Monday, March 29, 2010


March 25th, 2010

Why do Lost loves

come to find friendship

after years since the drama

had died? Resurrected are

the pains

and joys of those days

repainted into modern art

In sweet vignette


Impressionism reigns

in the remembering.

The rights were wrong

And the wrongs much worse.

In the airing

Dust is stirred from

Last season’s crops of memory.

Like Bakersfield

We struggle for clarity

In the rationale

Of words




We feel our story

A great one.

We were actors

And our friends the viewers,

But the audience is gone

And the words are electronic.

Is the remembering also digital?

1s and 0s now stand in

for the analogue life

of the last second

and all moments before that

to the first instant of time.

The feelings lose not their wells,

Only many have been covered,

unavoidability forgotten,

or purposefully maintained

For the day when their source should return;

Cannons well tended for war.

Their waters can also be kept to teach

Of mistakes well made

And triumphs too little exalted,

Waters from blood turned baptismal,

From cannons will flowers be fixed

The growth of a life in the utmost.

Friday, March 26, 2010


Are you comfortable with computers

With all their ram computing?

Are you comfortable with monitors

With all their light progressing?

Are you comfortable with yourself?

Do you not have parts also moving?

Nuerons for conductors

Nerves for metal wires

Lack of rest for slow processing

Flesh bodies for plastic cases

Brains for hard disks

Déjà vu for ghosts in the machine.

Heart attacks for blue screens of death

Cancer for Trojan viruses

Social norms for standard protocols.

Organ transplants for hardware upgrades

Continuing education for system updates

People's buttons for a keyboard's

Waste for recycling bins


for sleep.

Computers enact responses within

While we enact ours from without.

Reality like inputs

Interpreted, understood and responded to

By electrons through neural pathways

And chemical agents with synapses

to muscle fibers and movement

of matter through time and space.

Emotions shown in 1080p

On the monitor of our eyes

By the projector of our actions

In the space of virtual memory.

While our actions differ

in scale, source, and format,

the one thing uncoded

is virtue.

Such routines result

in heaven and hell,

Bit depths that binary can’t reach.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Like Driving East in the Morning

July 22nd, 2009

I left too early to see my way,

Light obscuring sight,

But more obscured by my lusting,

Insatiable to reason

Or the right time of day.

People say the future holds hope.

In bounding toward it I saught to see

It’s length

And by that, multiply.

In great speed

It was lost.

Having arrived first

I plowed more wrong than right

And came to a place more diminished than home.

The burden of the rabbit.

Take time to learn

from the tortoise, brothers,

before your life becomes a sprint

and you are waiting in the stands

with the oppression

and pains

of your feet’s selfish strides.

Monday, March 1, 2010

In the Art of Walking

May 15th, 2009

I take great pride.

I can go anywhere I want

At no great speed

Much to my enjoyment,

The progression of my feet

One after the other

And so repeat

Until to a destination I arrive.

A series of finite points

Creating the line of a journey.