A Phone's Diary

A Phone Diary

            •           An Alarm

all it takes,
     a shiver and
a light
   to remind me,
forget  me
   when the now is
all I contain
accepted through,
passed by,
       the burned past
flashes of
accidental things
your smooth wallet 

          your notebook
your rusted shoes with sand 
        just rise above the whole line

crash into a forgotten bag
and they
signify so much life to me.

            •           A Hidden Sunset

Mist  of fog

Cover   my line of sight

With dots of blue and

Drops of   time

Just one   hole to give

Satisfaction to my rays

To screw   every cloud

And stain it with   yellow and orange and

Undo some reds on the    sheets of whiteness

To crack the awareness of     a soul’s view

That eschews the      scattered birds

And infected    spots that cover

Every true    expression on

Flat sheets that drink       every drop

Of dew to reflect the reflection of me

And plant      a smile on a forgotten

Face that is free

As my alarm knocks on the words

To awaken a dejection spree

            •           Footprints

Out of blackness, I see

Grains subside to welcome a print of human existence

On its senses and pride;

Shadows bold the alien edges that are

Left behind to cry on every memory

That came through me

With every stride, I connect numbers through

Time that divide past and present to be files

With folders in faded fires ; pictures confide secrets

With my screen to be saved in sacred corners of

My steel body. It was implied to ignore the prints

and conceal the proof of life within death as I reveal

images to be burned in this magnificent

ordeal of how time can decide to end

the breath of a puerile beauty and put

aside every scream, every tear and let

the wave peel those footprints and

I watch your existence wash away