“Prepare to be Assimilated”

no matter how old I am
nor how far I travel
my mother’s voice follows
the proverbial sword above my head
touting bits of self-proclaimed wisdom
mind you, I accept our differences
to her, my name is excuse
sympathetic attention from congregation members
someone to pray for, to look down upon
a reason to pity her-
her misguided disappointment progeny
on days when the world seems to have lost it
-s collective sanity
and I am so desperately alone
begging for any person to be
just to be
without irrational processing
without dramatic mis-statements
to just exist
as a logical, functioning human
placed within the same reality
as we all are
without pretending to be anywhere else
or anyone else
still, I hear her voice
“It can’t be the rest of the world with the problem
Melissa, it has to be you.”
and I wonder
have the pods landed?
or perhaps I
have finally stepped beyond sanity
and find myself, unaware
a host whose brain cannot commit to the idea
that it is time, finally, to be committed
like my mother before me
to strap on the hug jacket
and offer a Thorazine smile to the nice men in white
as they discuss me like a specimen
my progress or regression
or is it possible
that I am becoming entirely too sane
certainly I feel consistent
like the world is spinning madly
and I, alone, am pointing at the apocalypse
asking why
no one seems to notice
then they turn on me
rabid, angry
as if I become the aggressor
by destroying a fiction
as if the matrix is real
and I wonder
watching them turn their potato heads
on neckless bodies
to stare at the disruption to the calm
to stare at me
like I am an invasive species
or perhaps
I’ll be whisked away and forced to drink the water
from which their seeming unity through stupidity must flow
have a pill, calm down, stop resisting, remain calm
I swear
if once I was sane
it was them who drove me to madness

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.

“In Bloom”

trees make shadowed silhouettes against a lamp-lit eve
glasses make each light glare like a supernova
familiar town seems alien
under the fallen dark
perspective is germane
relative to individual
my norm becomes phantasmal
when viewed by a stranger

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.


tonight I laid in bed
waiting for sleep to find me
when It returned
a sensation I knew too well
first, a tug on my ponytail
then a tapping on my shoulder
“Fine.” I say
and grab a notebook
gripping a pen with tired hands
my eyes, hardly open
yet, with a semi-conscious smile
I began to write

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.

“A Contemplation on the Validity of Existence”

toes wrapped in warm socks
creature comfort, I
sensory organ I
fleshy carcass I
sit in anticipation
sustenance on the stove
bitter turns the heart
analytical flip switch on
green for go, ascend
beyond carrion self, beyond
into objective
open space mind expand, begin
begin to consider
parasite I says nothing
many words, emotion
imposed upon the earth
without direction when
Newton’s 3rd law
react, embody, become
reality exists
and we within
fluidity or obstacle
all shades of the between
to exist
to allow to exist
simplicity becomes complication
when words tests the day
when will is bound again to flesh
human error is redundant
ego rules the man
survival of the loudest
justify the right to win
god must be delusional
like taking advice from the village idiot
dare to be surprised at inevitable
don’t question your right
else you might accomplish something

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.

“Love Is”

Far too often do we attempt
to detail, one to another
what love should be

Love is patient, love is kind
but we forget that love is unforgiving,
love is merciless

Love is trust
that another shares your idea
of what love is
trust that they love you
above themselves-
above the need to satisfy ego

So soon we forgot the purpose of union
and its far-outdated uses
thus, we try, as our fathers did
to assign necessity to choice

Love is
not mysterious
it holds no magical properties
unlike ourselves, lost in throes
of hormones and willfulness-
most irrational of beasts

Love is
what you make of it
an ear, to fill with sorrows
a home, to keep you safe
warm touch, to soften pain
a face, for every aggressor

Love is
and will only ever be
a unique experience
shared between persons

Love is
our design

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.

” Integrum Observationes”

today I went looking for inspiration
but all I found was Fear
the fear of being rejected by-
discarded by-
of being alone, unwanted-

today I went looking for inspiration
but all I found was Sadness
the sensation of loss, the heavy weight-
emotional fetters that hold us victim
to ourselves and our pain

today I went looking for inspiration
but all I found was Hope
the hope that everything will be okay-
somehow good may yet triumph
and that we will overcome

today I went looking for inspiration
but all I found was Life
humanity at its worst, and finest
and everyone in between
the life lived, or the one taken too soon
the beauty of fragility
the beauty of strength
the spark that gives us life
that makes us flawed, makes us unique
that from which, we create

and so, inspired, I wrote it all

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.


it’s almost midnight
and I’m hungry
I just got home
from a long day’s work
and I’m unwilling
to face the cold again
for a disappointing drive-thru trek
besides, I am expected
to clock back in
at 9 am,
so winding down seems wise
allow the bed to call me home
but then
a sound diverts my attention
and I realize that I must have
turned the coffeepot on
to reheat morning leftover

and realize
even subconsciously, I
seem intent on thwarting my own plans

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.