wasting borrowed time
another screw up
ducking between doorways
haunted city streets
walking among ghosts
chasing the void
between neons lights
and falling stars
beer and blood
a body baptismal
a soul revival
punks need contact
How do you contact support? Please help.
The cult of chemical’s kitchen counter
Is covered in coptic cants, cures and curses.
It’s a case of cuckoos cooking karma
In a capsule of cold, carnal candy.
Float in the body sack,
the cops are not going to think
you were murdered,
they will still bid you a 'good morning'
if it is morning,
or eye you
with a deep professional suspicion.
Keep floating.
If a part of you
slips out of the body sack
nudge it gently back.
You're a sailor,
you have shipped a lot of water,
but unless your green
has forgotten how to wave
you will always be buoyant -
mostly.
You know you're in a sack, right?
Float inside it anyway,
and along the way,
pause the glide
to break a few eggshells.
You know you're in an eggshell, right?
If I got hit by a car 2 years ago,
I would’ve called you.
And I would’ve ranted about how the driver was drunk
and I wasn’t even in the road,
and you’d make a joke about how he was aiming for me
to get my number from the insurance company.
And it would make me laugh hard enough
to forget my legs were broken.
If we ever made it to college,
you’d have been my emergency contact.
But 2 years ago,
I got hit by something worse than a car
and you didn’t pick up the phone,
so I had to deal with a broken spirit and no cure.
So, I’m grateful 2 years ago my contact was my mom,
but what do I do now?
Because I’m scared no one will answer my calls,
no matter who I write down.
In 1 week, it will have been 2 years since we fell apart,
and I always hoped I’d have a new contact by now.
And I do,
someone that made me wonder
why I ever wanted to call you in the first place.
Psalm 50:15
The moon is full, but it sheds no grace,
A hollow lantern in the velvet space.
Its light falls cold on the ocean's crest,
Where waves surge on, in eternal unrest.
Loneliness whispers through the trees,
A soft, forlorn hymn carried by the breeze.
Savannah's tall grass sways in despair,
The stillness broken by no tender care.
The rivers wind with a mournful song,
Carving paths where none belong.
Streams murmur low, their waters clear,
Yet every ripple speaks of fear.
Few trees stand, their arms outspread,
Guardians over bushes, where green has fled.
Leaves shine bright, but the heart they hide
Knows no solace, no joy inside.
Among the beasts that prowl the land,
A wild rhythm binds the sand.
But even the fierce cannot escape
The ache of love's unfilled shape.
The moon watches, cold, aloof, above,
A barren witness to a world without love.
Isolation reigns where shadows creep,
And the soul sinks deep in its quiet weep.
The earthlings when looked suspicious
To life elsewhere rather gracious,
On how men destroyed earth--
Men of so little worth,
And doubtless, the sure sign
Of their concern genuine
Be that none’s tried to contact us.
____________________________
Reflections |03.11.2024| Limerick, Earth, life
When he didn't step on my bag,
(What he never did),
When he let me first finish,
(What he always did)
And when he helped me,
(What he always did),
why do I have the feeling I for the first time pay attention to it,
and try to remember it,
why do these actions of him,
Not seem self-evident?
In the movie, the” signal”
An Astronaut receives
A signal from an alien spaceship
Heading to earth
The alien repeats the word
Hello in multiple languages
While heading to Earth.
The discovery electrifies
And terrifies the world.
All the world’s governments
Decide In secret.
To shoot down the spaceship
Before it could land
As it could be either a probe
Of the beginning of an invasion.
When they enter the ship
They find the original
Voyager data discs.
Which the aliens
Were returning to earth
As an opening gambit
To establish communication.
In this life, nothing seems more beautiful
Than the visual contact.
Yet, there are times when it's not beautiful.
And it hurts, it hurts so much.
Cold, hollow gazes,
That kill when they settle on their victim.
That disgusted, angry gaze,
Of pure, unadulterated hatred.
BUT there are also beautiful gazes.
That admire, adore, love,
And give you warmth.
When they stare at me intently,
With a little smile on their face,
And I understand everything and more.
I need no explanation,
Just your eyes and mine,
Without any distraction.
In this dance of gazes,
We speak volumes without words,
Embracing the silent language,
That only the eyes can understand.
For in that moment of connection,
We find solace,
In the beauty of visual contact,
In this intricate journey of life.
Intense emotions flow from you to me all the way across town
For though what you say to me is only in text, I feel you all around
You touch my heart and open my mind, my senses running free
And if we should meet...
Just us two, you could run me to the ground
Capture (C) Susan Manley 1985
No Contact
So abrupt she was
Without any notice, rhyme or reason
She ignored and ghosted me
All contact severed
All links dead.
A month
Now two, six have gone
A year has passed
Silence becomes my companion
I get on with life, my career and my hobbies.
I have given up
The silence at first deafening
Now I grow accustomed
I have given in
And have now started to delete
All memories and contact information
To my surprise
She reaches out today
And sends me a message
And wants to contact and get back together.
I remain silent, I do not reply
As I now have grown accustomed to no contact
Because you taught me, no contact is my best reply.
What a feat it is
Longing to be held.
Not just by anyone,
But that special someone.
For touch between friends
Is truly lovely.
But nothing compares
To the touch
Between two souls
Who have chosen
Each other.
So find me,
Hold me
Love me.
And don't let me go.
Choose me
Over everyone.
so after it landed
something grey walked out of it
down a ramp that looked like
it couldn't have been
part of the ship moments ago
they appeared familiar
with where they stood
blue bottle eyes scanning
old friends from millennia ago
I think he was trying to put
one of his three fingers
on what had changed,
passing clouds smirking
as they drifted by,
anyway, to cut a long story short,
they seemed a bit put out
and it was all a little awkward
CONTACT
I have often wondered, does life exist
Not here on Earth, of course, but elsewhere
Out in the far dark universe
On some innocent planet
Where conditions are right
And given a chance
I will find out
And meet it
This day
Aaargh!
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