Staring match, between
binary and flesh
a cursor blinks, insistently
daring me, teasingly
matching its blink
to my unsteady pulse
aching fingers
anticipation contained
and I simply, wait
yesterday
a new thread awoke
I was excited, yet conditioned
by experience’s calluses
so I merely caressed it, tentatively
for there’s nothing known
to existence, as ephemeral
as inspiration, idea, spark, muse -
all labels for creativity, demoted
to realms of tangible,
as ever, pixelated white of blank
jostles confidences, indifferently
every beginning
like a cyclically regressive, nightmare
back to youth’s sweaty, anxiety
that gym or assembly hall
once beacons of schooling, salvation
now jail cells of inevitably
to racing Time’s, betrayal
one desk, one chair
and that pristine, blank paper
awaiting like porcelain
oppressive, in its flawless state
mocking
with its indecent silence
back then, exam paper trepidation
now, Word document emptiness
mocking us, with each cursor blink.
Thought beckons, thought
almost as if, meditative sleepwalking
recalling - retracing, movements
prior to this blossoming
of imaginative awakening
a hint
is gleaned
eventually
and this soliloquy, symphony
of poetic artistry
begins, one word
one syllable, one
alphabet
at a time, digging
digging, digging
with that trusty QWERTY
shovel
in history, they, did it
with rock on rock
or scraping on wood
inking on leather
whatever, it took
Seamus Heaney, held a gun
made of pen, squat
spurned-on by his father’s
unfulfilled artistic, ambitions
now sweating to ink, a lifetime
shovelling as legacy
my cursor watches
this archaic art of typing
one letter at a time
taking a deep sigh
I study my racing words
to match my fingers
speed limit
one letter, one word
one poem
I type, we type
to give voice
and seek understanding
to this wonder, called living.
© L. B. Mek
January 2022
-
Author:
L. B. Mek (
Offline) - Published: November 21st, 2022 03:21
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 52
- User favorite of this poem: Poetic Dan.
Offline)
Comments7
“I type, we type
To give voice
And seek understanding
To this wonder, called living.”
That is the ever blinking cursor in the heart of every wordsmith. Thank You, LB.
indeed, so true
thank you! kind Poet
.... just wow... goosebumps on top of my goosebumps just the way it ended... keep shining that beautiful unique shine of yours!
Thanks for sharing and the journey
Amen!
promise to give it all I have brother, if you
promise me the same
then we can have a beer on the other side
each
baggage-less n empty of regret's, chains...
thank you! so glad you enjoyed this one
Yes brother
never a cursory glance
that blinkin' cursor
wouldn't stand a chance
keyboard's clacking, prance
oh how deep, and I have to agree
'Never!
a cursory glance'
and we do like to prance away
on that keyboard of true freedom's
playground!
lol
thank you! dear Poet
what a great comment
Wow! Very imaginative write. Kept me spellbound through its entirety. But now I can't stand my bloody cursor. It's going to drive me mad. Your poem is well constructed, expressed, and true to its mission. I cannot bear to look at that little arrowed sucker any longer. Thank you. You have made my day. - Phil A.
lol
inflaming wars between Poet's and their 'cursor's, as curse'
this is so poetic, a snap portrayal of my life
that gap between intent and pitifully warped outcome...
(I joke my friend, just glad you enjoyed the read)
thank you!
Hey Mek, I know it might sound like a cop out, but I find myself agreeing with every single word MendedFences27 aka Phil has already said ......... Neville
still appreciated, as-if being read for the very first time
and to be fair, you could just type a literal dot (.)
and it would still bring a smile to my face, my friend
Wow, deep, sophistication.
Wonderful work LBM!
how you humble me, kind Poet
I'll keep chipping away at it
hopefully before my time is done
I can squeeze out its full potential..
thank you!
Epic in its nature. I loved the lines "now jail cells of inevitably to racing Time's betrayal" "digging, digging, digging with that trusty QUERtY shovel" This piece takes a hypnotic approach on a journey through and to the minds eye. The pacing was wonderful.
How very kind, I like that interpretation
'hypnotic'
has its place in inking, as a quality or trait
I think, lol
thank you! Happy New Year dear cherished Poet
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