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
Copyright © Roof Missing | Year Posted 2016
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