This body's not eternal
and this mind just might be along with it
soul just might decay with the brain
Sparks of life become ash
and fertilize the lake and sands
where my last wish will flow
by who knows who will be
the last of my loved ones
You're my purest afterlife hope

I sit here in uncomfortable indecision
feeling every itch and twitch, T.V. off
trying to listen to the cellular hum
to reach peace of mind
give in to the fractals and functions
and blaze when it gets too bad

It's the present we forget
I'm always in-between doing this or that
waiting for inspiration
waiting for the stars to align
when my shuttle works fine

I'm
bored
There's
not
much
to
do
Except watch the TV,
muck around,
write a story
make some sound
There's
not
much
to
do
Except sing a song,
dance a dance,
draw a picture,
go ship Klance

Picture the scene… a TV company boardroom.

“OK we have a problem”…

Oh no! - Corporate gloom!

"Thank you for turning up everyone… Listen in.

The opposition has come up with a winner.

Celebrity Pooch Walks with Alan Carr. I know…

But Gary’s got an idea - go on Gary…”
“So…

Here’s a synopsis…

It’s called ‘Celebrity Snoop Dogs’

We strap a camera to a dog’s back

and send it through a famous person’s cat-flap…”

“Sorry to stop you there Gary.

Although I recognise the merits -

and you may have it right…

But that one’s on Channel Four tonight!”

You are proud to remember,
while I forget it all.
You know how and when to pick
while I barely depict
that getting lost is not an option.
You hate seeing balloons
floating in the sky,
"ones beyond its limits,
will break into small pieces.
Look how confident I am!”,  
waiting to pat you on the shoulders.
“Great, I can just watch tv”

I didn’t know I was punished.

Well,

an easy one for you to remember puffy.
I am not an overnight oat to make your morning easy.
I am seafoam, whisked by smashed whitecaps and breaking waves blown inland. When you are hardly sea spray ejected in the air.

Stick my phone into the wall--
hoping no one trips on the cord.
No mobile phones in this dark age
and computers haven't come of age.
My TV has cable but the picture's curved.
Static makes it look so old
and my frozen dinner's gotten cold!
I shut it off and think: at least
I've got a huge stereo
with a dual tape deck.
Listening to New Wave
is much better than televised dreck.
Maybe someday they'll make it digital
but it won't be quite the same.
I'm as happy as a person can reasonably be
in the year 1983.

Welcome to the Timeless Zone,
Vast as space and timeless as infinity.
A surreal dimension
Located somewhere between
A normal New Year 2020
And the imagined end
Of the Coronavirus Lockdown.

A dimension of sight, sound and mind
Taking us from the pit of superstition and fear,
To the sunlight of scientific knowledge.

The days pass endlessly
As we look for something to do
Again and again.
No meetings to go to,
Our year-planners and diaries
Consigned to being buried in dust.

Here we sit
In twilight:
Idly watching TV
Or catching up on household chores.
We take a daily walk
Even jog
And occasionally pop to the shops.

Shops that is, where you have to follow the arrows
Keep in your own little zone
Do Not Pass Go
Go straight to Jail –
I mean The Counter:
Once you have followed the maze
Of often empty shelves
Ransacked by Panic Buyers.

And at the counter you are served
By workers in gloves and plastic visors.
You must stay behind that line!

But mainly we sit like zombies,
Passing away the time.
At least the pressure is off:
Nowhere to go
Nothing to do.

But look!
A sign up ahead.
Maybe a crossing.
I hope it says
“The End”.

Paul Butters

© PB 19\4\2020. With due credit to “The Twilight Zone” TV series.

I watch a lot of shows,
i dont know why but they stick with me,
even after they go.
I finished this beauty of Just Add Magic ,
feeling pretty sad even though the ending was a happy show.
I feel them i feel their story, just like i do with books,
when my dear potter ended i felt lost i dont know why,
this feelin is flawed.
A try i make to message the cast, oh what a fool i am,
they are just stars. Then again i start another one, forgetting the past,
and again the cycle starts when the series comes to a happy close.

Imperfect Sonnet
by Michael R. Burch

A word before the light is doused: the night
is something wriggling through an unclean mind,
as rats creep through a tenement. And loss
is written cheaply with the moon’s cracked gloss
like lipstick through the infinite, to show
love’s pale yet sordid imprint on us. Go.

We have not learned love yet, except to cleave.
I saw the moon rise once ... but to believe ...
was of another century ... and now ...
I have the urge to love, but not the strength.

Despair, once stretched out to its utmost length,
lies couched in squalor, watching as the screen
reveals “love’s” damaged images: its dreams ...
and ******* limply, screams and screams.

Originally published by Sonnet Scroll

Keywords/Tags: tenement, rats, unclean, cheap, sordid, despair, squalor, TV, screen, sonnet, limp, limply, screams