Tag Archives: poetry

Looking for needles – Poem

I look for needles in arrays of…

What?

Was there ever a pattern?
Did I have it all queued correctly at one point, or was that only what I was told?
When creating the bookmark, the to-do list, the reminder, the play list.
Pixilated troops shove me.
Toward tables of hasty content

Irritated, frustrated, powerless, cleverly manipulated.
Voluntarily bending over.

I negotiate untaught patterns,
While sidestepping road signs,
Obscuring whatever view there might have been.

They block my avatar from posting correctly.
My questions.

Overload.

Overload.

You shout “Find your way!”
But you second guess me,
Say you believe in me,
And ten thousand others,
Just as unique as me.
How lucky must I not be?

You annoy me.
You irritate me.
You advice me to be what I would never be.

Banners, directions, arrows, commands
You block my view but insist on intruding.

For my sake?
I don’t think so.

I don’t remember…

…privacy.

Cluttered avenues, Nested paths, numbered maps.
No road in sight.
Spiders inspect streams; analyze virtually everywhere I’ve been.
On demand.

For my well-being?
I don’t think so

Bugs. Everywhere bugs.
I see no life

Words, everywhere words.
I see no plot

Where is the synopsis, the cover letter, the correct format, the author bio?

On facebook?

I don’t think so

On the grill

On the grill

This is a page of constant confusion.

In case you haven’t noticed I never quite know what I’m doing.

but hey, it’s a space evolving,a mutation or two is part of the problem solving.

Perhaps it will some day give me a nominal absolution.

For past sins and current atrocities where I bite off heads.
and Kick them with a solid soccer agility I’ve practiced.

With friend as well as foe.

Oh “humbug”, you squeal in huffy indignation as you bounce, once, then twice and land on top a hotbed of coals.,.

“Why are you so cruel, you maggoty stew of unpredictable emotion?”

You stare blankly, tilted to one side, no doubt it’s dizzying to be skewed, skewered, placed on a grill.

But I have no empathy for sissling meat, in a way it always makes me ill.

I turn from your bobbin, throbbing sobbing part removed.

But as staring turns boiling but nonetheless so frank next to the hot spicy jumbo dog.

I start to snicker, to giggle, to convulse in despair-like hysterics.

But what can I do but excuse my actions and rinse out my gum with bleach.

Sorry I bit off the top of your being but please let me turn you to releave you from seeing.

Perhaps I could add a little bit of tomato, zucchini, a pinch of paprika.
To cover the burning hair reek.

ah.

I have insulted you plenty I’m sure but tasty you will be with a side-dish of mutilated cabbage I know.

Let me get back to my website of constant confusion.

I’ll leave you to simmer as I give this poem its attribution.

Yes, I admit.

this was totally inspired by one of my favorite stories on Protagonize This Tragic Infection ” (by SeeThomasHowl) on Protagonize, a creative writing community.
Wonderful collaborative work, funny as hell, skillfully written by several different protagonize authors. Absolutely fantastic creation.