Traffic bracketed between
An accident
And construction
Inch by inch
Every few
Minutes
Move
As I
Cruze comfortably by
Traffic bracketed between
An accident
And construction
Inch by inch
Every few
Minutes
Move
As I
Cruze comfortably by
Connected by rubber and leather
Eyes on asphalt, voices on the phone, ears tune in to the radio.
I vow with all beings
to appreciate the company along the drive
Reading of hoards and the Wellton 26
all for college classes.
May the bones rest in the shifting sands
and the spirits unearth the unknown past.
As Night Falls
Gunning across
a square world
as night falls,
past cows and
sheep: headed
for my bed while
hostile mobs awaken
from their day-time
slumber. Simple
in design and
construction, I
am both architect
and builder. Terra-
forming to my needs:
a wheat farm by streams;
storage vault mined
into the mountain-
side so I can hoard
gold, diamonds, coal
iron, emeralds, quartz.
Mines, forests, plains
are my real domains
in this game of
pixels and bits.
A Night In A Village Library
I am an avatar in pixilated
Iron armor, holed up in a village library
While nightmares walk at night.
I create, I destroy the generated
World around my boxy hands and feet.
Teleporting obsidian men carry
Cobblestone, dirt, sand blocks,
Changing this fantasy just like me, altering
The reality until daybreak,
Where “Save and Quit” pauses
This time and The Player
Returns to the circular existence.
When the Creepers Snuck up Behind Me (A series of Minecaft Hiakus)
Exploring mine shafts
Deep underground, torch placings
Light up the railway.
Red stone vein above
Creepers sneak up and explode-
Forced down a ravine
Sentinel mob guards overhead
Two spawned Endermen
Nearby, diamond ores in hand.
Cascading waterfall beside-
A glance to lock eyes
Aggravate both to attack.
Square feet in water
Iron connects, red flashes
Reward: ores and pearls.
The screen showed
no document titled “password.doc.”
Planes flew in circles inside
my head. Disappeared
documents, nonfunctional email,
Internet, a digital sloth.
All subtle signs of a malicious
software designed by black hat hackers
to chip away my motherboard and CPU.
The prospect left chills
down my spin. On creeping
Internet access, website
writers well-versed in malware
and their symptoms ease
me into computer hacker lingo
where bots are street vendors,
drug dealers, or gangbangers selling
products to lag at best and kill
at worst. Several forums suggested
products free and fast acting
to cure my computer’s affliction.
Within several hours, the tower was running,
but dear document “password.doc”
was lost
in the
B i nar y
C o de.
Pub smell,
Lube now,
Ah chew hotel.
You look board.
Now, let’s play: pleasure time.
Restaurant pause
Stores my ducks at
The most finest address.
Import casual wear:
Black jeans for your ass.
This machine
has no brain and
moves in mysterious ways.
A tree never
hits an automobile
except in self-defense.
Stop: can’t go
Back, left, right, or
forward.
It is very legal
to go off marked trails even though
invisible signs with worms
may chase you.
If you hit the sign,
you will hit the bridge.
Be prepared
for the unexpected, like:
now hiring fried chickens.
“Destroy the computer,” says the picket sign.
To which I replied, “That sign
doesn’t look handwritten.”
A struggle with this
blank space
leaves
me drained—disengaged.
Without any interest
to create
give
life
to objects
man made.
These letters and spaces
feel lifeless.
An open gate to
Bridge reality and
Virtuality is found
Upon a shelf surrounded
By many coded tales
Easily accessible.
Blocked from view with
Blocky text saying, “buy
After receiving an invitation.”
7th Door taunts and teases
A young viewer who
Is thrown a ladder so she too
Can join the journey to
Discover the ultimate level
Behind the seventh door.
Flapping wings in the corner
As the branches outside bend and wave
An optical illusion dove
Perched on the wall above
The baseboard. Triangle of light
Above shoes entertains
While unable to take to the skies
Like its living cousins just
Beyond the window.