If I write lines of poems
like I write lines of code,
no comma would be out of place
and every quotation mark left open
would throw the whole piece off center.

Maybe coding is, in fact,

Maybe life is, in fact,
and we are the result
of a Universal code
where Xs and Os
are fingers and toes,
the perfect design of
human form.

I define myself
in high definition
after years of sleepwalking
through a fuzzy dream.
I’ve turned on computers
to turn off my mind,

I’m unplugging myself
to find a connection.

Where does our electricity come from?
Maybe the light that’s inside
is designed to hide our shadows
and we are wasting our time
placing darkness where it does not belong.

Maybe at this hour
we should turn on the power
we are born with
and search for more bandwidth
to ignite a network of our net worth
and treat people like poetry —

writing and rewriting code
until our history is recorded.

The Running River

The river never broke a sweat.
It went for miles around us,
running in place
in search of a silent moon.
The darkness was her perfect partner,
leading them all
to the finish line,
where the morning
threw its hands up
as the winner of the race.

We stood on the sidelines,
rooting for time to suspend us,
staring down the clock
and knowing this was
not the end,
but the beginning of our journey
toward forever.

Marcus Amaker is a published poet, graphic designer, videographer, and web designer. His latest album, The New Foundation, is a collaboration with Grammy-nominated jazz drummer and producer Quentin E. Baxter. When he was the editor of Charleston Scene, Chris Haire terrorized him on a weekly basis.