Life goes quickly growing up from the use of a commodore 65.
Perforated print paper
Really takes your energy.
Fold and Tear!
Fold and Tear!
Every so often the edges
With the holes placed every millimeter amuse me for atleast five minutes.
Jump to ten years later as I sign up for my first email through AOL.
Still my main for sure contact or solid way for anyone to reach me, I stand firm in its support.
Life trickles down into o the earth’s core where warmth and safety from the information super highway can be found.
Wait, so what happens if polarity introverts?
Oh the earth shoots a bunny
When I worry I gather myself
I become a cat
A cat playing in pure instinct
Perched on a limb gazing
I become a tree
The blind growing skyward
Reaching high by millimeter
I become a leaf transpiring
Breathing drops of water
Rising with the morning air
I become a nimbus
Drifting far above cares
Till I rain down upon me
I become a sting of wetness
Reminding me I am the world
Worrying too much about me
The cat, the tree, the clouds
In me a quaternity
Banished by worry
Till I return to ok-ness
As the weather chooses its flavour for the hour,
Stubble-ended wood shaves itself on the layers of unseen ground.
Synthetic puke seeps through pores seeking to devour
Every tiny, curled hair floating in the murk around and around.
Pool party skies reside a millimeter higher than the tallest fingertip:
Leftovers infect this mass of last meals passed on.
A spindle of cloth runs out with time enough to graze my lip
And still no locks of winter-lived years could sink a single talon
Into the darkest dark of fleeting moments taken from a fork.
Shall this be all that has come from years after that first unscrewed cork?
I recall writing checks in my spidery crawl.
The TV then was a humming spaceship
with glowing innards that deep-scanned
all who glued their flickering, bug-eyed minds to it;
it abducted whole families at a time.
That same television
materialized microwaves as heavy as lead ingots
replacing bread bins
while ushering in decades of TV dinners.
“Radio Shack’ and “Block Busters’ were thriving
The short brutal war between Betamax and VHS
was long over.
Cars had not yet learned to speak.
Many men thought that learning to type
would be a waste of their valuable time.
We had to go out to get stuff.
Fish in fish tanks
were considered adult entertainment.
The long married kept their sex life
hid like a ‘sixteen millimeter’ movie
projected onto the back of their brains.
Camera film had to be sent away
to be often irretrievably lost.
The food pyramid was thought to be
the right way up – we were already fat-heads.
We trusted the nightly news.
Then the Net captured us,
we found we had many hidden talents,
some even discovered how to wriggle their ears
and both at the same time!
Ornate, high-brow holiday tree
oh, what you're doing to me
I squint in awe of your bold design
so exquisite, delicate, refined...
If only you were a millimeter taller
I'd buy you for a whole half-a-dollar
Skinny as Twiggy was in
Flat as a board
Not a millimeter sticking out
Not even her pout
Now it's all about curves
And 'bubble-butts'
Sticking out as far down there
As a dislocated jaw might jut
Friends, as far as this man's concerned
~ Either way, intimacy's spurned
hide and go seek
ring around the rosie
kick the can
and pin the tail you donkey
see if you can see
count
you big bambino
diapers
egg's
toilet paper
cruel
and unruly
measure
spirit's learning carpentry
on a tape
to the nearest millimeter
I am concerned with the structures that sustain the universe,
with the mighty river of time,
the tablature and the compass of souls
dispersed in their endless penances,
the enigmatic smile of doubts
overlapping the fragility of certainties,
the detestable silences that precede painful decisions
and with the thick amalgam of pain
that poisons our days with the most varied enigmas.
What worries me is the shock
when I wake up from the nightmare of living,
the need for millimeter precision
in counting the steps until the freedom of not thinking,
the innumerable precipices
that surround any and all will of the mind
to keep away from the fainting, falls and stumbles.
What I am concerned about
is the indifference of entities or deities
that could undo the deception of atoms
in condemning us to finitude,
constantly and habitually
expressing unmistakable signs of contempt
for creatures who have given them a supposed superiority
over their own destinies.
my concern is about the extension of the shadow
that negatively illuminates the path
we should follow under the light.
the rest don't worry me.
I
Remember Rahab "the harlot"
Gentile gone to God of Jewry
Jericho? She saw the light
I, too, iterate: God is Good
Choose correctly, pray patiently
Daily devotions, by people, prophets
II
Trust true Savior, Yeshua hameshiach
Don't delay: don't dally: pray
Patiently, faithfully, trustingly
Why go to men? Men may mend
Some things; God mends meaningfully
Go to Him, don't move a micro-millimeter
Spirit help me stay close; I move away
When I feel forlorn; He is still There
I sabotaged my eight-millimeter childhood.
I never knew Sartre
But I contorted my latex face,
Burying my nothingness in family films.
My child was scripted to be ugly, skipped over
In comic relief.
Only recognizable as Menoetius,
My only animation was insolence.
I believed nothing in myself,
I knew nothing.
I sought my masquerade in
Metaverse avatars,
Really just 2D analog shadows,
Swaying waves of gray on ashen tv tubes.
Without convictions, I was convicted.
My craven rudeness landed me
In squalid wreckage,
The debris of my dormant sea,
Forsaken a million or more times,
Rebuffed and scorned,
I succumbed to my dense exhaustion.
I shut down where sleep had no form,
Where space-time is an illusion.
Some hint of dream touched and aroused me.
Some anamnesis so much greater than any containment!
I awakened sweaty, wretched, and authentically flawed,
savoring the sudden phenomenal enigma,
Ready to learn the endless patterns
of all the passions and sciences.
Pondering God’s Power
Here on this much less
than a millimeter speck of space,
I imagine
the shape and size
of my soul, the depth
of my growing soul
held in God’s hands
and the astounding sight
it must take to see
frequent tears…
Pondering the scope,
the power of God choosing
to create or to eliminate;
to crush or to heal;
to wait and watch
or to intervene;
our protecting shepherd, our shield
in the cosmic war
of evil battling good…
the power of God
to reveal and to conquer;
to speed meteors;
to affect destinies;
to ask for obedience,
yet grace with free choice;
and, to touch when asked…
Rejoicing in the
power of God’s
Love-Held Sacrifice,
and the offering
of Hope within
Redemption…
The power of
Grace and Truth
Lives,
While we try to race
from out-reaching
shadows, so we
keep to flower-
bordered paths, and
the faint beauty
we sense
from beyond us
of choirs singing
“Alleluia”
…pulls us forth by Faith.
————————————————
(c) sally young Eslinger 9/20/21
Glory be to God
Nine parts of nine millimeter.
Trigger
Magazine
Barrel
Slider
Hammer
Main Spring
Recoil Spring
Extractor
Ejector.
Note. Violence breeds violence.
Miss Gunda moved into my house
she will be living here for several years
I do not know how long
but she is warmly welcomed
She is curious
the eyes moves from room to room
- spends a lot of time measuring every millimeter
Things suddenly disappear ...
yes even the charging cord for the phone
We are looking high and low
The issue is presented to Gunda
As a thief in broad daylight
of her good deeds, she admitted
Although she is guilty
I have found the best robot vacuum cleaner
... she does an fabulous work
and still live here
29/06/2021
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
We write so much...
So many cutting words,
so many surgical verses,
So much poetry of carnage!
Writings that look equal to
scalpels...they cut us
with millimeter precision...
Bloodletting untied.
You write so much...
so many pudding words
so many are delicacies
so many are ambrosia...
These we ate with nutrient
pleasure...
So many other words
are liqueur,
distilled,
aged...
these we drink with
almost lust...!
My beloved Coroline,
her spirit lies in myrtle grove ;
shrouded in white,
no inch , or millimeter does she move,
Oh my sweet Coroline.
My beloved Coroline,
Forgotten if I were to be, in agony so dire
to see you one more time, I pine..
I dally and tarry, I tire..
Oh my sweet Coroline.
My beloved Coroline,
wake up from your sepulcher,
forever you promised to be mine,
Copiously I doth yearn for ye..
Oh my sweet Coroline
My beloved Coroline,
where hast thou gone,
I long to see your brilliant shine,
you art my sweet sweet home,
Oh my sweet Coroline.
My beloved Coroline,
I doth remember our promise,
your voice were as sweet as vine,
Oh my sweet tempered Coroline,
forevermore yours Valentine.
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