I was looking through apps the other day to see if there were something other than games to download. I spend a fair amount of mindless time playing games when I could be filling my brain with something more enriching. Hell, I could be reading a book or sewing or making art. It is all about choices and I have been going with the flow all winter. I need to break out.
I found an app called Coursera. It is also available online and it is a place to take online courses for FREE from top notch collages like Johns Hopkins, Columbia, Duke, The University of Edinburgh etc. It goes on and on. If you want to learn for learning sake it is a wonderful opportunity. For a small fee you can also purchase a verified certification of completion of the course from that particular college or institution. At this point in my life I don't feel like I need the slip of paper, but I do need a place to feed my curiosity.
I can't wait to dig into a class!
and a poem with the prompt "machine":
Magnitude of Force
Somewhere in the dream
I drove half a car, the seat
pure Samsonite with tiny wheels
carrying the weight, rotating
like demons after souls
as I look out the window
of a deconstructed door.
I drove half a car, the seat
pure Samsonite with tiny wheels
carrying the weight, rotating
like demons after souls
as I look out the window
of a deconstructed door.
I escaped work
in the middle
of my shift
to get a drink,
to free my mind,
to stop myself
from burning
the eyes out
of my patients,
though secretly
I wanted to smoke
one blazing death stick
after another.
I park my machine
in the lot, dismount
the bionic suitcase
and lock the door
which feels pointless
and rote—something of times
passed as it is exposed
to the air like the rest of us,
and walk to the Chinese
grocery dreaming of menthols
and sesame candy.
in the middle
of my shift
to get a drink,
to free my mind,
to stop myself
from burning
the eyes out
of my patients,
though secretly
I wanted to smoke
one blazing death stick
after another.
I park my machine
in the lot, dismount
the bionic suitcase
and lock the door
which feels pointless
and rote—something of times
passed as it is exposed
to the air like the rest of us,
and walk to the Chinese
grocery dreaming of menthols
and sesame candy.
The lights flicker out
as I touch the handle,
my heart sinking into
the deserted parking lot
with the last buzz of neon
extinguishing the night.
In the new silence, I hear
breathing not my own,
and turn to see him
standing beside me.
as I touch the handle,
my heart sinking into
the deserted parking lot
with the last buzz of neon
extinguishing the night.
In the new silence, I hear
breathing not my own,
and turn to see him
standing beside me.
He lets out a sigh,
but does not say
a word as the empty,
crumpled cigarette pack
falls to the wet pavement
making our desires both
friend and enemy.
but does not say
a word as the empty,
crumpled cigarette pack
falls to the wet pavement
making our desires both
friend and enemy.
He leaves me there alone
fighting with reason
and responsibility,
neither of which are winning
as they have always done in the past,
making them whimper as I drive
until gravity won’t
have
me
any
longer.
fighting with reason
and responsibility,
neither of which are winning
as they have always done in the past,
making them whimper as I drive
until gravity won’t
have
me
any
longer.
Aleathia Drehmer 2015
April 3, 2015
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