Kia ora and hello to you.
A new poem is included below. What is also new is the introduction you're reading. In the past I have published poems alone without any explanation, comment or disclaimer above. But that is going to change from here on out.
I'm also going to post every day from now on, with the subject matter and format changing each day and repeating week to week. So today, which is a Sunday my time, will be poetry day. And each Sunday you can expect another poem.
Also at the bottom of the post is a new signature I made for the Hive node I have started running. If you like the poem below, or if you have read and enjoyed any of my past posts, please take the time to follow the instructions at the bottom.
The poem is inspired by the struggles I went through setting up the node. I hope you have an enjoyable read.
(Edit: I got a better image when I regenerated by accident.)
Scheduled Witnessing
The rich father's coat has dulled to grey.
Rain slides along Valley Road.
Through the café window, steam clouds the glass.
The poor mother with the pram.
Umbrellas open black against the drizzle.
It’s another Monday, another entry in the planner.
Low vibration in the air,
a deeper sound beneath the wet pavement.
It’s more than the familiar pulse of the trains.
persistent signal sharp noise line
voices alter pass systems
built others struggle persist
stay whole network copper current...
Apartments glow above, each one a cell in the hive.
People inside inhale the same filtered atmosphere.
We trace known routes,
arriving at fixed points. A node blinks
in the city's layered circuitry.
Is there intention here?
The steps from bakery to desk,
the brief nod, the skim of fresh newsprint –
engine running enormous indifferent
streetlamp flickering brightness...
One drinks coffee, watches the clock move,
caught in this version of freedom –
the pause between fixed events.
To be present, to witness – that’s the role.
set in time...
scheduled...
The rain doesn’t stop. It wears down meaning,
leaving only mirrored surfaces, damp air,
the sensation of sitting, holding a warm cup,
and the quiet that follows a door closing somewhere unseen.
Support my work by voting for @almightymelon as a Hive witness.
- Just click the "Approve Witness" button on my profile
- or go to the Witnesses page, search almightymelon, and click the vote button.