I'm trying to
I don't really
All the mental
Of the brain
And also not
Deep in thought
Keep on adding them
"Son of a bitch" list
What you'll get
No longer know
Which one caused
You the trouble
When you wake up
Through the dark
It's sad to say
Who you are
An admonition to myself, and those who wonder.
Another one got caught today, it's all over the papers. "Teenager Arrested in Computer Crime Scandal", "Hacker Arrested after Bank Tampering"...
Damn kids. They're all alike.
But did you, in your three-piece psychology and 1950's technobrain, ever take a look behind the eyes of the hacker? Did you ever wonder what made him tick, what forces shaped him, what may have molded him?
I am a hacker, enter my world...
Mine is a world that begins with school... I'm smarter than most of the other kids, this crap they teach us bores me...
Damn underachiever. They're all alike.
I'm in junior high or high school. I've listened to teachers explain for the fifteenth time how to reduce a fraction. I understand it. "No, Ms. Smith, I didn't show my work. I did it in my head..."
Damn kid. Probably copied it. They're all alike.
I made a discovery today. I found a computer. Wait a second, this is cool. It does what I want it to. If it makes a mistake, it's because I screwed it up. Not because it doesn't like me... Or feels threatened by me.. Or thinks I'm a smart ass.. Or doesn't like teaching and shouldn't be here...
Damn kid. All he does is play games. They're all alike.
And then it happened... a door opened to a world... rushing through the phone line like heroin through an addict's veins, an electronic pulse is sent out, a refuge from the day-to-day incompetencies is sought... a board is found. "This is it... this is where I belong..." I know everyone here... even if I've never met them, never talked to them, may never hear from them again... I know you all...
Damn kid. Tying up the phone line again. They're all alike...
You bet your ass we're all alike... we've been spoon-fed baby food at school when we hungered for steak... the bits of meat that you did let slip through were pre-chewed and tasteless. We've been dominated by sadists, or ignored by the apathetic. The few that had something to teach found us willing pupils, but those few are like drops of water in the desert.
This is our world now... the world of the electron and the switch, the beauty of the baud. We make use of a service already existing without paying for what could be dirt-cheap if it wasn't run by profiteering gluttons, and you call us criminals. We explore... and you call us criminals. We seek after knowledge... and you call us criminals. We exist without skin color, without nationality, without religious bias... and you call us criminals. You build atomic bombs, you wage wars, you murder, cheat, and lie to us and try to make us believe it's for our own good, yet we're the criminals.
Yes, I am a criminal. My crime is that of curiosity. My crime is that of judging people by what they say and think, not what they look like. My crime is that of outsmarting you, something that you will never forgive me for.
I am a hacker, and this is my manifesto. You may stop this individual, but you can't stop us all... after all, we're all alike.
Written January 8, 1986
I seem to pass time in a daydream,
Waiting for the hour to pass, the day to end, the night to be over
My movements drift by as smoke
My mind, is always on you.
They poster their images in the foreground
And try to distract me and my thoughts
But you're always there, always.
They feed on sadness and loneliness, and I find it hard to fight
But the never ending struggle adds beauty to our love
And perseverance to my cause.
You complete me
As if we were destined, mind mates as it were
I feel invincible when my mind allows your entering
And I save the strength of our union when they rip you from my thoughts.
In time I know we will be together
We will live out the future I have envisioned a thousand times.
I told you, mi amor, I will never stop loving you
And that is set in stone
But there is so much more to say
And I've yet to find all the words
I promise to you our future, our family
I vow to you that I will always try to be the best me
I swear to you I will never give up.
I will never give in.
They will never have me.
I am yours.
I don't remember the first time I saw you,
Your sunshine eyes and golden hair
Were hidden from my view
As I looked past you, and to the rest,
All of the people, plainly dressed,
To the front and to the teacher,
Rabbi, Priest, Guru, Preacher
Of a faith I didn't want
And a lesson I didn't need.
They say it's true love at first sight,
But try as hard as I might,
I can't remember loving you,
At that moment, right on cue,
Or even when we first went out
My heart didn't flutter, scream or shout
With pure emotion, love or lust
Instead a slight murmur, just
A flutter in my stomach.
Maybe this wasn't meant to last,
But it shouldn't have ended quite so fast,
Or I don't think so anyway,
Because I just can't keep my heart at bay,
The love came slowly,
You can believe me,
I fell for you,
Head over heels,
And you let me down.
How do I say
What can't be said
What can't be felt?
To which you say:
"Well, how DO you feel?"
I don't know that this is real.
The fact that I have, or had,
All I could have wanted,
Like I had nothing.
Nothing ever happened,
I never had anybody.
I asked nobody to lunch,
And gave my heart
Yeah that sounds about right-
No one or no body.
I had no one at my apartment,
Under the sheets
Was not a body,
Not a soul,
Not a woman,
Shared a pillow and a blanket.
"How do I feel?"
I ask my self
Because if nothing happened,
With any body,
It only means that in this story
I was nobody.
The moon is on the rise
All the stars have filled the skies
But the wolf ignored your cries
Messages get lost sometimes
But on his evening meal he dines
Then he's gnawing on the rinds
They say that good things come in nines
And even lows will have their highs
For the eagle in the skies
Questions not what fate decides
And though the fox wears a disguise
You must not care to hear his lies
Though you think, he never tries
He's sucking eggs while he confides
And you've already heard his lines
You know you're leaving just in time
Deep in your eyes, my heart still lies
Forever changing with the tides
For every story has two sides
But who is it who will decide?
Since I don't know if we'll ever meet again-
that we'll try to stay together
"I'll tell you someday."
Laughing and sticking your tongue out,
you were the most beautiful then.
When is that someday?
A link in the far distant future;
without any promise
Your back is growing fainter,
it's almost transparent now.
The fact that no matter how long my fingers were;
How much I grew;
How much I learned;
How much I matured-
that I could still not reach or touch you
or your standard;
I could do nothing
but slump to the floor,
Admit painful defeat-
The one who ran away-
It was no lie,
For I am
the true deceiver.
I say to the plaster
I just sit there
in a wooden, peeling
The Characters that I wrote then-
They don't dance for me anymore.
"Is that so?"
The poems that I scribbled-
on a napkin at a fast food restaurant,
Where are they now?
My memories and limits-
Are they gone?
"Why don't you figure out yourself?
Isn't the person,
who knows you best-
My light was gone.
My head wasn't thinking straight.
I let go.
What kind of excuses are these?
For being a coward,
For being a shallow person
who didn't see the world-
Sorry doesn't even take up half of it.
The beginning of the end,
when does that time come?
The promise that our naïve selves made together
You believed in those words.
For crushing your morals,
For mocking them,
For taking away your innocence until there was nothing but bitterness left-
Looks like God's on the premium rate after a quarter to eight
and I was home late
so I've just got to pay
and I've had a real horrible day
and I just wanted to talk to him
just wanted to let him in
so he could say it's okay
But I'm not paying over the odds
to talk to any of my God's
Bloody telecom they make a bloody bomb
charge what they like
and then hike up the price that we've got to pay
did I tell you
I've had a horrible day?
I probably did
and I'm glad to be rid of it
I. (The Real Poetry).
All these notions but nothing on the page.
Haven't we heard it all before?
Impetus from departed greats
wash ashore in our brains
but when confronted with an void white meadow
our hands go numb,
glued to the roof of a freezer.
This idea of mine is big, challenging,
but so far only a few thousand letters
have made dirty snow angels.
In its place, poetry.
Swifter to write, to read.
No rhymes usually,
just haphazard feelings lurching out my head
like a turquoise waterfall.
Sure I pace round the room
waiting for the next line to evolve
but who doesn't?
I write about real people,
people I speak to, people I know.
Do they know it's them when they skim my work?
Perhaps they don't read them.
Perhaps best for all of us.
The book remains unseen, incomplete
while real poetry rushes into the world
like another superfluous boy band
playing more vapid pop.
Numb them instead.
II. (The Wind).
On a bench
in the garden
I sit with her
as she rests her frizzy Goldilocks
on my shoulder
and says I shouldn't go on Sunday.
A few years younger,
sweet and out of bounds.
Out. Of. Bounds.
So why am I holding her hand?
Doesn't mind from what I can tell.
She likes me.
No she can't.
When does 'the other side' ever like this?
I've told her about the one back home,
how she could be superseded.
I'll disclose, for a while now
I've seen photographs
and wondered what if,
what if the same way too feeling
snaked up the ladders
and throttled me?
What would her sister say?
'He's only been here four days
and look at him, cuddling
the queen of yesteryear.'
Her sister comes out, surprise, joins us.
Say no words, look at stars overhead.
The direction of the wind is altering.
I unzip my eyes.
III. (The Sun and the Moon).
a year or so in the distance
on a Wednesday morn.
Neither of us can drive as I write.
One of us is about to though.
To meet friends.
A show of sun and moon.
A sporadic delight like a white Christmas.
I say to P it's one of those events
that must be attended.
I'm what, twenty-one?
She's gotta be twenty-four, five?
When will this ever come about again?
Have to acquire this chance.
He says if she'll be aware of the poem,
the one I scrawled down some time ago.
Doubt it, but you never know.
You never know.
Maybe it's true.
A young, beautiful girl
with a hat and a guitar.
There's something you don't see every day.
To the city.
Explanation: This collection of three short poems were written in my own time, taking much longer than normal to complete. The first of the three poems refers to my life at the moment; how I long to write prose but how I am finding poetry easier and quicker to come by. The second poem refers to a recent dream I had involving a friend of mine whom I have not seen in a long time. Upon awaking, I was quite startled at what the dream had been about. The third poem refers to a recent lengthy daydream in which me and a friend at some point in the future decide to go and see the Danish singer Soluna Samay, who is giving a rare performance in London for some reason. The final line translates from Danish as 'the journey begins.' I chose the title 'The Current' for this piece as the three separate poems above refer to current/recent thoughts and things in my life.
My heart races, erratically, lacking a proper rhythm.
A rhythm that could only be rendered by another heartbeat.
My soul soars frantically, searching for yours in a forlorn prison.
I strive on, praying, yearning, not ready to accept defeat.
I gaze into your eyes, longing for some sign of affection
I see nothing, because you feel nothing towards me.
I gave you my heart, trusting you to not break it, and you denied my attention.
Look at me now! I'm dead inside! What else could I possibly be!?
Twisted nightmares from the most morose parts of my mind start to form
I imagine that I am in a hospital bed, waiting for you to say farewell
You couldn't even say goodbye? Of course not, you have no desire to mourn.
My worthless love, absolutely useless to you. I'm alone, locked in this prison cell.
But I keep optimism in my heart, and I fathom that perhaps you'll realize
How much I truly loved you, and how much I sacrificed.
My pulse diminishes, my eyes start to close, at last, it's almost time to die.
How I longed to be yours! After my death, will you be satisfied?
Before I die, I glare at the doorway, my stomach full of knots, my vision is blurry.
I think of my scars, covering my body, each representing a time when you weren't there.
I promised I would wait, I'm giving you one last chance, please hurry.
But you never show. The machine flat lines, and you finally prove that you truly didn't care.