Staring at the clock, it mocks my plight.
Five minutes left, or so it claims,
But time has turned to molasses;
Every tick a tiny giggle,
As my coffee grows cold, and
My chair re-forms to my shape.
It’s then that I ponder
The deeper questions,
Like if I can train my stapler to fetch,
Or if the printer is secretly plotting against me?
Words, & Illustrations (c)BobChristian
Here’s a little something. I scribbled for my wonderful wife Mrs Bob, as an explanation of how I feel. I wish I could say these things to her instead of just scribbling them down. So in honour of my amazing wife, and what ultimately brought us together. I give you a little something called Quantum Entanglement….
Quantum Entanglement
You are the nucleus to my electron,
Dancing endlessly, on the sands of time.
Holding each other, an eternal bond,
Never ending or beginning.
There’s a demon
Inside my head.
I see him, hiding
In a dark corner
Of my mind.
Lurking, his blood
Red eyes, he’s hungry;
Waiting to be fed.
Once again, slowly
Stalking me.
Desperate, hungry.
Feeding off the pitch
Black darkness, pain
I’ve got hidden deep
Within me.
Consuming every last
Bit of light within me,
Until he wins, and I’m
Completely lost to my
Demons.
By Bob W Christian
The greatest trick this devil
Ever performed is complete
Manipulation of perception
Of the current situation.
Giving no real thought
To an unpleasant existence;
Looking for a way out, some
Simple distraction.
Based on facts so thin they’re
Transparent, it begins to take
Hold; blinkering you into
Seeing a different perspective.
Is it all fake news?
(c)BobChristianpoetry
Misplaced. Stashed. A collection
There’s a use for everything here –
Lost but never forgotten.
It’s here somewhere, Amongst
Ceiling-high papers, seemingly
Empty boxes, or In a cupboard.
Searching room by room, almost
Drowning in a labyrinth of memories.
It’s here somewhere, I know it is.
I can’t dispose of it, I might
Need it one day. Until then it
Sits with the rest, gathering dust.
Memories, heartache, evidence of
Past mistakes stack up Hoarding
Emotions, never letting go of pain.
No longer needed, still I’m unable
to discard them. Until they’re too much –
Crashing over, pulling me under.
It started way back in high school. A break
up, losing a loved one. I
Kept them all, not wanting to lose anything.
Ever again, no matter what, how ever
Much it hurt. But it’s time let go now. To Spring
Clean – declutter, before it’s too late.
(C) BobChristianpoetry
Read Poem: Perseverance by The Aspergers Poet
— Read on festivalforpoetry.com/2018/09/30/read-poem-perseverance-by-the-aspergers-poet/
One of my latest pieces, as shared by festival for poetry.
The Ramblings of Bob Christian 