Poetry: The Needle Knows My Name by Bruno Wilson

The Needle Knows My Name

Rhythm is broken.

Existence, a degree of separation.

An observer of fate.

Lost, is the path back.

It is here...

The needle calls my name.

Sirens towards the rocks.

Restraints are paralyzing.

The tunnel has no light.

Hope is not a word.

It is then...

The needle calls my name.

Present needs to shift.

Something has to grow.

Nothing’s not the answer.

Time must stand still.

It is when...

The needle calls my name.

Universe needs reminding.

Connections lost to be mended.

Journeys need beginning.

Conscious needs provoking.

It is why...

The needle calls my name.

A puzzle full of fractures.

Empty yet complete.

Stitched together with moments.

A thread is drawn.

This is how...

The needle knows… who’s name to call next.

Bruno Wilson is a creative beast that recently discovered a passion for writing. When he is not writing, he is running his dogs in the woods, diving in the ocean, playing guitar, sketching memories, and loving the world whether it likes it or not. Sometimes he can be spotted climbing a tree or fishing. Other times he is trying to blend into the surroundings and covering his scent so he can be an anonymous observer of all things. A dirty foot turned scrapper, he also managed to claw his way out of jail and into a master's degree in engineering and is just now realizing the pen is mightier than the math.