Refresh

Hit Refresh again, and again.

 

Agony from an icon
Refreshing I don’t think so,
These reloads, add more
Work to my workload.
Digital tributaries, draining into my ocean inbox
Levels of unread messages rising.
Until it explodes in a flood of replies.
My head, eyes, and mind fill up,
While my brain, days, weeks, and
Months implode from the
Loads of keys stroked sent like flares
Of information flashing from your screen to mine
at the speed of light and time.
Update. A question. Your attention is required?
Every time that I hit refresh, a digital door swings
open allowing bits and megabytes to devour my
Cyber and physical space – not sent in spite or malice,
Yet, rarely do they provide me respite or solace.
Refresh on my screen is not a rest or a promise.
It is a reminder that the off button works only when pressed. 

Achoo

woman-touching-her-nose-395088

Photo by Brandon Nickerson from Pexels

…ah shoo…eschew…Aa-aa-ah-CHOO.
Tissue isn’t the issue, when a single sneeze can silence a room.

An aural interruption that sounds like epidemiological gun fire.
Germ warfare is back, hoarding new soldiers, for its big battle.
Time slows while an entire space holds its collective breath.
Whose side are you on? Can I trust you? Can I be trusted?
Pandemic enters our discourse and gathering spaces.

 

A-CHOO!

 

Without a warning.
Powerless to hold it back.
A natural response is now an attack.
Thoughts racing through every soul within
and without 2 metres distance of the blast radius.

Droplets with unknown destinations and origins dispersed.
Droplets of anxious sweat forming on foreheads from what’s not known.
Distancing, dreading, decisions to make, do I have 14 days to give?
Knowing how 7 days without interaction makes one weak.
Could 14 make me stronger? Time to wait, write, and seek.

Can’t cannot dance, but Can Can can

It’s odd how some words can play so nicely together,
While others will never be birds of a feather.

Perhaps instead, I should have typed cannot?
However, for personal reasons, that way could not get got.

Since can’t wouldn’t fit, do I just kick it to the curb,
Only to use the other more acceptable verb?

Of course poetry with can’t instead of cannot could be done,
There are more ways to choreograph our words, than just one.

I wish that your words dance across screen and page without fear,
Because there are no purer places to share our thoughts so dear.

So can, can’t, and cannot may never waltz the dance floor together,
Because can’t cannot dance, but Can Can can however.