Digitization

I felt dirty
without a qwerty
forsaking my typewriter roots
but I like Swyping
instead of typing
for future writing pursuits.


***As anyone familiar with this blog knows I prefer to let the poems stand on their own and seldom get into my inspiration, but the genesis of this poem is truly the evolution of how I record my thoughts. I started as any person exploring language would, with a writing implement and paper, whatever kind I could find. I obtained notebooks and filled them with my less than flowing scribbles.
Then my first adaptation - someone gave me an old portable typewriter. I began playing with it's keys (plus 5 quarts of white-out) and soon decided I should keep my notebooks by year and called them OT (original typed) then the year, like OT95. I even had them color coded: Yellow-typed poetry, Red-hand written poetry, Green-songs and Blue-stories.
Then my second adaptation - I experienced my first computer at work, hey now. This was something I immediately saw the potential of and quickly switched my notebooks to OD (original digital). My output began to increase because it's so much easier on a computer than a typewriter, and soon I didn't even print them out anymore, just made new folders on my computer. But once I got one at home it turned confusing because now my folders were on up to 3 different CPUs and it was messy.
Then my third and final adaptation on the way to where I am now - I got my first smart phone a couple of years ago. Once I found a word processing program and learned how to use it, my phone became my main tool for recording and storing my work. My first such phone had a keyboard as told here, but now I'm keyless and loving it. Being able to record my ideas anytime, anywhere has enabled me to not miss a day's posting in almost a year and a half - woohoo! And I also plugged into all hard drives saving my files and consolidated them on my phone, it's unbelievable. If you told me twenty years ago this is how I'd be doing it I would have laughed, but the bigger question is: what does the future hold? Thoughts streaming directly onto a grid of universal conciousness? could be tricky to keep your private thoughts private. Or will it all crash and burn starting the cycle anew? It's tough to say at this point, but until then I hope I can occasionally post something that people find worthy to peruse - are you reading me?***

Bullseye

Eros can be quite a scamp
inciting passion doomed to fail
and make a lover's journey damp
with tears that leave a salty trail

but sometimes when that arrow flies
it deftly penetrates the mark
in two whose uncommitted eyes
when locked produce a magic spark

and so it was for one young pair
it seemed their love was meant to be
despite the man's intense despair
from kidneys failing rapidly.

He waited on a donor's list
as one year very quickly fled
his only joy was when he kissed
the girl he wondered if he'd wed

and when their hope began to sink
she sought to help her perfect catch
so got checked out and in a blink
success - an unexpected match!

She gave her mate the apex gift
then married when it all was done
a blessing from across the rift
the two becoming ever one.

Crazy Love

He longed to impress her
then sweetly caress her
and one day declared
he had to possess her

and no cost was spared
to show that he cared
convincing his kin
that he was impaired

and they felt chagrin
while checking him in
to the small padded room
where he waits with a grin.

Landscape

The shrubs are shrugging off last season's shawls
like fashionistas vamping at the malls
impatient for ungainly limbs to show
and bask beneath the spotlight's searing glow,
the lawn has also shed that winter quilt
its tolerance at last begun to wilt
excited when rambunctious robin talks
to feel that brilliant glare upon its stalks.
The world is ever changing as we speak
in ways that no one living could foretell
controlled by forces far beyond our grasp,
it doesn't matter if we're strong or meek
we can't affect it so, we might as well
exist with style until our final gasp.

Fair Warning

I'm not raring to read
and too fed up to feed
refusing to grovel to greed
there's nothing that I need

my body isn't buff
nor is it terribly tough
but those that give the guff
have made me say - ENOUGH

and if they opt to play
despite my rain delay
I'm honor bound to say
that I won't walk away

I'll swing with all my might
regardless who I smite
so they'd best expedite
arranging their last rite.

Conduit

I was put here to share something beautiful
I just haven't figured out what
and fear that my failure's immutable
except for a pang in my gut

which goads me to keep on exploring
the trail that I've chosen to tread
in search of a summit where soaring
conclusions can roost in my head

evoking a sacred transcendence
to which I will surely respond
by shucking my pity dependence
and channeling what lies beyond.

Regulate

The miners of today wear dresses
and khakis and casual wear
but dig through the dirtiest messes
a server routinely compresses
to lay our secrets bare

and anyone with veins worth sticking
would have to be laughably daft
to make themselves ripe for the picking
by those that are greedily licking
their lips to give the shaft.

System

The crows are out there cawing
as the storm begins to build
negating any thawing
that I wish I could've willed
but needs continue gnawing
with a lust that can't be killed
and every flake within my sight
is cursed with uttermost delight

but as they fall and settle
on my tiny patch of lawn
I dream about the petal
of a rose, a fragile fawn
which fortifies the mettle
of this unrepentant pawn
to handle what accumulates
with confidence the sun awaits

and will achieve ascension
when the angles are just right
relieving apprehension
and the shady grip of night
and need I even mention
the removal of this blight
that coats the camp of either side
as two opposing fronts collide.

Skittish

Can someone halt this hamster wheel
I'm dying to get off
beneath a winter moon so crisp and new
my pangs refuse another meal
of pellets that I scoff
in search of more substantial fare to chew

I scurry through my plastic lair
to sniff for some egress
and wind up where I was when I began
my whiskers twitch, I blankly stare
undone by the duress
of wondering when I'll become a man.

Idiocrasy

Don't
Ever stop
For one heartbeat
Your belief in you--

Cancel out that demon doubt
Or suffer an eternity of sorrow
Never really knowing the comfort of conviction
Flowing fiercely through your veins like the ichor
Of immortality, imbuing your heart with the rhythm of
Redemption. Far beyond elysian plains is the coldness of the
Mountains, and no amount of righteousness can help those condemned there
Insisting that the snow will soon be gone, for the crystal claw
That is winter shall firmly clutch their lost, forsaken souls with frigid finality.
Yea, though we long to belong, never forfeit that which makes you truly unique.

Forth

It's time for you to journey out
and see what wonders await
don't be overcome by doubt
I know you'll do just great,

I can't believe how fast you've grown
and how much you have learned
I love you like you were my own
and I'll always be concerned

so if you ever need a hand
or just an ear to bend
I'm here forever, understand
you've always got a friend.

Eyeopener

The day he learned he might be going blind
became a somberly halcyon day
he tried to embed in depths of his mind
all he could before the light went away.

He drank in the colors of sky and earth
the day he learned he might be going blind
and worked his memory for all it was worth
to save each image he happened to find

like spiderwebs ingeniously designed
or sunlight shining on the garden wall
the day he learned he might be going blind
he noticed many wonders, big and small,

determined to ferociously explore
and always be perceptively inclined
amazed at how much he had missed before
the day he learned he might be going blind.

Misguided

I met a gray man from a distant sun
who claimed: "An errant, spinning lump of rock
has killed my planet, and when it was done
I sifted through debris and what a shock--
for in amidst the shattered chunks there spun
a fragment of a small metallic plaque
depicting humans, and I wonder why
or what we did to warrant this attack
you fired upon our unsuspecting race,
have you decided everything must die?"
I tried my best to answer him with grace
about the probes we launch without a clue
to find new life that we can all embrace,
but he was gone before my speech was through.

Uncooperative

Your stuff is yours to destroy
however you see fit
but what of those in your employ
that always do their bit
and need your pennies to survive
while you do nothing and thrive.

To you it's all a tasteless joke
a way to pass the day
but now you say you're damn near broke
and we're lucky we get any pay
well that's alright, we won't fuss
but you'll be lucky to get any work out of us.

Poet or Pauper?

I'd rather rhyme
than make a dime
so why get sore
at being poor
if I can breathe
I'll always seethe
with couplets which
make me feel rich.