Ariel’s Birth Day
Yesterday, I was a obese brewing storm –
keys pulled away in reverse magnetism,
electrons lashing out in frustration.
At a brush of my ungloved fingers
popping sparks bouncing hot blue
from computers to counters,
prompting crackling grumbles from nearby stations –
reticent, wary, something infringing on their borders.
Convexing physics, warping impossibilities to likelies.
My warp fields was swamp pools, dark water gathering
forming on hard drives,
Tiny rivers waterfalling over microchips
Cloud-gathered rain in LEDs,
filling screens like empty fishbowls
I was a blustery wind building
Graduating from giving tree tops swirlies
to a force focused down aisles and hallways
wrapping around legs and pushing sidewise
hooking moving feet, offbalance stumbles,
shoved into walls, objects blown from hands
reaching, sending strangers scurrying after them
like Benny attempting to retrieve his hat.
I was not laughing like Joon;
this was not intentional,
not a sideshow for my amusement.
Deep breathing did not calm
this eye of the perplexing storm,
did not lesson the panic rising.
I tried, could not pull the offending quarks
back in to me. Frustrated, unfocused
They frayed farther out, these gremlins fed after dark –
Solar flares that licked at cars' sensors
and in mechanical confusion had them cowering
honking "Intruder alert! Intruder alert".
Their befuddled owners unaware
how my elemental poltergeists was melting
insulation on wires, how they twisted and crossed,
sending warning signs, contradictory pleas
"Help me". My warped stripes still roamed –
mongolian restaurant grill sent up
tongues of flames stretching toward its chefs
buffet bowls bounced, fell from their supports,
the whining ice cream machine would not shut off.
There was naught I could do
but retreat,
quarantine.
Sedate the storm with Xanex.
Even then, fingers would reach out, curl around
tiny cases, until they were rescued, placed out
of harms reach. I felt guilty
I could usually retard this bioelectricity
withhold it from running amok.
Lessen it's effects; I already long learned
not to sacrifice watches by placing them on my skin,
My mobile devices usually covered
with an insulating sleeve –
I cared too much not to take precautions.
But see here - you didn't take care of me –
And urges that were shunted, damned
still continued to churn, like weather fronts over ocean.
I told you I was an elemental creature,
primal - given to impulse and base needs.
I told you I can't wear watches
without draining them in a week, their gears
too delicate for the demanding network
that runs below my skin. I told you
in midnight talks how devices respond,
to my passions or frustrations. You thought it
quirky - A whimsical poetic breeze. A rationalization.
I know what concrete is, what an automaton
a generator the human body is, what the mind
can create - how sparks fly.
There is nothing poetical here, only observation.
I know how I used you my love, how you use my love –
for a release, a safety valve for pent up passion, tension.
This was fine when there were others,
find the release I need when pressure sent me
simmering- quirks skittering, bouncing off objects –
but you insisted on being the sole
release for my high maintenance need.
I think you found it overwhelming,
though I still hid the complete depth of it from you;
not to frighten you away. Let it churn loneliness of watery night.
My coached pleas for you coming more often –
You deflected with rationales.
Shunted, you didn't see the immediate need.
I did, I saw the warning signs,
How electrons in my brain caused words to misspeak,
hands to shake and jerk, how my finger tips caused text
messages to go catterwhompus, how streetlights
flickered on and off, how electrons on data lines,
coaxials refused to whisper smooth for me,
hiccupped unintelligibly in my work. I close
my eyes and follow VanGoghian energies spin whirlpools ...
and frustrating - I could inoculate this easily,
a trip to a bar, a whisper proposal
In the ear in a grocery aisle, a fingertip
Slid down a thigh. Without consequence.
Within my power to do
… except …
I don’t want them.
Don't want them on my skin.
You flipped some protected switch,
made my heart commit to monogamy,
convinced my promise to be yours
and not share. Not a safe course for an elemental,
for a fairy child, a spirit of air and water.
I knew that fact.
Storms been brewing. Frustrating. I love
electronics and must keep my distance. I love
you and must keep my distance. You insist –
but the storm has made landfall, warp fields
pulling back surfaces and structures.
And not a word from you all day.
I must stop this, must find a way to submit
to the natural solution. I have waited too long.
And the storm grows.
Ariel
February 23, 2013
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