Steemit

Are you still on blogger?

Why not make money and get feedback for your posts? Why are you paying to store your stuff, when it could be stored for free, encrypted into the blockchain.

https://steemit.com/@bleedpoet

Come find me.

Wheels

Born to be.... Photographed constantly. Weird to be raised analog and raising digitally. Having evolved from a tape to CD past the MP3, from a floppy disk to floppy thick screens, all these images chemical free, a man from Kodak married me. An iPad teaches him to read well Dick and Jane taught me. Is he a benefactor or victim of the new technology, and what about me? A Neanderthal of the tooled trade in an age of printing 3D, staring through the holograms bent light trickery. Learn to ride son, ride far and free, and when it gets you nowhere you wanted to be, blame me.

Big Man

Letting go
Releasing him to his own devices
A cage of screams and jeers
A maze of obstacles and children running frantically.

He returns to me
Clutching a companion cube
Without beckoning
He knows where I've been
Even if I'm unsure the journey that brought him back.

I sit patiently, waiting for a glimpsem
A sign
That he is alright.
The burden of a parent is worry, no greater blessing then to find it unfounded.

Here within the padded bars of chaos,
Innocent aggression and micro chasms of sociality.
I watch the helicopters hover
And hope I know when and how to let go of control well.

the truth is I know, I'll never know how and when to let go.

Travelled

Red eye
With barely a wink
He's holding up
But his ears begin to pop as
We descend.

Exhausted he finally gives back into the rest that eluded him through the night.

I know I never sleep well in flight.
To many expectations of destinations, to little leg room, stacked vertically like dominoes, some excuse of economics,
crush em in closer to maximize profits, I can't complain, the Gain is cheap travel.

That moment you come to the conclusion

I hate travel, I only like destinations.

My ass is sore and my body edgy, my mind as cramped as my feet, things fly by too quick for appreciation, they drained the feeling of freedom and excitement, locked Windows and doors, a plane on rails, touring through back alleys, factories, graffiti. Traveling backwards with half a window to look through, stomach twisting with every bend we come to, it should be illegal to sell such a shitty version of what could be a much better experience.

Big Man

Letting go

Releasing him to his own devices

A cage of screams and jeers

A maze of obstacles and children running frantically.

He returns to me

Clutching a companion cube

Without beckoning

He knows where I've been

Even if I'm unsure the journey that brought him back.

I sit patiently, waiting for a glimpse

A sign 

That he is alright. 

The burden of a parent is worry, no greater blessing then to find it unfounded.

Here within the padded bars of chaos,

Innocent aggression and micro chasms of sociality.

I watch the helicopters hover

And hope I know when and how to let go of control well.

the truth is I know, I'll never know how and when to let go.