"They got electric chairs there - just your size" ~ Mick, in The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers
Just Your Size
A child awakes with eager eyes,
hoping for a Christmas surprise.
The sun rises on God's glory,
a body in an abandoned quarry,
and an electric chair...just your size.
When Chairs Went Electric
Back in nineteen sixty-five
When I sat down, I stayed alive -
I wouldn't be sent to Hell.
Oh, how I remember well -
furniture was not eclectic
when chairs went electric.
Orientations of universal laws
The spiral vortex an awareness of sight
Tale told when scene a beam of light cut with saw
A perception of mind is like a star shinning bright
Vector in alignment is arc that does bow
Alpha Omega between the Beta write
Independent this unique biosphere
Mass of enlightenment within each tier
An electronic trance of light and sound
tempering the charged air between us,
all at once my heart starts to pound.
Distracted briefly by the background
that is more of a target than a fuss,
an electric trance of light and sound.
Apprehension in an instant drowned,
there is something we must discuss.
All at once my heart starts to pound.
To be your queen I must be crowned,
addicted to the friction I’m delirious.
An electric trance of light and sound.
Debris is wiped with a shot downed,
instant palimpsest is so mysterious.
All at once my heart starts to pound.
With the knowledge I’m forever bound,
I drift closer so breathtakingly curious.
An electric trance of light and sound,
all at once my heart starts to pound.
I don't want to be a processed human
warm thumpads on click screen
cant put my hands in my pcokets
pockets filled with sand
cup of dirt by my table
Orange fire tree, a beauty, shivers in gray
I am not aware of me
when nature bears to see its swaying leaves
there's glory in the metal squeak of a guitar string
feel dead wood, relief, plastic wrapped child roses
Smell the green on harvested before bloom
The blood crust on my ear
monstrous scratching between straw hair of a dead scalp makes me want to rip skin out
Ocean water take me there but i hear electric of cars every step
bushes square
trees baby leaves
bloomed too late to turn green
Watch a movie set in italy you feel the vibrations of the screen
make your face red; silent scream
pop ups, plastic warmth
cling to the radiator through polyester, spine compressed and half your bed taken by an amass of wires and clunk: heavy mess to project reality
My veins pump blood spray when cut
I'm a real human transmitting consciousness through things i never knew
drained my energy in this scry mirror: to be human is selfish, AI helps with all but takes root to steal yourself and sell it back to you
Holes in my face opened a new me,
sickness and disaster on my mind,
brain dead where did it all go,
ask the powerful rains in the dark sky,
Run underneath the rainbow who am i now,
i wanted to be someone here and forever,
lonely wolf that is me eating my pray,
transformation in the sky i see my new face
i have become periodic entity
inside the electric thunder
i have melted into the rain drops,
I've met the earth all over again,
brain with the Cain and dart in the heart.
Simulation
Electric, terrifying
Planning, finding, using
Terror, scooter, pavement, road
Needing, getting, stopping
Loud, immediate
Assessment
How could I have planned to use it again when I remember finding it purely terrifying?
No practice on the pavement, immediate terror on the road.
How did I think I was going to get to my hospital placement on one of those scooters without needing the hospital myself?
It felt like I couldn’t stop if I needed to,
But I somehow got home after the simulation speech assessment
Where I was told I spoke too loudly,
Recommended to install a delayed auditory feedback app.
We are charged and driven,
dying to be
imprinted onto whiteness,
the minds dark ink
reprinted in endless new editions.
Some call this poetry,
how we are compelled to rehearse
deathbed scenes torn from our youth,
then others tell nothing at all,
but tap to unwrap
a brief and breathless thought.
Now we are this electric signaling
upon the lids of space-boards -
open casket viewings,
our penny-weight eyes,
rising to a world where a life
can be replayed once more.
Electric loneliness.
Took a look at me like syrup.
Neurons attached to nothing-stems.
In the brain shaped way, I tried.
Took a ride like syrup sings.
Attached to my life…
And my brain is cobblestones.
With shoes made of witch’s cauldrons.
Electric loneliness.
Took me far.
Gravity gives me a pat on the back.
Songs made of table legs.
Everything I tried turned to legs.
Life of a brain’s shadow…
Electric loneliness.
Made up of centipedes.
Not in the way you’d think.
In a network-way.
Electric loneliness.
Neurons tapping away.
This is the best description that I could give myself
I'm always that person who sticks my neck out to help
I would listen to the problems of someone that I love
I would try to solve the problem if talking wasn't enough
Im not anyone's friend I'm more of an outlet
I never seem to recognize this from the outset
I've never appeared like the person in need
They never take the time to ask and to see
There are times when I sit back and question my value
Wondering if I'm a friend or someone being used
I often wonder what causes a person to choose me
In comparison to others what would my value be
If they see me as they see everyone else
A dusty book alone on a cluttered shelf
Or do they value my friendship like its gold
Instead of someone they can come to drop their load
Being an electric outlet doesn't seem fair
I appear disposable because I'm always there
You think people think twice once they unplug from the socket
Not when they have a charged battery in their pocket
There’s no such thing as electricity.
As the wheel churns with no power at all.
Not magic, just a lack of pondering so much.
The things that shock us into a state of being or worse.
The spinning is fast enough to grind anything at all.
But it only destroys the questions.
There’s no such thing as thoughts.
If they were real, they’d be electric thoughts with a microphone shouting out.
But instead, we live stale.
Would be against us but we are too nothing-like.
An electric thought that could pass on.
Without the breath of anger.
Which makes us live longer days.
There’s no such thing as electricity.
That wheel rotates, creaks, and groans.
Nothing splatters.
Just tiny sounds like-
Metal against pavement.
There’s no such thing as electricity.
Don’t think about it.
And maybe you won’t get pulled under.
L-5 and S-1—
Vertebrae pain is no fun;
Intense, searing burn,
And sharp electric shock zings—
Such unwanted, nasty things.
They're selling tickets
to the execution
front row ringside seats
for an electrocution
there for the thrill of the kill
ghouls who want to watch him fry
who knows why they're compelled
to view condemned die
God forgive the man
who throws the switch
which pulls the plug
makes criminals twitch
he and Old Sparky
are best of friends
lighting up felons
to the bitter ends
but what kind of everyday
man in the street
for hire volunteers to pyre
people in the hot seat
Torchlight burns low
Currents spark inside my chest
Shadows light the dark
In my dream, a welcome sight
You come to see me overnight
We cuddle up, you're on my lap
But not to rest or take a nap
I smell your Baccarat perfume
A scent that sends me to the moon
What Happens Next, Always, Bluebird
A whispered kiss that's barely heard
Perceived, a graze, I barely touch
My lips to yours, not obvious
Just close enough, the juices flow
A pulsing current starts to grow
Don't rush now, patience, let it build
A slow burn leads to being thrilled
Let's take our time, it's not a race
Allow me to control the pace
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