rob walker


They lie dormant for years
tumesce organically
requiring rapid removal
Some are splinters of steel-
brief twinges which heal over
erupting aeons later as pustules
Others venomous toxins
to be expurgated.

an obession? compulsive? communication? each minute experience recorded..
observations catalogued. I parole emotions others incarcerate.

The good rise up like bubbles,
the bad, gorge.

Tapping keys through endless black night. Exorcizing depressive demons.
Exposing life to the nameless & the faceless
before screens elsewhere
on a small planet.

Three poems yesterday.
One today.

@ an unknown rate...


Frustrated by the lack of kilobytes per second
I closed the screen and took a walk outside
And pondered on the pace of progress and the contrast
Between cyberworld and natural life.
Between four painted walls I'd been enclosed for days
The portal to a fast exciting place

But when it slowed and stalled, I sought a calmer place
The first place fake, more natural the second
No flashing light, nor speed, the minutes passed as days
In there the pace is forced; it seems too still outside
The sun is on my back, and somewhere, subtle life
As giant gum trees, sky and hills contrast.

The cyberworld seems slick and nature dull by contrast
But life reveals much more in Time and Place.
My physical environment was swollen full of life
A lizard darted out for one brief second
Devouring insects. And now outside
There began a train of thought that lasted days.

For life is more involved than the tools of recent days
Living systems and manmade webs contrast.
The artificial's doomed, decaying from outside,
The seeds of chaos deep within this place.
Computers crave assistance, destroyed the very second
That System is denied the Breath of Life.

Hydrogen and carbon plus oxygen makes life,
Amino acids, DNA evolve through countless days
To replicate themselves each passing second
The living system grows itself and makes its own contrast
Becoming ever complex more, in Time as well as Place,
Evolving with the changes from outside.

A patch of barren sol takes biota from outside
And soon grows moss or other forms of life
Then fungi, grass or lichens are covering the place
The process, ever-complex, starts in days.
Taller shrubs and trees in later marked contrast
Succeed the first, a complicated second.

I imagined for a second, an end to human life.
Ten thousand years elapsed outside in days.
My lawn a forest, my room a wasted place...