My Place on the Internet(s)
Start with a name,
one of my names,
and a place on the internets¹
I claim with an electric spike
for myself and you.
Throw down the words and images,
the gauntlets and white gloves,
the deliberations and indecisions
of how far I go or how far I haven’t.
Cast the ways, we’re castaways.
We’re travellers on the same road.
Heed the sign posts and mutterings
of maddened prophets.
Grab a magic marker
and make your own signs.
Label me². Draw a line
from neck to navel and lower.
Label yourself and instruct
or detract a truth.
Frame the moment of each other
and hang us on a wall.
Glimpse never and always.
Feel familiar and otherworldly.
Unexpectedly expect.
Stubbornly relent.
Right? Write.
Learn the pace of procrastination
up to the lightning steps of connection.
¹ A Bushism that I can’t stop using.
² Thanks to Seizui for the labels post and discussion.




May 1, 2008 at 11:08 pm
“Glimpse never and always.” I love the last stanza but the first line just captures my imagination and heart. The whole stanza has such a live texture to it. I like the referrences to others too.
May 2, 2008 at 7:54 am
“I claim with an electric spike…” AWESOME imagry.
May 2, 2008 at 8:31 am
Awwww . . . Thanks for the shout-out.
I love you, sir; I said I love you!!!
May 2, 2008 at 11:00 am
Love this poem…
I like the line about the “maddened gods.”
May 3, 2008 at 12:58 pm
The electronic consciousness
Bids me say in public
The things I dare not say in private.
The split being says “hello” in code
11011110100011101010
Will you be there tomorrow? In five minutes?
Forever?
Only as long as the electronic wonder lasts,
and no one deletes you . . .
or pulls the cosmic plug.
May 4, 2008 at 3:30 pm
Obviously my blog isn’t that deep as yours is, Sid! lol
I liked the labels part too of course.
Although for me to say that I wouldn’t want to be labeled “gay” is ludicrous, since I don’t think there is a straight bone in my body – well – except the fact that I like to watch pro football……oops!!!
Interesting how the defined the “internets” usuage. Dubya used it not to be humorous, but just because he’s a clod. I use it to emphasize his .. errr .. cloddiness (lol)
May 5, 2008 at 10:39 pm
All – thank you, you’re most kind. Poetry is not my forté (and my present state of mind is telling me that I don’t HAVE a forté).
Gret – I love this line:
“The butchest bone in his body belonged to someone else.”