Artificial

Poetry

My eyes won’t open
This is a surprise
Inside a freezing examination room
I’m on the central table, naked
Eyelids stitched closed, memory erased
Why am I here?
I feel how their empty faces stare at me
Eyes scan through, I am their product
Numerical identity, a bar code
I refuse to listen, the words fade away
Arms and legs in leather restraints
They butcher me like a pig
Breathing is a chore, when organs are
Taken one by one
My stomach is almost hollow, but I’m still alive
Our future celebrates technological sadism
They all look like me
I don’t even know which one is real
Love and rational thought is easily practiced
Humanity fooled, destroyed
Thinking is only a code
How many like me have been here before?
In need to be fixed
I could be like them, consciousness micro-shipped
How will I ever know if I’m artificial?
How will I ever know if my feelings are real?

 

The versatile blogger award

Uncategorized

Hello Hello Hello, not my usual poetry post, but still important.

 

Thank you Claireyangwrites for nominating me for this little award thingy. Check out her fantastic work! ❤

This a great way to encourage engagement with fellow bloggers & writers. THE VERSATILE BLOGGER AWARD is to encourage engagement with fellow bloggers to lift each other up and support each other hard work.  Bloggers nominated other bloggers who they feel deserved recognition for their highest quality standard of writing, uniqueness of content, passion and love displayed through out the site and to top it all , amazing photos. So if you are nominated for the “Versatile Blogger Award”, you’ve automatically ‘won’ it.

HERE ARE THE RULES:

1. Thank the blogger who nominated you and share their link.

2. Nominate 5-10 bloggers for the award and provide links to their blogs. Also inform them about the nomination.

3. Reveal 7 facts about yourself that your readers may not know.

/ / / / / /

MY NOMINATIONS 

TheNaga

TheSarahDoughty

GardenLovePoet

Bennettoblog

Poemsinacoffer

7 FACTS ABOUT ME 

 

  1. I love the smell of rain and freshly cut grass
  2. I am an introvert
  3. I believe in aliens
  4. I love anime, especially horror anime
  5. I can speak two languages

/////

Much love,

Stitched in Poetry x

Broken Records

Poetry

Oceans unaware, eyes tied
Seagulls faraway screeching
Waves pushed aside like blankets
Anxious routines, broken records keep on circling
Blinds closed and then opened
Feeling the air, empty handed
Phrases repeat themselves
Never been used to silence
The light is also blinding
That screen is an exception
Same programme from 7am
I’m still paying attention
Another day, it’s all the same
Prepared beds, medication ready
They shut the lights, I try to drift to sleep
Counting from a thousand to zero
Backwards in threes

Cracked Foundations

Poetry

In a hideaway
A flower peaks through
Distorted stone walls
Who would have thought
Such wonder could be found
Inside a cracked foundation?
If I gave you a little glance
To my broken heart
You’d see a flower
Growing out of the cracks
Because over time
Even a lost soul can blossom
And like migrating birds
Fly into a paradise

Burden

Poetry

Inflicted damage through corrupt touch
I am the infected- bearing wounds under the skin
Living lifelessly in the asylum nightmare
My lips were kissed by seductress silence
She turned my tongue into a broken forge
I could not craft any more words
Frozen solace, my only comfort
These solemn routines permanently haunt me
I have dug my own grave with my bare hands
For my head to rest
Bury me slowly, I am nothing but a burden
Blind from the flood of misery and terrified
I must have been allergic to life

Debt

Poetry

Rats play chase inside the cupboard
My empty storage space
When I come over to open it
They scratch their nails into the wood
Glare through me and hiss
Like the broken boiler in the other room
I look around but there’s nothing there
It’s hard to walk but I’m used to seeing in the darkness
Who knows how long it’s been?
The numbers, the letters, the loans
I’m in debt, but who cares, who the hell cares?
Love is still attainable and free

 

Specimen

Poetry

Between two walls
She is framed inside a cedar box
Like a rare insect specimen
Nailed on the edge of the hardboard
Under glass enclosure
For their close inspection
Are her eyes bright enough?
Is the head still intact?
Why is she positioned like a broken orchid?
Never right enough, never good enough
Constantly observed
Tired of having dried up wings
Disintegrated legs made of wooden sticks
Forcing more made up smiles, a trapped fly
Self-destroying parasite
Over-thinking, self-analyzing
Unnecessary introspection turns the faucet on
She chokes on salt-water, if nobody’s watching
When it’s appropriate