Angel With The Robotic Arms

Shitty Fact #2,847,942: I’m not the only unique starfish in the sea; there are many people who want to be a professional writer, a famous author. And we each think we’re the special one. We each think we’re the prettiest fucking raindrop gracing the earth with our presence. Doesn’t matter. We all fall into the same ocean. We all drown with each other. I’m not unique, creative, or the next Great American Author. I’m just another desperate bipolar schizophrenic with a pen.

Unrelated but related side-note: I finished a short story for NaNoWriMo. I was pretty excited when I started it, but by the end I realized it’s a piece of shit. And not because it hasn’t been edited. It’s just plain shit….It is an odd, out-of-body experience to read your own work and see it for what it truly is…

#woeisme #idon’tcarethati’mwhining #nowiwanttowatchmetropolisforsomereason #thisisnothowyouusehashtags

Angel with the Robotic Arms
JCD Kerwin

we’re all just broken ‘bots
that walk
in sad, grey lines,
in time
with each other.
but with each new tick
and metallic tock
of the Doomsday Clock,
we’re pulled off shelves
and bought,
second-chance
from second-hand
shops. we’ve got
no regrets except
that we gave up on ourselves
long before this world.

(Dec. 2014)

Dead Bed Head

Dead Bed Head
JCD Kerwin

living in my head, i tend
to forget i’m meant
to smile and nod
like everyone else.
but i can see
i’m not supposed to be
another ticking machine.

i’d rather fade
than spend one more day
making friends
with Monotony
and Gloom.
at least if i turn
into a comatose ghost,
my drool will fall
from a smile.

with rage and pangs
of jealousy,
you’ll wish to be
part of my world, too.

(October 2014)

Blink This

Not particularly well-written, but the idea still delights me.

Blink This
JCD Kerwin

I often dream
about the so-called
“Rise of Machines.”
I picture blenders
and ice machines
flinging food at passersby.

I imagine
the computer reaching,
wrapping chords
around my knees.

I bet the coffee pot
has got
some built-up steam
toward all us
impatient, cranky beings.

I confess I adore
the image of
automatic doors
sounding like Hal.

In any case,
I sort of wish
these robots would
amass and attack.
It’d sure explain
why everything I own
runs like shit.

(Sept. 2014)

360Infinity

360Infinity
JCD Kerwin

We are molded and painted,
stiffened in Oblivion,
pretending we are beautiful,
and
that it’s somehow worth
all the scraps and chips.
Until finally, we become
porcelain dust
behind the frame.

I’ll be the prettiest corpse in the snow globe.

(April, 2014)