Idiosyncratic Communiqué 

If we keep on going like this

Remain proud cowards

Trying as hard as we can

To hinder words from being spoken right in front of one another

Only letting them lay in ink somewhere in a www. and in a .com,

We will lose our voices

Gone the resonating sounds

Emptiness pirouetting

No matter how hard we try to scream

Every word grows unfathomable

For the drought our lungs have been into

Burned language out of your body

Burned language out of my corpse

And although the mind surpasses the void

Abundantly flooded with language

Still, conclusions over all rundown buildings

Lead to pointlessness


It’s a defeat worth writing

In need of a plaque of recognition

But a valuation I refuse to pay


I know the consequences

Eternal voicelessness

Silence to the wordsmiths

Yet I fall ill to it

Exactly right now

Currently acquiesced in the euphoria of

Just talking through the Internet

Choosing not to speak

Speak in the manner all people should

Here I am

Fishing out suppositions through webbed networks

Conveying outpours of melodramatic sceneries

Weaving thoughts from the virtual text

Confused through the implicit content of your message

Trying to configure why you speak a different language from mine


Instead of voices,

I hear the keyboard

A mainstay of rhythmical typing sounds

I remain unsatisfied

Thirsty for your voice to echo

As loud as it can

To break the glass

Water my lungs

Let the fluid run through

Revive the voice slowly dying

The screen as the virtual quick sand

Only more ghastly

Hankering after your warm face

Longing for your body to concretize


High-tech prodigies

Lost in between all obscure holograms

Or is it hanging in between threads of horizontal lines

Parallels and can never intersect

Unstable signals

Dizzying grids

Us who anaesthetize the whole thing

Pitiful communication

Pitifully based on indirect innuendoes

Outburst of hints


We can speak

Yet we don’t try to

The reason we can’t understand

Why you can’t save me

And I can’t save you

Efforts untraced

Only online without emotions

Without actions

Undressing words once refined

Conformists to the shallow promise of technology

Pioneers on a devastating insult to nature

To tradition

Shameful and uncustomary

One I shouldn’t be tolerating

But as an outlet to free myself from too much individualism,

This post is the proof

We can’t really talk. We never talk. We don’t understand anything.

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