ten hours

I cannot comprehend the thinking of others,
their symbolics and demarcations,
dressed in their effete stigmata,
flowing in Babel’s river
to the sea.

And now it’s my turn
to ask the questions.

What was tokenized?
What was taken
by whom and when?

Are they androids, and am I?

But I won’t face the truth,
only transform it, and if I do
it will be the day before yesterday,
forever.

~/~

When it storms outside, the weather
transgresses my brittle defenses,
already crazed with cracks
and sealed with flour and water.

When I hold myself a certain way,
translaterally, it means I’m caught
in the shimmering web of pointlessness,
wandering through the wisps of whisper grass
in pensive futility, in formless pensitivity,
where the unstructured cannot wear away
the sharp edges of unforgetting.

I know now that I was never the survivor.

The one who was, in glorious independence
of sodden desire, is amused at my
ten hours of coffee shop background
on looping playback, its clinking crockery
and murmured conversations.

When someone is reduced to static,
willfully a shadow in a crowd, they’re lost to us.
For those who were in that coffee shop:
a strange immortality.


artwork

A River and Other Symbols, NikonD90 photo evolved by the visual evo engine, my software that seeks unimagined realms.  8K original image = 4 UHD screens, from the ultracubist engine. Art on Instagram four days per week.

purpose of reality

The Purpose of Reality short story and poetry volumes are now available for preorder at the Meerkat. They come with bonus digital artwork. Here is the link.

10 thoughts on “ten hours

    • Thank you so much for coming over to read it, Tamaya. 🧡 I miss your work. I’m pretty much focussed on instagram now, It seems to be the way to go for me. Tik Tok is out of the question. 😸

    • Thank you, I appreciate the feedback. Yes, I have my moments of frustration, disappointment, anger… Fortunately they’re fleeting. The coffee shop recording is one I play occasionally, I used to write in coffee shops.

    • Thank you, Paul. 🙏 I’m hoping to be more honest next month, assuming I post something. I used to do a lot of my writing in coffee shops in various countries. Once in Japan I wanted a decaf, and a waitress took me outside and directed me to another coffee shop that had it, very kind I thought.

  1. The image reminds me bamboo scaffolding (which, I’ve learned, is widely used in Hong Kong). I suppose that’s what it would look like during a bamboo shortage. 😊

    Had to look up both “effete” and “stigmata”. What a thought-provoking combination.

    The whole universe is a coffee shop. Coffee smells better than it tastes, so I wouldn’t mind being a shadow in the background as long as my sense of smell is intact. 😉

    Enjoyed the “pensive futility” of this piece, Steve.

    • Thank you so much for your kind words,Magarisa. 🙏 I wanted the art to look a bit that way, and barely holding together. 😸

      I agree about coffee, love the aroma especially in the morning, and I only drink decaf which is rather bitter.

      I have the odd day of pensive futility, but thank goodness they’re not all like that.

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