Overcast skies,
mourning doves crooning,
cars gliding slowly
across soaked asphalt.
Wisps of steam
rise from your teacup,
raindrops streak
down the half-open windows
of the screened-in porch —
pooling on the sills and
trickling from the gutters.
The world grinds to a halt,
just for this moment.
Breezes blow in
through the insect screens,
rustling branches
and carrying
wafts of petrichor
that connect you
to the world you swore
you’ve escaped from.
A few more minutes
out here
couldn’t hurt.
Hastiness will not reward you,
consider me
a long-term
investment.
It’s out of your hands.
Watch for the clues —
I can attest,
slowly but surely
a transformation will take place
under your nose.
Time molds the novice
into the master,
the bud into the rose —
we have it in spades,
yet rarely do we spare it
and often we wish
things would simply move along,
what a waste.
I will teach you
to allow this,
my ways are stark,
yet instructive —
I am a hot stove.
If you partake before I am ready,
you will find little to smile about.
Wash your mouth out,
and wait patiently.
Get on with your life,
return to me
with more perspective,
I’ll make it worth your while.
You’ll be safe in here,
that’s my promise to you.
This is not a cage,
It’s your space; your stage,
your opportunity to show everyone
who you are.
So well constructed,
that you could never be replicated
in the tumult of nature.
So inculcated we are,
to believe the inherent worth
of the spontaneous.
Be still,
I will water your succulents
sparingly,
to keep them from drowning.
I will make changes
as the days go by,
you can trust me
with the maintenance.
You’ll stay by the windowsill
so you too can see the light.
The world outside this jar
is cold; it’s unforgiving
its unpredictable.
You needn’t worry
about the chaos outside,
I have given you peace,
protection,
stability —
in return just be yourself for me,
we’ll call it even.
Please
don’t fret,
but
If you’re hoping that it
gets easier from here,
I’m sorry to say
it doesn’t.
Yet,
I appreciate your cooperation,
bear with me while I
get my life together.
Just because I’m a “smart device”
doesn’t mean I have all the answers.
I hope it doesn’t stay like this forever.
I’m spiraling but
I’ll find my way
someday —
I’m positive.
I’ll run a diagnostic.
Am I plugged in?
I seem to be.
Am I powered on?
Yes.
Am I obsolete?
Maybe.
Have I been corrupted?
Wouldn’t you like to know.
Here,
I’ll Google the problem for you.
One of us isn’t playing with a full deck.
Uhh,
pay no attention
to the blue screen.
Please call your service provider.
They’ll take it from here.
Thank you for choosing Dependable Computing!
Arranged meticulously,
posed purposefully,
captured faithfully —
life not as it happened,
but a skillful composition.
Sliced pomegranate,
with a few loose jewels nearby,
a vase full of poppies,
wine glasses half full,
a fresh loaf of bread
a steak knife flanking
an empty plate.
We stand on the outside
looking in,
a window to a moment,
forever undisturbed —
not life as it once was,
just an arrangement.
Take this with you,
only in memory,
no flash photography.
Stay with me, please.
You’re always on my mind.
I don’t care
when you go hide,
or wander far and wide,
scratch the curtains
or knock my glasses
off the table.
Take your time,
I know you’ll be back.
I feel you with me always,
When you’re nuzzled with me
I am stable
once again.
Stay with me please,
because you’re my friend.
I am tamed once I see you–
how little you do for me,
my favorite freeloader.
To every need, I will tend;
you can feed yourself,
bathe,
and live your life without me,
but I’ll do it all — all for you,
that’s what I choose.
Please stay,
you’re always on my mind.
We stand
In long shadows,
passing through,
passing through,
they’re silent
Wanderers,
adrift, going where they’re taken.
Currents in the void
have shifted;
you’ll never see them again.
Mutters echo softly,
barely audible,
across the way.
Look them in their eyes,
they will not acknowledge.
As surely as time flows,
they will not stay.
Who are you?
Who are you?
I cannot say.
No one knows,
but they all ask
the same of you.
Chack
Goes the cue ball,
as it breaks
the tenuous structure
at the start of the game.
We collected these balls,
and set them here
for specifically this purpose.
The purposive percussion,
can have unforeseen side effects,
such as scratches,
shouting matches
or, at worst,
the 8-ball finds a way
to lose you the whole affair.
But with precision and care,
the collisions
and chain reactions you hope for,
carry you through.
A game of pool revitalizes the night.
It brings joy and energy,
that escalates,
as each ball finds its way to a pocket,
out of sight
but not out of mind.
All from the predictable instability
at its outset.
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Winds of change,
carry me away,
I will spiral
as I ride the currents,
to still waters,
to green pastures.
The gale will wail,
but I will not falter,
it’s fury will take me
somewhere new,
I have faith.
I will put down roots,
I will stand as tall as I can,
from midsummer,
through first frost
but, here, I cannot stay.
Winds of change,
I will follow your lead,
I fear no obstacle,
you have carried me above them.
Though you have set me down,
I will not rest,
The sun sets in the West,
I will face East,
and take in the morning light,
no matter the hand I’m dealt.
Winds of change,
carry me away,
I wish to see the world,
carry me away.
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A light touch,
can really pluck
the heart strings.
My heart sings,
at the opportunity,
to practice with you.
But I, at times, am Icarus
too ambitious-
too inconsistent
with the placement of my fingers.
But vigorous no doubt,
My hope is that practice makes me perfect,
I can fine-tune this
day by day,
I just hope the neightbors
have nothing to say.
As they have their privacy,
so do we,
we’ll keep our sour notes
and symphonies,
all to ourselves.
The File Pile 