There is something wrong with my programming.
It's the the way I was manufactured.
Wires are crossed and some are missing entirely.

I'll probably short circuit again. Life will leave my eyes as they roll back into my skull and I'll fall down and I'll look dead. If I'm lucky my head will bang into the table and I'll fall on the floor and bruise myself everywhere.
It'll prove I'm still alive.

It's not pleasant, but it's a human thing to do.
Computers don't have seizures.

Old poem that I spruced up a bit. About my experience with dissociative seizures.

The beds aren't made
        The dishes can wait
The bills are due
        The mortgage is late
The socks aren't mated
        Dinner is burned
The dog had fleas
        My friends feel spurned
The garden is ready
        It's time to plant
But right now...
        I simply can't
HTML and close that tag
        Further behind I seem to lag
I'm clicking and linking
       And all that stuff
Life on the internet
       Sure is tough
Send and recieve
      Checking email
"Come to bed"
      I hear them wail
St Peter may be waiting
     At heaven's gate
I hate to disappoint him
     But I'm going to be late
The bottom line?
     What can I say?
My cyber buddies
      Just make my day!

OMG.. This poem was written in the late 90s when I was really just starting out in the world wide web and learning things. Brings back many cyber memories to..  Remember when "you've got mail" was music and your ears? Yes I'm that old lmao
Yaser Jun 4

This heart was born to
hands so cold

Hands that play
and hands that mold

They built it steady
They built it slow

They built it so that
I would know

This poem is written as a parallel to the poem "Machine" that I had posted a little while ago. I'm not usually very keen on unstructured poetry, so I wanted to compliment it with a simple, more lyrical piece
Yaser Jun 4

Observe, oh friend
as it writhes in agony, intangible.

For all that I have granted it -
It feels, yet can not feel
It sees, but still it is blind

For I have blessed it
with accursed memmories
With thoughts that merely aggravate
With dreams, oh treacherous dreams!
Visions that intrude
and strike anguish into the heart
that I did sculpt
with these forsaken hands

For he does live, oh silent friend
Oh yes! He lives!
But will never truly know
what it means
to be alive

Clare Coffey Oct 17

Error 404 not found
I don’t know what went wrong
There is no explanation
For why crazy came along

I installed some new software
I thought that was a smart plan
Try to fix the situation
That’s how my downfall began

Press any key no that won’t work
I need a really fast escape
May be control alt delete
Will sort out this mistake

I haven’t got a back up
What you see is what you get
So deal with the disaster
There will be no update yet

Time to make another plan
Once I work out what’s afoot
My system isn’t working
It needs a complete reboot

Think I will ask the help desk
My head has started to spin
Quick hit the return key
Then recovery can begin

This is what you get when you let the day job into your poetry...
joel jokonia Oct 16


CTRL                     ALT

these three we need

Xaviera Allan Oct 12

Die, please, or
Do your job!
Actually, my friends have normal names
What are you thinking
A computer program built by a toilet
Who CODED You anyway
You're even messing with my poem
Thanks for the apostrophe
Or the 'g' I didn't know I needed (because
I really didnt need it)
You must know me so well, you
Finish my sentences
So maybe you're my evil twin, trapped in a computer
In which case

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