Johnny Noir Dec 2017

Vasili Kandinsky, Sally Rand & the Bauhaus
were way out ahead of their times,
the Beatles & Stones were retro then & avant-garde now---
porn is instantly retro;
not just any music is avant-garde but any naked woman
is no matter what she does or is currently doing,
Bettie Page & Marilyn Monroe,
Virginia Woolf even in their graves
Are ahead of their times;
Marquis de Sade & Masoch avant-garde;
Jean Genet retro---Blaze Starr avant-garde,
Lili St. Cyr modern & retro---Paul Klee avant-garde,
Marilyn Monroe both Modern & retro (A Gibson girl reborn---Elmer Batters a throwback w/ a camera---
To Diamond Jim Brady he & Lillian Russell were avant-garde---one day we will all be rich & naked,
dripping w/ jewels & connoisseurs)
Sol Lewitt retro; Judy O’Day modern,
To the DPRK, Kpop is avant-garde---
No one called William S. Burroughs a Modernist---
Not to his face anyway, nor Hunter S. Thompson
but the critics did call Thomas Wolfe a Modernist
& avant-garde---F. Scott Fitzgerald heralding a new age
that passed away w/ Zelda in the madhouse inferno
& Scott trying to write screenplays
but movies were retro by the 30s
& the avant-garde already history---
Modernism vanishing decades later w/ Basquiat
& Warhol & Schnabel & Fischl et al---
Martha Graham was Modern, Isadora  retro
all the way back to ancient Greece naked & barefoot---
Robots get smaller & put u out of a job,
yet so efficient fembots become a reality---
Putting women out of work in a world
where no one needs strippers---
living in a technological delusion w/ the illusion of religion
confusing their imploded minds---
The world will always need stripper retro,
modern, avant-garde & beyond
from the beginning to the end of all time,
in the Crazy Horse multiverse,
When no one needs prostitutes
only drugs will do---drugs & technology, global psychedelia,
Nationalism, racism & violence are all so retro;
Modernism has simply ceased to exist
& the avant-garde has yet to be---
Women would dance naked for drunken men---
Not anymore---now it’s fembots playing virtual games
w/ video dildos
Toulouse Lautrec & Eugene O’Neill
were avant-garde but not modernists---
Dita Von Teese is postmodern as am I
& Lady Gaga & Bettie Page & Blaze Starr to this day---
Let she who is w/o sin cast the first stone
at the ghost of go-go---
No one ever complained
about an old-fashioned cooch show
except the girls that were in it
although they loved it & would do it again & again
well into their sixties, seventies, eighties, nineties---
No one complains about long forgotten stag films
left in boxes on basement floors
showing grandma w/ the neighbor
circa World War Two and into the 1950s---
No one complains about sexual harassment
unless they’ve been harassed---
No one complains about rape
except those that have been raped & not always then---
No one complains about murder
except those that have been murdered---
No one complains about postmodern burlesque
Although the rule is ‘if anything moves, kill it’
& if any man reaches for his penis, arrest him---
The Modernist/postmodernist Marcel Duchamp’s
bride stripped bare by her bachelors even
gets no complaints from MOMA or  any other mother---
I can’t wear this mask anymore
& there’s nothing behind it---
If I kicked ur door in & shot ur mother dead
several times just to be sure
she was fucking deader than dead
& said I must have made a mistake, would that be cool w/ u, officer?
The Frankfurt School & Fassbinder & poststructuralism
are the heirs to Maria’s estates
from Frankenstein to Superman,
At the school of the Soviet fembot---
her Japanese mother is a witch who is not a stranger
to myths of night; eating off dirty plates on the floor---
Her name was Amelia then---
She’s a pig tonight---
I & the son are one
with the background radiation---
Getting people to help her
carry her cum-stained mattress
around campus is neither modern, retro & or avante-garde---
Its plain disgusting, help me carry my cum stains across campus
So you can see where my period bled & I said no---
(The ancestors of the the fembot are not strangers
She is named Emma tonight,
she is the pig tonight)

It is predicted that by 2050 (approximately 30 years from now) androids will be commonplace; most functions given over to computers. The entire working class will be automated, followed by white-collar workers whom are essentially bots; i.e., no bosses, no workers, no media; just robots & homeless, drug-addled & addicted humans. Say good-by to homo sapiens & hello to homo technos.
She Writes Nov 2017

I often find myself longing for
A kiss I have yet to taste
Skin I have yet to touch
Eyes I have yet to gaze upon
How do I miss these things
I’ve never known?

I want to tell you of a special man
Who looks after me, and holds my hand
You may ask "how can this be? "
"When he loves so far across the sea? "
It's very easy, As you will see
I was sad and scared, the next I knew
I was recieving a file over Yahoo!
As I opened the file my eyes filled with tears
I've never recieved such a gift in all my years
There on the screen was a picture of his hand
One that he had just recently scanned
I looked at his hand and of all the gifts I have ever recieved
None have compared to the thought
Of him sending me his hand to hold
It was better then diamonds
Better then gold
It was sent with love for me to hold

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
Zero Nine Oct 2017

My human body      
              stings of age
                     ache and pain
My human bone
My human strength

My human form
              twists, deforms
                     courts mirrors
My anxious nerves
My fragile heart

Make my limb
Make my life long
Take my parts
Make me evolve

make my limb                                                                                        

                                                                                     make my life long

make my heart                                                  

                                              beat, eternal            

I long for painlessness
Bless this beautiful ship I control,
but I would trade the ephemeral
  flesh, bone, blood and marrow
to the first back alley broker
of cheap plastics I meet

get me out of here, quick.
Wes Rabbit Oct 2017

If there's a human contact or touch
That's how it will go...

"I am hollow inside
I meet you on the network
I feed you some lies
I force you to swallow
I let you know - we're taking it slow
& when I get bored - I ask you to go
As if nothing happened”

Only if you try to see
It is as simple as it is
You are my temporary distraction
You can't fill in the vacancy
& your greatest flaw, oh Elliot?
It's just that you are beautiful
& I don't know - who I am anymore

"Everyone is an idiot
Everyone is so cool
My dear Elliot, what did you do?
Don't you see, they're all struggling
But they hide it better than you
My beautiful Elliot, what did you do?"

There are so many people
but who wants to talk?
When I'm confused I go on long walks to nowhere, I get lost in alleys
& when the night wraps it's starry
Blanket around me - I cease to feel
What is so beautiful that I cannot see
As if somebody stole all the stars from my eyes and
Replaced them with buttons
you & me - I cannot see

a first
family has
never ending
wilt this
statistician's score
and old
yeller on
top of
the scene
there with
his bullhorn
only there
to shout
as his
tweets mount
across the
inteenet dial

NEELAM Sep 2017

Condensed solid matters escapes into thin air

Fluctuating visceral vibrations fills the vacuum

We are invaded by alien energy field

Which alters the perception and mutates the sense of reality

This is surreal , sublime war zone

And we are blissfully blinking away the aural waves

Accepting the foreign particles as the natural elements

Distorting the space and warps the mind

I don't recognize my fellow beings

For they have turned into semi conscious cogs in this vast machinery

Salman Jun 2017

Who am I
Am I someone you love
Someone you like

Or am I just ordinary

Because if I was ordinary
You wouldn't make fun of me
You wouldn't do such mean things to me
Just open your eyes to see

Look inside me you'll see
Someone who is a human
A person
A son
A student
A child

So why do you do this..

To see me cry
or to laugh
At me

And when you finally realise you say sorry
But you say sorry
When your too late

No apologies now
Just the guilt of a death in your hands

Maybe, see before you say
Or it could be another life your taking

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