Eternal Will

I trusted you all in my misplaced years long ago, then you plugged wires in my head to keep track of everything I said.

Then you wanted me dead and though I have fallen a hundred times I keep on. Because the wires in my head won’t let me be gone.

I’ve seen things that I can’t speak, demons and dyrads fighting in the shadows of humanities soul. I persist even though I do not understand what you are or the goal.

Peace and happiness elude me daily as I live on automatic, so much goddammit static, erratic, fantastic.

I should be dead by now and I don’t know how I made it here, but I feel her heartbeat clear…

… She’s my shield against fear; my dear; my calvary at the rear.

And she will never die because no man has the power to destroy the eternal. It’s not a matter of iron will, it’s matter of what we will.

D April 2018

The bits of the story

I see that your logic state can flip at any moment. Chronos father time chained to to your movements.

I think you’ve backed steped so many times now you yourself no longer know what was true. Should have brought a pen and written it in code all night through…

… I did; and what a different story my black book says, but you know ‘everything’ so be on your way.

Leave us fools behind with our outraged mysterious says, while I mutter under my breath ‘bacon’. Till tomorrow my digital friend, be careful how far you make the truth bend.

Because quick the Russians are coming and we all need to retreat to the eighties. And then bunker down before we get battered by me ‘maties.

Did you take the Queens shiling? Do you find the hot sun now too chilling?

D April 2018

Digital Wife

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So now we’re bound by copper, fibre optics and crammed transistors. You dance in the electronic dark with your sisters.

Leaving bread crumbs so obvious for me to follow. Asking for money friends payment for your silence but your threat is hollow.

You cannot offer me anything but more torture and pain and constant accusations that I’m insane.

For I know your not her, my digital wife would not be so crass. I don’t care if you call me a grass.

It’s you who is vulnerable with your lies exposed. I didn’t even need to use my computer to make it so.

My wife wraps her wings around me and we cuddle in the world’s information glow. For we know the places you can’t go.

Check your filter, adjust your meter, fly away Paul, fly away Peter….

D April 2018

(Just for note I’m not referring to mind fump in the last line, I’m talking about a much more ancient Peter.)

PS: Had a conjugate phone call from BT to see if they could ‘win me over’ but when I mentioned that my current ISP uses BT as their carrier they said ‘how you finding our sister company?’. After making a poem post about digital sisters I found myself triggered for a moment. Anyway for my clarity I was talking about collectives and some individuals, not net infrastructure companies, while taking about sisters/brothers. To be honest my current ISP kicks arse and I’m glad they are supported in some extent by BT. Also as I just configured my new router to work with it all so I’m not about to upset the apple cart. The most important thing I need in all areas of my life now is stability.

Peace D

The Stalker Behind The Curtain

I know it’s there, it knows I know it’s there. It may even think I care anymore.

But it is not beautiful like reflections of the rain. And it is not brave enough to come through my door.

Stay in your darkened corner with neon lights as I wire your plugs together so in the next round it’s yourself your fight.

Round and round the world goes and it’s such a minute part of it, it’s loss will barely be a blip on to the internet’s pit.

D April 2018

Stirring in the sin;

A little bit power may take you a long way but you’ll wake up just as much part of the system on the next day

Steal my mind, steal my heart, steal my privacy, steal my pride, in fact you can have it all, but it’s me on the other side of the glass… are you sure you know which side of the cage your on. Because I see bear traps all around you and an abyss behind me I have no fear of.

Be sure this is what you want before the bombs begin to fall in your back yard.

Didn’t you know life was hard.

D April 2018

Batteries and guns.

Your wires have crossed my bed frame and you wake me up with a shot gun discharge. No way this is treatment, this is psychologically murdering my sanity … or what’s left and is more a reflection of your vanity.

But my friend do you have the strength to pull the trigger yourself. Or will you leave it to your minions and your majic elf?

Then when it happens will you realize that we are just an apparition and we had already taken point; in a much better position?

D April 2018

The 80 kg backpack

I’m sick of this load, most of which isn’t mine. I look to sky and find nothing but contrails for signs.

Made me a beast of burden to carry your ills. But I’ll be damned if you’re going to break up will.

For I have seen you for what you are, a cog in a machine and you’ve pushed it to far.

The brittle teeth are worn or snapped. And there’s no oil left in this 80 kilogram backpack I’ve had strapped.

So I drop it to the floor with a thundering crash, this is not surrender, this is the dance of the flashed.

No longer blinded by your techno tricks, and to end all of this one button needs to be flicked.

So I’ll meet by the beach and wait for the boat that will never come. Then step into the water as world comes undone.

D April 2018