I’m real because I can beI have nothing to hideno appearances to keep upI’m just a nameless person because I am not known in a world of somebodies writing off wordsletting go of thoughts existing herethe same as youthe somebodies and all the others forgotten names trying to exist knowing they exist and wondering isContinue reading “I’m real because I can be.”
Tag Archives: poetry
A pile of spaghetti.
I want to be patient able to calm my mindlistennot reacta supportive bodynot a pile of spaghetti to slip upon when walking through the kitchen you’re holding a knife in your handgashing bits of skin as you slip I don’t want to be torment I want to be a happy feeling not the coldest partContinue reading “A pile of spaghetti.”
The feeling feeders.
They crawlthey get inthey get outnestling within the dirt. The feeling feedersexpand, growing largerthey want a releasethey want to speakand me listen and I can’tbecause I am not selfless. In the dirt they multiply eating the neighborhood taking it inletting it out in their squeaks they want us to listen their stories exhausting and I’mContinue reading “The feeling feeders.”
A shovel in the holethrowing about the excesstrying to make it largerdigging about they’re going to find it. Pacing in the cell awaiting the final callit’s their choice waiting and pacing. A few holes air, there is airbreathe quick slow it down just a tick. All shook up their hands moving fasta headache setting inContinue reading
They all spoke.
They all spokemany wordsand they all wrote them down quickly and with passion feeling a matter of connectivity liking is what they didand posting pictures of their dayscommenting and sharingand when they met face to facethey’d smile with a how is your day?an expectation of one wordgoodand when more was sharedthey courtessly exited the conversation.Continue reading “They all spoke.”
Change is somewhere.
A few cents to sparechange is somewherecluttering up surfacesrarely brought out for purchases. Spot me $150to give back to that debt for me and then I’ll rummage through just to find you a few centsadd it up to several bucks not worth rent. I’ll donate to charity when the billionaires are down to their penniescountingContinue reading “Change is somewhere.”
A smaller pile would be nice.
So this is what we domake more for what?This shit is plasticit breaks we melt it down and make more?We box it wrap it up morefor its own safety.Place it in a bin does it arrive at the facility to melt it down or within a pile of rubbishto sit and wait? I’ve heard bacteriaContinue reading “A smaller pile would be nice.”
A panic is me.
A scalpel to the skulllarge enough indentation to slip the cloth within small enough to be unseenmistaken for a dry patch. The cloth absorbs the fluidsdrying out my brain waiting it downI feel the aches as I try to think a thought. Words are missing and sadness is left irritability rising as the sensors sporadicallyContinue reading “A panic is me.”
A robotic movement.
Artificial IntelligenceA robotic movement a mimic of man flesh isn’t neededblood isn’t metallicif they were openthere would be gearsthrough study they learn their endless source of information helpsbut they need more they begin to open the bodiesholding hearts in their handscan they feel it? How do they measure touch is there a sensor they canContinue reading “A robotic movement.”
We rely.
We rely on being taughtrather than learning through action trial and error.We do not like mistakesand we do not embraceas we once had in the past.Rather we read searching through textbooks to find truthsto find answers disintegrating the wonder of it alland paralyzing ourselves to a life of technology in which tells us when toContinue reading “We rely.”
Temperamentally Tina 