DRIVEN INTO MADNESS—The ELD
(Psychological impact of the Electronic logging Device)
Here I sit,
feeling like I will go insane –
Time has become a prison,
the clock is a ball and chain,
I’m wide awake –
and I need to go!
But as I watch the clock,
it still says, “NO!”
I’m being driven into madness,
without moving from this place;
Chomping at the bit,
I need to start this race!
Since people are not robots,
can clocks make driving safer?
Are ELD’s also defective,
because they are working against human nature?
Strangers but loved
aged pianist's hands
don't die in silence...
The old pianist watches
his hands ... learned
a secret... the music...
Even injured and with strength
touch still finds.
In silence his tips
dactyls hurt, suffer...
But the silence knows that
will speak in his ringtones...
dying toes
suck the last ones out of life
sighs...
The old pianist sweating,
cry dry tears...
But the blessed sound
the piano plays the music
holy, torn from
heart...
Homage to pianist João Carlos
Martins and his extreme pain in the
extremities hands and fingers...
Eld bereft hotel
unpainted doors, faded walls
only past is guest...
the philosophy
is a sad eld lady
sans colors on the face...
only comments of morbidity
and pain... that's all,
and still insists...
of wonderful things
and bliss, it's useless
says nothing, just silences...
of the magnificence
of love, only life
is the one who proves it...!
I don't put the body
in any hole or touch as...
I'm eld monkey...
ELD MAN
The old man has a heart attack today
with the pleasures that
yesterday conquered with
the heart...
MAGNET
boy!
enjoy this one of yours
heart-magnet that attracts
female hearts before
to demagnetize...
KID
child is an old man
that left him to stay
in a time that we
call future...
DIAMOND
he is a naughty boy
that risks scratching the windowpane
without breaking the glass...
RAINBOW
It's a colored bow
made of a dream...
that connects the earth
to paradise...
I'm the same as the sea,
don't conceive eld and tired...
I'm always
involved with wave...!
creating novelties !
!
I'm now on pinnacle
of prestige...living between
artists, poets and thinkers...
i wish to die the way i was born,
between them... however :
My story is summarized is this:
eld too much for
to be an infant, and too young
to pass it on...
The blank page just waits
that we fulfill it out, but nothing charges...
moden writing or an eld work
it can be raw reality or chimera,
it welcomes our text
accepts us engaged or out of context...
All antique memories of the eld fort
where braves fought too meet glory
angels still sing their deaths
In the world everything mutates,
the scene of the earth,
the design of the world,
the color of the sea,
the texture of the soil,
the slope of the hill,
the sky of the day,
the glow of the night,
the desert city,
the desert in the ocean,
the sweetness of honey,
the bitterness of pain,
the taste of desire,
our wildness,
our unconsciousness,
the age of eld age,
the youth of the fresh,
the bottom of the depth,
the end of the beginning,
the beginning of the end,
the existence itself...
Things transform, everything passes,
less what remains...
And what is...!?
We don `t realize yet... !
neo eld socialism
mixed eld neo liberalism
only web spiders
Dying is highly difficult,
no one should be born,
just to die...
life should be so young
and that could never got aged...
Death should be so eld,
that I should never die...
I have deep mania
for my black shoes
detached from the soles, with
dirty soil of the earth...
My faded shirt
sweaty from my tiredness...
My shorts almost worn
by the smear of life and the
eld machine washes...
I love these things and when i leave
this site, is my primal heritage
of my longing and presence...
So I ask myself:
will they miss me...!?
To the elderly, I novel
I advise the eld age
to live life...
just how they
advise me
Learn to live... !
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