Dumb Smart Phones

Unplugged used to mean,
it is not plugged into the socket.
Unplugged on MTV
meant acoustic music, once.
Unplug-to Oprah
means meditation.

Off the grid means-
off the grid.
Where is the grid again?
Everywhere there is signal.
Off the grid is no signal.
No signal means no bars
no bars means off the grid.

No signal means no dial tone,
no signal means no sign of life,
no sign of life means it is dead.

My teen daughters phone died.
She is mourning
her loss of
social life.
She is off the grid
but fully charged
and still getting signals, stronger now
and coming back to (nonvirtual) life.





 Photo taken By Ashraf Siddiqui [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons.

Gusty or gutsy

If the wind would stop
for a moment, I would know
better to be still.



Image of painting by Winslow Homer [Public domain], The Dinner Horn (1870)via Wikimedia Commons.

Famished (i am)

Drink as though you've dreamt
in cool streams of aqua vita.
Devour what you crave
under red flame and red raw.
Indulge in your ingenious ideas,
swoon in the sweet murmurs
of language and lingering lyric,
encouraging and nourishing.
Listen to those.
Ingest for pleasure,
erupt with contagion
-for that I came-
-thou art that-
but You.
Just Now
meaning
Everything.
There is nothing more.



-for that I came- is from the poem What I Do Is Me-For That I Came by Ray Bradbury and -thou art that- is used often by Aldous Huxley (I am certain the all other words have also been used before by someone somewhere sometime somehow in some(other)way as well).


Image of painting by Ramon Casas i Carbó [Public domain],c. 1892 via Wikimedia Commons.

Thin air

The clouds kept 

getting sucked up

in tall towers,

weaving spindles

of cotton wands.

It makes

ponder,

it makes

wonder,

it caused pause

to feel for my feet,

small as they seemed

from up there.

Image By GAURAV MAROO (MY DIGI CAM) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Rime on the windows

Excuses? A few...
I denied-
I plied,
I tried, I lied
I tried to hide,
I cried,
I sighed and then
tried to clarify
why
I might (not)
write more tonight,
despite the slightly dim light,
(not) quite bright
enough
and (not) the (right) stuff
I could do
instead of (not) facing you...

And I steer clear
when I fear you are near
my space, in my place
if you hear a tear,
while fiction is lurking
late-wait
my dear,
it was just sincerely
me.
Wrestling with
preservation, conservation,
constriction, restriction to never do-
well- do not tell all
that has made me unwell...I wont
and dont.
When I go to melt the frost,
I am lost,
my fingertips won't melt the ice...
why a window if it wont show
the way out? I doubt you know,
since the rime grows on itself,
and swallowed the last word.


composed 3/29/16

Image By Hydraulicsuperman (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

To Whom this Invocation May Concern

How am little i,
oh wisest one,
to beg, plead, ask of you-
To whom do I direct this to?
i've been patiently holding it in,
awaiting your silent reply,
yet I regret to inform,
i'm grasping
at air-
missing you there,
perhaps...
-will come when you're ready,
pending by suspension,
willing my belief.
Just know,
as anticipating listener,
my tongue is in your hands.
i banish my own banter,
drowning your voice,
gurgling from my inner ear.
No More! Silence!
i remain fixed, devoted
and listening to every
syllable you may say,
chomping at all your
crisp wafer clues
not knowing how to
thank you.
when you come and go
abruptly as you
please
leaving me hanging
dead before the echoes back
because I never caught your name...


Composed 11/6/15

Image of painting by Sophie Gengembre Anderson, Portrait of a Young Girl [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

You're breaking up

Spoken word poet-

try: talking to ones soul a

loud-can you hear It?

Image of painting By Angelica Kauffmann (1741-1807) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.