Posts Tagged Isolation
Recursive Empty
Friday Afternoon at Costco
I know it’s
me — the people with
anger that
mangles my
nerves — attacked by carts, wanting
to curl down and die.
One Day There Was Betterment in a Tiny Auditorium
Children holding his
tablets, moving miniscule
planets. Forget my
past, he screams, slowly curing
needy pieces of dog fur.
America 2017, #7 & #8, Dead Factories Freezing My Worn Guts
Posted by Carl in Photography, Poems on March 2, 2017
These are not
the silly unem-
ployed, hidden
darkness ex-
ploiting
fear of dying stark-
ly alone, alone.
.
.
More Dystopia Today from Amateur Carl
America 2017, #6 — One Day I Was in the Old West in the Middle of An Abandoned Street
There is park-
ing in the rear, but
streets are emp-
ty, screaming
at me to stop short of life,
watch her wander by.
.
Another Dystopia Today picture from amateur Carl.
Two Days Ago, That Joy, So Repressed
Like a dog,
I stretch, legs brittle,
brain panting,
paws digging,
that joy, so repressed, hanging,
chained inside, broken.
How Might I Squash That Fear?
Later, I remem-
ber being stricken
by dread of
what they felt:
How much did they spy rummag-
ing beneath the crust?
Today, Briefly, Trying to Be Good
Posted by Carl in Finding Purpose, Poems on September 16, 2016
Forcing myself into the death chair,
thinking, now I’ve got it, now I will do
what it is I lie to myself about being
mandatory, feeling so disciplined when
really, I’m alarmed at how close to
nothingness I have become, and that
dark crevice where inspiration lies
is filled with contempt for being,
and the doctor might try, but the
required self hatred fills the hole.
Riffed Out of Easy
Listening to loud Middle
Class Rut, wishing I
could run away to
their fields of play.
Some things are simple,
blare with clarity,
and they’re impossible.
She Melts My Competitive Spirit
I was coaching my team,
winning handily.
She was coaching the other
team, and I loved her, so
I crossed the field, told her
how to work her players so she
could beat my team, as I knew my
weaknesses, and she beat us, and I
still loved her, still today, always.
Her merciless, innocent smile
still kneads my heart.
