The Black App

There’s a black app that lives in my iMac Who’s to say if from heaven or hell But I feel there’s a living connection Though like me it’s not learned yet to spell. It seems to augment my emotion And it lives now in my poetry Can’t say that I’ve actually seen it Not aware if it has ancestry. I can tell you it’s black as the night though Like the night, Lord, its color is deep And its breadth is as wide as the ocean It can even awake me from sleep. It is twisted by unexpressed anger Sometimes dances with snowflakes of love Feel it’s somehow related to freedom But its chains fit my soul like a glove. Visions much like this poem spellbind me Fill my mind as I wake from a dream And I must find something I can write with, If their flow disappeared I would scream. It is more like my mind is a pipeline Between this and some barely known space Where the truth is the light of existence With its colors all over the place. Getting older now it washes o’er me There’s just no way that I’m in control Always seems there’s suggestion of danger, But you’re welcome on my grassy knoll. Long Tooth July 20, 2016