Prisoners
In a world washed in gray
The drones make their way
Down all the familiar paths
That they walk everyday
Towering over identical houses
A machine toils belching out ashes
The machine has taken everyone’s eyes
Barcodes rest on the lids like bruises
Emotionless and cold
Are the machine and its slaves
None have ever been saved
From the world washed in gray
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There are a few poems missing and very little formatting but I figured I’d give you something to sink your teeth in before you choose to buy.
You can find the paperback version of the book by clicking on the button below. It’s only $5.00.
Poem from the upcoming book Introspect & Empathy by J.L. Pendall, which is me.
My Memoir
Routines, routines
All throughout our days
No wonder, no wonder
No wonder we’re insane
Life is always
Too much of this
And not enough of that
Where is the balance?
It’s like living on a pendulum
Powerless to fight the motion
Powerless against my emotions
I don’t even know how I feel
I don’t even know what’s real
I’m so used to hearing my thoughts
That I forget others can’t
If they could would they even
Recognize this man?
Routines, routines
If you let them they’ll replace you
When you’re caught up
It’s easy to forget you
This poem was about, of course, routines and monotony and how they drive us all insane in one way or another. Just take a step back from yourself now and then and analyze the shape of things. If you’re unhappy, is it because the routines you’re in are making you unhappy? Maybe a change would be nice. I recently quit my job by the way. Couldn’t hand it anymore. Now I’m doing this.
Why does my ease feel ill?
It’s not the words you’re saying
But the ones you choose to swallow
I’m always wondering what you’re thinking
And I’m always thinking about how I’m feeling
I get so close to the picture that my vision begins to blur
I get confused and I lose my nerve
Sometimes I speak in a clear and melodic voice
But when I’m with you I feel like I’m a boy
I stutter and stammer and forget the point
I assure myself that I’ll only disappoint
So why does my ease feel ill?
There’s hole in me to fill
For this poems I was just writing about my state of mind. This poem’s in my work-in-progress “Y4?: The Poetry of Introspect & Empathy. My first book has just been published. A 63 page paperback called In Light of Certain Madness Can be found below.
