I'm the Invisible Hand at Topsy and Invisible Head of the Collaborative Creativity Group. This is just a place where I leave my stuff.
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too much poetry escapes me. next post will be picture-and-story, the official theme of this blog. but first:
“gasping”
you left me gasping
like a fish out of water
the sun eclipsed
the moon erased
from the sky, stars
twinkled no more;
at night, only the tap
kept dripping.
drip. drop.
you left me gasping,
like a fish out of water yet now
in separate glinting mountain streams
we frolic again
towards the joined oceans beyond.
No Comments | Tags: thoughts
słoneczko, zonnetje
rayon de soleil
she’s a ray of sunshine
in many languages
no clouds have permits
to amble past
that patch of sky
rain may not pass
but to make rainbows
for her smile, her wrists
smell of mogra flowers.
running out of memory!
or is it disk space;
my darling squirrel
she eats gigabytes,
for lunch.
No Comments | Tags: poetry, thoughts
i am discussing clustered hardware infrastructure at my new startup. there is poetry in everything, even in replicated servers with solid state drives… but this poem is about something else.
The room looks like a war zone
dusty carpet strewn
paper tissues underwear a lonely sock.
And, nesting in a pile of used towels,
those missing spectacles.
A battered typewriter
sulks, neglected
on the desk.
The reek of cigarettes would have
camouflaged the smell of sex, but
you don’t smoke any more…
What bomb exploded here,
that weekend?
5 Comments | Tags: poetry, thoughts
They searched me thoroughly,
in Paris.
Take out liquids. Electronics. Valuables.
Off with that belt. Shoes, too! Here,
let’s swab you for chemicals.
Empty your pockets! Put all power supplies
on a separate tray.
Yes, they searched me thoroughly,
those Parisians.
Yet they couldn’t find you…