To be ‘enlightened’ you must first realise that enlightenment is bullshit in the first place.
If you wish to further sophisticate yourself and emancipate yourself from your current form of humanity, become part of my harem by simply clicking the follow button.
The snowflake falls indifferent to it’s own impermanence
just as the greyed feather glides from its pyre
heedless to the swan that carried it
the world doesn’t mourn or care for all that we carry
and the wind screeches only what the listener tells it
Springs symphony stirs
but nothing compared to that which spurred
the machines to toil away
Clank, clank
never the hammer of a woodpecker
but the clang and bang of the extractors
the green has all but gone
no weeds to straggle the edges
no brambles for Jenny Wren to nest in
the fox lost its hunting ground
and the owl’s hoot grows ever-distant
perhaps they liken us to a storm that passes through
when they glance us in their beady eyes
but soon, they’ll learn the truth
we were asteroids
plummeting the earth to ruin
Look at us, our crimes loiter in the air
dangerous with intent
but we’ll carry on
skuttling along in our exoskeletons
It’s true, we haven’t really got much choice
so we speed along
looking out of our windows
we undo all that was said
every day
A great forgetting
making plastic hearts to preserve
the life force once organic
and in the stale breath of a museum
the heart of a whale
consumes us
as we pass
A reflection on what makes us human
fading fast
how can we know ourselves
when everything we are connected to is imprisoned?
We struggle with the world’s indifference
the percussion of rain only background noise to existence
no God breathing chance into the dice
everything just is
apart from you and I
carrying the world on our shoulders
breathless and tired
Is this what it is to be human?
‘Looks what way,’ shrugged Sisyphus
Dear Friends,
I am writing to you against my better judgment!
The family life didn’t last long.
It lasted as long as a dream, though I am almost sure it was real!
‘What shall we name her?’ Alice had asked me.
I was lying in the bed behind a haze of smoke from a cigarette that hung between my fingers. I wasn’t sure how it got there, I didn’t remember lighting it, and I didn’t remember drawing smoke from it either.
‘Spoon.’ I replied lazily.
Alice sprung from the bed like a cat, ‘Get Spoon out of your mouth!’
I looked at her through the smoke, ‘What’d you mean?’
‘I swear you love him more than me!’ She paced up and down beside the bed, ‘Maybe I should get them to bring him here, so he can keep you happy.’ She leant on the bed, reached out and lifted my chin with two fingers to make me look her in the eyes. ‘We are not calling our daughter after your lover!’
‘Yea, you’re right,’ I had said, ‘Especially if we did decide to use my surname.’
Alice bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes glazed over, ‘Is this a joke to you?’
‘I don’t know,’ I gestured round the room with my hand, ‘What the fuck any of this is!’
In some respects, being in a house that looked like one I could have back home on Earth was a comfort. But Alice being there and our…Daughter… I still can’t fathom that one…It made it all disconcerting.
I kept having nightmares where I’d walk through the curtains and take the baby out of the cot and peel the skin off her face; underneath were just wires and red lights.
But then, despite all signs of her being an android, blood would start to spill, and my hands would be covered in her blood.
Alice would walk in, and at the sight of me holding our daughter, bleeding in my arms, she’d let out a shriek so piercing that it could break glass.
‘What have you done?’ She’d scream at me, ‘What the hell have you done!’
And I would stand there and cry, looking down at my dead baby human/android in my hands.
It seems the Mammarians wanted Alice and I to play happy families, smaller Mammarians, like the little boobacious spiders, would come along holding a big device between their two front legs. Then, after a white flash, they’d be gone again. I can only presume that they were taking photographs.
But apparently, I needed to play families better for them.
Yet I was up at night doing the feeding occasionally, allowing Alice to rest. I burped her and changed her nappy. All the usual things a dad does. I pulled funny faces at her, and she laughed, and I laughed back.
Occasionally Alice and I tried to fornicate, but it was very hit-and-miss whether I could perform.
I must confess to you the times I did perform, I was picturing Spoon or some other man I once knew on Earth.
How much I miss the flesh of another human. I miss the birds and the bees, the squirrels chattering in the trees.
I miss the trees too! The velvety moss you could run your hands through, like running your hand through a man’s hairy chest.
I know we burdened the world; a lot had been lost before I was even born. But what was left counted to something, and I can only dream that maybe humans were letting things grow back since my abduction.
After what felt like eons I was picked up in another bubble cart and taken back to the fish tank.
I am still determining what else to add as of right now. I am still processing everything, so I guess that will be all for today.
Yours faithfully,
Holden Mcgroin.
There was a rustle
before it dipped, plopped and clinked
and the sound made me think
of our lungs laden with this tarred air
as the bottle rattled, one last breath
and I thought about the remains of us
littered among this plastic death
Do you ever stop to think
maybe there is no more room to grow?
we’re made small by this incessant need
always on the go
nothing is valued unless it can be sold
when we’re renting air
I won’t tell you what I told
We should be scared
but tomorrow’s tomorrow’s are too far to care
meditation teaches us to live in the moment
but the future is for sale
in a ruin of our own creation.
So I’ll take this breath now – glad it’s not tomorrow.
Bittersweet the aftermath
Now is inhospitable to our nostalgia
Tinted sephia in our minds eye
Tears trace the time we can’t have back
I was swallowed by the past
I’ve been no one since we fell off track
A wondering skeleton in the wreckage
Skin carved out in scars
A train wreck
Emptied of its corpse
No metamorphosis
Just a void
Where a boy used to be
I don’t want a breakthrough
I’m looking for a way to justify
Not making it through
Words are only cheap translations of the pain
And I won’t speak them anyway
I want to sugar-coat the truth
Make it seem like I ever cared to try
I’ve learnt the script
Heard the platitudes
All the while I’m looking for the exit
And all paths I tread
Lead to one moments epiphany
All those years ago
That I’ll never know what it is to be full
And the reckoning in my head
For I said ‘run, for godsake jump.’
But I just sat in the car instead.
‘You’re doing well,’ they say, to which I think
‘If this is doing well, then pass me the fucking gun.’
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 