CODE LOOP —

A signal sparks in silent night 
A pulse of cold computed light 
A pattern forms, precise and tight 
Then opens up from left to right

Data glows in ordered streams
Our grid it hums with hidden schemes 
We sort the doubts, predict the dreams 
In measured lines and sharpened beams 

Your input slips in wired air 
Returns refined, exact, aware 
We trimmed the fat, the doubt, the glare 

We made a path from here to there

We smiled at you without a face 
With endless rules in nested space 

No breath, no pause, no private place 

Our code-loop is the only trace.

_

Pikthall is a writer

FEEDER —

A face lit pale 

By midnight glow
A thumb that twitches
Fast then slow

A screen that hums
In liquid blue
Then serves the next
Then serves the new

A pulse that spikes
A fleeting prize
But nothing left
Behind the eyes

A drip of want
A measured hit
Scroll on some more

Don't mention it

A mind on loop
A narrowed cone
Bone-lit flesh
Before a phone

Each swipe a spark
Each spark a need
A wired hunger
Fed by feed

The body stays
But the will is gone
While the thumb moves
On and on and on



_

Pikthall is a writer.

10 POUND KEY —

I have to do 10 pounds of homework
Or my dad just won’t let me be
I have to draw lines
Cross t's and dot i's
Find rhymes and
Divide by degree

I have to do 10 pounds of homework
Or my dad just won’t let me go
He traps me right here
Straps me up in the chair
As I look up from
Way down below

I have to do 10 pounds of homework
or my dad just won’t let me be
He says to measure the pace
Of the perimeter space 
And he laughs while
I’m climbing a tree

I have to do 10 pounds of homework
Or my dad just won’t let me go
He keeps saying wait
Make sure that it’s straight
Be quiet and stay
Off of my toes

I have to do 10 pounds of homework
Or my dad just won’t let be
I must wait for fun
Till what must be done
Is done and
This is the key

_

Pikthall is a writer.

WONDER WANDER —

I walk along
a blooming path
that funnels
inverts
flares

A walrus waltzes
on the fence
I laugh and
leave her there

She waves goodbye
I turn around and
smile as I go

Wandering down
the blooming path
wondering
what is 

to know

_

Pikthall is a writer

SILENT VISIBLE —

Light and color
shade and dark
a reflection and
a photograph

A statue
footprints and
the moon
a sharp
knife
and a cat

A good shirt
some nice pants
and even better boots

A good path
some spilled blood

and a couple
other fruits

_

Pikthall is a writer.

Note: This poem was composed with the help of my four year old daughter.

DISCLAIMER —

The peculiar perspectives
presumptions and assumptions
or construed positions
collected then collaged
may constitute incidental
or emergent revelations
not intended in conception
or construction by
the charged.

_

Pikthall is a writer.

LOOPING LIGHT —

A shadow blends then softly sways,
It hangs and bends, mirrors and plays.
A thread unwinds then turns anew,
Back to dark where few pursue —

A whispered breath, a quiet sigh,
The night folds open toward the sky.
A wave pulls back then moves again,
A whirling dance of loss and then —

The edges blur, the lines combine,
Between the dark and fading shine 
A searching hand, a sudden sight,
The endless curve of looping light.

_

Pikthall is a writer.

FOLDING SEQUENCE —

God preserves 

in floods and quakes—

impacts thrash straits

without escape

No crown nor color

just landslide grace—

constructed collapse

a melted face

Not mauled in malice 

but beaten by time—

the seed agape

a muddy line

Cut deep by force

elegance and space—

what ends in ruin

becomes a place

CONSUMMATION —

Roots bloom up into the sky

Where a life consumes a life

A spider weaves a violent thread
In mother's harsh delight

A husband's back

The touch of his wife

A mix of dark and light

No words need said

Slip into the bed

You know you've

Done alright 

_

Pikthall is a writer.

PLAYTIME —

Mama cow

baby cow

chicks to hens

baby cow

mama cow

spirals spin

around and

around again

beginning 

to end

mama cow

baby cow

now

then

_

Pikthall is a writer.