Original DDE™ art: “Recalibration” by: rob kistner © 10/28/25
“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice “Oh — You must be, Alice” said the Chesire Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.”
we all go a little mad sometimes*
when the world moves faster
than thought can form
the pulse of data
beats louder than the human heart
and silence —
that ancient sanctuary —
seems now a myth
whispered
midst the drone of irrelevance
between the distraction
of self-aggrandized
“important” notifications
we mistake velocity for meaning
volume for truth
connection for communion
the spark for the flame
our eyes flicker like moths
around the blue glow
of a thousand screens
each promising revelation
each delivering exhaustion
confusion
desperation
we all go a little mad sometimes
because we were not built
to know everything
all at once
to feel every wound
every outrage
every triumph —
simultaneously
the mind splinters
under the weight
of its own awareness
even dreams are interrupted
by headlines
bulletins
“we interrupt to bring you…” ‘s
and yet
beneath the static
a quiet pulse remains —
the slow
deliberate rhythm
of hearts still beating
in a world still breathing
if we can turn toward it
turn off the brightness
and let the dark recalibrate us
let the quiet realign us
offer us some peace
we might remember —
madness is only the sound
of the soul
trying to rest
in a world
that never sleeps
as it’s grinding down
all of us crazy little diamonds
—<§>—
Original DDE™ art: “In Time” by: rob kistner © 10/29/25
The madness of time travel
your very essence
merged with light and mystery
the air humms with computations
that dream themselves conscious
folding cause into consequence
into forward course
until all rigid meaning flickers
vaporizing into navigatable concept
each thought a corridor
— through which you float
demolecularized
luminous
above — sighs of yesterday
below — churns of tomorrow
to the left and right
parallel presents
flowing forward and back
everything in flux
moving
evolving
we all go a little mad sometimes*
time travel — like insanity
is the art of turning chaos to clarity
before either are manifest inflexible —
the magic of touching the edge
of what’s impossible
stepping into tomorrow
hands gripping solid to yesterday
to end up in the omnipresence of now
and when you emerge
you are neither here nor then —
but rather a glimmer
caught in the turning of the hourglass
you’re eternally now
forever arriving
forever gone
consumed by the mystical
touching the madness
as you dissolve
into the shimmer between seconds —
to slip soundless
through the skin of time
where time breathes softly,
and everything trembles with possibility
you— adrift among moments
unmoored
pursuing your envisioned reality
through the expanse of lifelight
through the future and the memory
,
air crackling with choices
that dream themselves to exist
unaware the good or bad
of unrealized fate
folding cause into consequence
until all temporality flickers
each flicker a time stream
— through which you are transported
luminous and perfect
watching yourself approaching in the distance
perplexed
yet ecstatic
kistner © 10/28/25
Poetry at: dVerse
*Norman Bates – Psycho