if we had
some sort of
super powered
parabolic
microphone
aimed at
the heart of
a black hole
i imagine
it just pulsates
bleakly screaming
at the emptiness
of space
maybe that’s just me
it’s easy to dissociate when there is no reason not to be uncertain where you are or if you are or any of those nagging little gnats of existential doubt nipping at your exposed flesh drawing little welts of blood as you slap and smash and smear their distended little bodies and there is a poetry in the broken wings like an augury in tea leaves but you cannot see it even as you feel it and there is nothing but time to kill and you wonder if these crushed carcasses represent something a little bigger maybe they are hopes and dreams or the best parts of you that no one ever sees because you hide and write and make no noise so as not to disturb the cockroaches who seem startled every time a tiny scream escapes from behind the frozen orb that is your heart in the back of your throat so you slipslide into a parallel dimension where things are exactly the same but you remember them differently and it is nice to see yourself fail after giving it your fourth or fifth best effort
goddamn you are watching a lot of videos on space and you have terrified yourself that the grand escape plan is a pipe dream in the face of ecological catastrophe and you wonder if the eventual survivors are shrunken little mole people in subterranean warrens that speak of the oceans and sun as of the before times rather than imagining the corpses covered in red sand on the inhabitable quest to conquer mars after learning detonating the martian polar ice caps would create an atmosphere less than two percent of our polluted cesspool and you’re torn between feeling guilty even though you fell for the pnzi scheme of recycling and you stopped using aerosols long before it was cool but you might as well lit a bonfire of used dildos and let the cloud of petroleum smoke choke a fucking condor because no one else gave a shit and then it was too fucking late
hypothetically
we never considered the effects our prescription pills caused in the groundwater until a nutjob conspiracy theorist said it was making frogs gay and despite being pretty far off target it was making them hermaphrodites at increasingly high rates and fuck me if it doesn’t hurt to concede the misguided mentally deficient nostradamus was at least sniffing in the right direction kills me to this day mostly because i spent too long down a rabbit hole i would rather not fall into again but someone related to you thinks those poor frogs are going to hell and honestly that’s one of the biggest reasons why i believe
if we had
some sort of
super powered
parabolic
microphone
aimed at
the heart of
a black hole
i imagine
it radiates
softly whispering
of the emptiness
within us
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
I left that link so you could hear it for real, not to counter your poem-prose btw… I think it sounds scary… 🥹
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i imagine if you were woken up by it in the heart of space, it probably is scary 🤷
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There is no heart in space… unless you mean earth? And being that you never sleep, you can never wake up… but neither are you ever truly woke which certainly makes you like one of those Astronauts in Ray Bradbury’s short stories who drifts farther away… into the nothingness. It’s a sad but reoccurring theme with you guys.
Anyhow, I’m not going to blog publicly any more, as there is very little connective tissue among my fellow… er… bullshhh * cough * writers…
so best wishes to you on your poet’s journey Mike.
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I’m sorry to hear that, I just got onto your page and enjoyed what I read. I hope you return one of these days.
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Thanks Mike. It’s just not an honest writing community… It something else. It has some real writers, but we aren’t able to connect without a ridiculous amount of open source harassment. I’ve tried to discuss with people when they have transgressed, and I have set boundaries which are healthy, no matter who felt offended… but it doesn’t stop entitled pricks, some of whom are christian women. The east Indian Gurus are also annoying because so many of them are just there to bot up computers. Some of it is marketing trackers, but I consider it malware. I just don’t go around “liking” every person to get a “like” back. I never do that. I am honest if I spend MY time on any person. I am tired of being the “food” for the general GLOBAL public… I am not here to be used as a tool to generate traffic…
Thanks for allowing me to vent here. I hope you know your writing and voice matter to me. You were worth the trouble.
I must take time off from being online. I don’t think I’ll blog again because it doesn’t meet my needs. I wish it did… but wordpress tech doesn’t measure up. It throws us away and teaches how to do it.
❤️ Be good to your brave heart, Mike.
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I understand, and it is disheartening to see. This should be a place where people can talk about the craft, but through traffic is all the robots care about. If you ever want to talk writing, I’m always here. You’ve got talent and I’d hate to see this broken machine remove that from the world. But you have to be true to yourself, first and foremost. I realized early the game of WP wasn’t one I had interest in playing. So many people just looking to be seen. I began my blog with that intention, and quickly found it to be a place where I could scream and then vanish instead. I guess we remake the world around us to suit our needs. Social media is anything but, when you get into the microprocesses of it all. I hope you find your way of expressing yourself and that is a more balanced give and take. But please continue to share your voice everyway you see fit.
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Thanks so much for the dialogue, Mike. I haven’t been playing a game on wordpress either, but the people like Grace of the Sun (for example) who are fucking with me and others are playing a game. If a woman was being raped, she’d be like Margery Taylor Green and help hold the woman down and then feel like she was a positive spiritual influence. I am not exaggerating. I would hold my ground if I thought there was potential to build a better community… but the CEO of wordpress has ruled and open source is a free for all bugging with terrorists (for real) that are undermining art and books and thought and love.
I really do think your voice stood out in the fray as real. Thank YOU for that. I’ll try to come back and read your latest work(s) in the future… ❤️
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I literally miss everything. Dang. The world is insane. I hope to read you again soon.
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This is what a black hole actually sounds like: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_tXhBLg3Wng
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that is insane. and sort of pretty
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