Donald Guy Sep 2016
A simple fact
That says nothing,
and is nothing

A simple matter
An un-matter
But everything to me

Because, you see, it is: "I see"
It is "I am"
I am, you see

I think —I am
I am... I think

But what, ergo, to do

To do:
to be
to love
to see

to am, to was- to now.
to be
for now. for was,
for 'am for now'
but anything to be.

To done:
to was
to loved
to did
to heard about
to think they did

to dreamed about
to wondered why
and anything to be
Donald Guy Aug 2016
I hear the world is full of pain,
Flooding, terror, acid rain;
Music, theatre, laughs and art,
Whiskey, coffee, beer and darts,

Rainbows, glaciers, hiking trails;
Rare Pepes and EPIC FAILs,
Overwatch and Pokemon Go;
Donald Trump and Bernie Bros;

Dreams, and Drugs, and Rock n' Roll,
Dharma, Love, and the eternal soul,
The Holy Quran and the Higgs boson
Tajwid in Geneva, QFT in Tehran.

Yet day by day I sit and type
Edit, grep, compile, pipe
All  that a system smoothly might run
Ashes to Ashes, Zero to One

'''
npm install; grunt &; restart nginx
docker run -d me/interests; pkill sleep; pkill ***
nice 14 nutrition; rm /etc/cron.daily/exercise
pkill -STOP judgment; scp foodler:'**/{burger,fries}' ~
'''

It's rather ironic that this metal you see,
Seems quite a better multitasker than me
Whereas It stops its world to switch one task for others
My open descriptors always overflow my buffers

Whereas it take new patches with a simple 'apt-get'
My resolve for upgrades I quite often forget
And when its health checks fail, we regrow the ASG
But my self won't reboot. et memento mori.
Donald Guy Apr 2015
With Google Maps
Of subway tracks
I walked into the world

To kicks and claps
Of Spotify tracks
I walked and bopped and whirled

Off to see my Meetup friends
To the show from Last.fm
It's sad I couldn't be Foursquare mayor
But at I least I got some XM

They wouldn't get me YouTube likes
But I managed to get some Snaps
My Facebook mood was kinda rude
So I posted on YikYak

Waiting, I swiped right on Tinder
Emojis, and flirting ensued
She sent me her Tumblr, I reblogged her gifs
I asked her to Kik me a ****

Waiting, I browsed around Etsy
Posted the cool stuff to /r/pics
Got x-posted to karmaconspiracy
Was all “NAH MY GF MADE THIS"

Back IRL, ran into coworkers
They asked if I’d go down east side
I mulled it over briefly and then
I simply replied

I'll do it for the Instagram
I do it for the Vine
My phones got charge
My credits got charge
Lets go and leave it behind

I'll see it for the Periscope
I'll think it for the Tweet
And as soon as I get my Watch
Maybe I'll have a heartbeat
Donald Guy Jan 2014
New York, The City rises outside my door
For some, a playground, so vast to explore
But for me, a reminder, I cannot ignore
That the world is too large and I'll never be sure

How it all works, or why it's all there
Too many features I cannot compare
Most never known and most never seen
Not in the flesh, and Not on the screen.

Not by the ear, and Not by the tongue,
Not spoken, Not read,
Not thought and Not sung
Not under soles, Not breathed into lung

Not in my experience
I will not understand

So I'm left to imagine, but more likely not
That that I do is too quickly forgot
All of these people, and all of their thoughts

More time than I have,
An instant demands.

~D.B. Guy
1/24/14, before 8am
Donald Guy Jan 2014
I am a certified expert in the sequential pushing of buttons,
this pushing performed, on a good day, in concert with the
expensively purchased, somewhat rare mental model of
the workings of a recently commonplace variety of machine
dependent at its core on the minuscule presence of increasingly-rare
earth metals allowing for the conditional flow of groups of electrons.
These machines, like their precursors, are further dependent on
the supply of slightly less increasingly rare combustible material
for which armed conflicts are routinely fought and many have died.

My interest in the machines began at an early age,
enticed by the illusion of control, and on the whole,
I think, motivated by the idea that these machines
processing information, the core mechanism of reality,
might be used to create understanding.

In the interceding years, it is increasingly apparent to me
that while some are used for this purpose, most,
like most things around me, are controlled and engaged by
multi-personed organisms concerned primarily with:
1) self-preservation AND
2) the collection of, and limited divestment of,
unit notions of rarefied value, insured by the
existence of another similar organism valued for its
1) self- and nearby-environs preservation AND
2) recent track record of insuring continued relatively easy access
to the aforementioned important combustible materials.
—it is generally considered to people's credit that this notion
of value is thus-derived and no longer as frequently derived by virtue
of possessing a metal which, while of certain non-combustible use,
is basically just pretty rare and really, really shiny.

I find myself again shortly in a need of convincing such an organism
that my button pushing is of sufficient quality,
on sufficiently frequent good days,
that it should consider me a temporary part thereof and divest,
of itself to me, sufficient units of value that I might happily
continue to push buttons on its behalf in the pursuit of further units.

I am, for some reason, somewhat less than thrilled with this prospect
finding it, despite its marketability, a maybe less than important enterprise.
I am existentially concerned by the idea that my whole value may derive
from my button pushing, and is thus further dependent on
the availability of rare-earth metal and also-rare combustibles.

In some delusion of importance amongst 7 billion plus similar primates
and a unfathomably vast universe,
I thought you might be interested to know
Donald Guy Oct 2013
And just like that it's midnight.
And just like that the responsibilities
and the needs of tomorrow begin
to pull on me that much stronger
like I've crossed the event horizon
into what the social mass makes work days
drawing me down into a need for sleep
for which I am unprepared,
because a minute ago ... it wasn't time.
Donald Guy Sep 2013
It's hard to remember. I think so anyway. As change occurs the past disappears.

It's hard to compose. I think so anyway. Thoughts don't seem to come like they used to.

It's hard to believe. I think so anyway. It all seems to be pretty pointless.

It's hard to start. I think so anyway. Though its an important part of doing anything

It's hard to ...

It's hard to …

It's hard to justify. I think so anyway. Repetition is easy, meaning is not.

It's hard to sleep. I think so anyway. Descent to darkness is not my friend.

Is this a poem? I think so anyway. Though its content might be better with a bit of prose

Work in progress. I think so anyway.
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