4/7/18

Poems | Lapdiang Syiem

Credits: Amrit Ghosal

A Chance

From Frederikshavn to Göterborg
Onboard the ferry
I determined
To change my fate

I’m tired of fitting my
Round thoughts into
A rubrics cube

I cannot match all the colours
I cannot complete the puzzle
But I try, out of habit

That night onboard the ferry
I was all set to change the rules
To tweak my ordered mentality

As I sat by you and cracked the ice
I felt strong, confident, in-charge
Oddly willing to fiddle with my wired feelings

I watched, waited and tested
It was surreal, cliched it may sound

The fireworks, the brilliant night lights
The romantic stranger
It was a movie played to the last letter of its script

You were German, you said
Afraid of flying your entire life

I found you to be the gentleman
Taking charge but never control

But I could have been the gentleman instead
Exchange roles! my mind screamed

Off the ferry our journey continued into the city
In the tram, we were patient, too patient
I left

You watched me disappear into the night

We let that chance lie
Strangers we continue to be
I’ve not remembered your name

We did not break any rules
We allowed our feelings to leak
Only to seal up the crack

My round thoughts are
Squeezed into the cube
I was afraid to be a victim

But I think of you now
And wonder.


What's feelings in a fuck?

What is it about intimacy?
What is it about the touch?
What is it about caressing, hugging, kissing?
Just to get to a fuck!

I was scared, I was frightened out of my wits
To let another person enter me
Copulation is a fucking intimate process
Or is it just another cathartic drug?

My body, I've discovered
Has its own security system
An invisible, in-built chastity belt
I didn't even know I had a high tech, touch screen key

Sex, I thought, involved an emotional exchange, all you fuckers
Or have we lost touch with emotions?
Are emotions getting outdated?
Soon to turn into just another fucking tradition

I'm sorry but I am old world, old school
A bloody romantic still capable of feelings
Am I not allowed to feel anymore?
Bloody fuckers, blow jobbers think it's only a waste of time

The world is crumbling anyway
Bit by bit
We are superior, we mustn't allow
Our feelings to take control

For then it's the end of our peace of mind
Fuck emotions, fuck feelings, I'd like to be invincible, indestructible
Robotic

What do I teach my children then?
Will I have children?

Who wants to procreate anyway?
We cannot be humans anymore
It's crazy to procreate in a crumbling world

So, what do I teach my children?
Will I only feed them drugs?
To not feel, but still be in ecstasy
Cheers to the robotic age!

I am invincible, indestructible, superior
No more an emotional fucker
Let's replace dicks and vaginas
With something stronger, an overdose of libido,
A robotic dildo and an automated socket.

It's trendy to lose our souls to the robotic age

I don't need sex, I don't need intimacy
I only need an unfeeling, metallic organ
Or an invisible, touch screen WiFi thingy
To satisfy my needs
Then I am free

Freedom, sexual freedom
Let's not call it sexual anymore
It's just another survival routine
Devoid of old fashioned emotions

They only inhibit us it seems

Did I mention that the world is crumbling?
Did I mention that we are in a vicious cycle?
Did I mention that I'm afraid
To be the last human?

Capable of feeling my heart, my soul,
My fears, my longings
My desires, my needs
Did I mention that I am weak?

Did I mention that I am learning to nurse my own wounds?
Did I mention that in the race
Of the survival of the fittest
I am weak, weak, weak?

I am a feeling being in a sexual world
Does that make me too human?
More or less...

The world is crumbling
But we must think of the bigger, grander problems
I'd like to say fuck emotions

But my weak, beating, throbbing heart
Cannot


2 comments:

  1. Human emotions runs through our veins,
    Our human nature is not lost in vain.
    For few brave hearts take up the pen.
    Keep up the work, for your world you defend.

    Little by little our emotions we express,
    To the behest of the hearts.
    Scribbling to release that form an art,
    To tell the world and set us apart.

    ReplyDelete
  2. <3 ... thanks for your poems! More! More!

    ReplyDelete