Somewhere the cable has been cut

And my words bleed out onto the floor

Suffered to live without any light

They become dry ink, but little more

The amplitude I once enjoyed

Has closed like a jail cell door

And now I wonder if what I write

Will find a way to endure

Why has this fate befallen me

Is it something that I said

How can all the steps along my path

Be here that my journey has led

Words still weave their wonders

But the pen is stricken dead

One bit out of place in the code

Is where my silence was bred

And now the dark, just a deeper shade

Feeling cut-off from caring friends

Like some scripted Greek tragedy

This cannot be how my story ends

Oh, grantor of an audience

Bless me but with one more day

Just one more post, a final bow

A chance to give my words away


10 Responses to “Unplugged”
  1. kristianw84 says:

    You are the only person I know who can take a technical issue and turn it into top-shelf poetry!

  2. K.L. Hale says:

    I’ve felt this way before. Whether it’s physically unplugged, or I’ve done it to myself, metaphorically, or on purpose. Your words will find their way, Brad! They just do!

  3. beth says:

    take you leave as needed and rejoin whenever inspired and refreshed. you somehow still pulled off a lovely poem

  4. Anonymous says:


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