Open Poetry #29 |
The Role Of Technology In Karmic Fulfillment |
icebox Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 4383in the shadows |
Your voice purrs into the deep electronic night; your presence shines crisply red in blinking light, the proper code releases all your sultry tones, reveals you in plain sight of my mind's weary eye where your image rests not aging through the many years unknown. I hear the rapture in your sigh; though I do not know if you were alone you were clearly comfortable feeling you own the self-proclaimed right to call me, or not, any time you want day or night. Sometimes, like last night hot and languid on one too many sips of wine, curled naked, sophisticated sex in the city in a pricey one night bed over Times Square, hinting you are mine if only I was there; sometimes in a rush, without apparent guile, like a child waiting too long running to the toilet spilling words out in a gushing jumble of excited pride, just taking my ear along for the ride. Sometimes I wonder if you remember calling me at all. You know, like out of sight out of mind, you slip through my phone number, a door to your own private dumping ground, and before you're gone you've shed your momentary thoughts, your peripatetic passions spilled forth on the floor of my brain, then you leave feeling light and justified. I realized long ago that I could have died, and as long as my phone worked you would not change at all. There would still be slurred and sticky nights when you would grab your phone and call, or those high maintenance mornings, stumbling to awake from nights of one too many men, one too many pints, one too many sips of wine, pouring out disjointed stories of pseudo-enlightened self-indulgence laced with pride in your accomplishments, exaggerated broken rambling tales of supersonic life in the rarefied air of New York's social stratosphere, sharp vignettes without endings unfinished in a rush, broken insights clipped by taxi fares or signals lost on subway stairs, promises to tell the rest some other day, at best you should know some other day was locked away unfinished long ago, or pity pity pity about some horrid social tragedy you've seen like someone wearing lavender and orange striped with green, or white shoes after Labor Day, or praise me praise me praise me stories jazzed on so much sugar and caffeine, self-centered words all stuck together as if you're shot with speed. It doesn't matter to you it seems that we haven't met in years, that I don't even see you in my dreams, that unless I'm bound in chains powerless in fact and deed we will never meet again; I've simply come to believe it is my answering service you need. ©2003 by icebox |
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© Copyright 2003 icebox - All Rights Reserved | |||
the_loner_23 Member Ascendant
since 2002-06-08
Posts 5479Jacksonville, Florida, USA |
I really enjoyed this read. Cold hands means a warm heart |
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icebox Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 4383in the shadows |
I am glad you enjoyed it. Thank you for telling me. |
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John B Member
since 2002-07-02
Posts 68Texas, USA |
this is like eating turkey. hard to not see the significance. i will be of one command. |
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icebox Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 4383in the shadows |
Like turkey? That's great! Thank you. |
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angelblueyes Member Elite
since 2003-07-19
Posts 2148Oklahoma |
This is good.I like the way you intertwine this between technology and karmic fullfillment.Your insights always bring so much to me and give me the diversity that I'm looking for. Crystal |
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icebox Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 4383in the shadows |
Well, I am pleased to be of service. Thank you for telling me. |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
icebox Vivid and sad, this woman hanging on to an old relationship my the telephone wires. |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
You are in a class all your own, Dear Box of Ice! EA |
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Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
well done sir... but I have come to expect no less when I open one of your posts, than a lesson in how it is truly done... |
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