Robotification of Myself
She took
a scissor-
an icy cold,
iron Scissor
cut the strings
with her metal tethers,
sprayed oil
on its fragile
sheets, let
it burn
till strings
shrieked
in woe
The
anger
dancing
and love
screeching.
The Passion merrymaking,
somersaulting
and dancing,
while compassion
fighting
in fear,
incarcerated
and burning
in flames
shrieking.
The senses
burnt, lost
trapped, murdered
and Massacred,
wounded I stood,
as the
technician
came and
replaced
the heart
with a carbonator,
the lively strings
with electrical wires,
flesh with
iron fragments..
turned blood
in to adamentium,
cleansed me
from sentiments
and transformed
me in to
a lifeless,
mechanical,
cold blooded,
heartless Robot
devoid of
any humanity.
Shashendra Amalshan 2011
I'm glad its only a poem could not imagine you as a cold blooded, heartless Robot devoid of any humanity, your just some lucky girl's catch some day...but it seems some great party!...regards
A vivid and compelling read and topical too Shan. Gosh! I am not sure if you will ever be the same again (lol). Amazing creativity and imagination as always~
Powerful in its impact... very cleverly written
cold and cruel - a poem of a modern-day metamorphosis well-narrated, Shan...
The burning of senses and transformation to a lifeles robot is described with stark but eloquently terse line and content Shan. A powerful piece.
I love the total process of your being a robot.Bleep..bleep..bleep...You are now indeed a movable physical structure, a motor of a poetic talent, a realistic sensor system, a power supply of poetry and a creative "brain" that controls all of the reader's mind.Great work Shan.