Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Brent Kincaid Dec 2016
My dictation program has an accent
It types out the most unreadable things,
When I say something like " my bunion stings",
It types back to me about onion rings.
There have been embarrassing moments
When I was chatting along quite normally.
I found myself feeling very thankful
That I hadn't been chatting formally.

The conversation needn't be special,
Nor use any esoteric phrases.
But some of the crap this program prints
Astounds, stultifies and amazes.
It can't be brushed off as an accent thing;
My speech is quite non-dialectic.
Sometimes it seems that Apple, Inc
Wants to render me apoplectic.

But, the way it is I have no human beings
That I can focus my frustration on
When something that company sells at a store
Turns me into an unwitting pawn.
As it is it's an iPhone and I can't pity it
When I hit "send" too fast and seem an idiot.
It’s possible I am asking far too much
Of the current reach of technology.
Even though our phones seem part of us
They aren’t really part of our anatomy.
Tenshu Zninja Oct 2016
antagonistically I am alive

Languish is a two laned road

Misogyny be my name and my role
Pride be my form

The sins of my brothers and my sisters
they be here no more
When my blood rises from the dead
Ebonics will overcome phonics And our lives will be spared

I am done playing politics
done being your diplomat
if you want the olive branch go get it yourself

I am done acquiescing to your decisions and demands
I am prepared to throw up my hands
All I want is to be left alone with my kin
All I want is for my diction to not define who I am
All I want is for peace not to be left a dream

We as a whole are taught that dreams can become reality
That america is a country created and shaped by our thoughts
Yet our reality is becoming nothing more than a nightmare
Someone tell me who thought of this?
How can we turn our reality from the nightmare it has become into our dreams
let us be honest it was never a place for my people
But since we are here can we not claw each others throats out and get back to the problem at hand?
david mungoshi Mar 2016
perfect poise
between diction
imagery and tone
measured rhythms
and true fine feelings
that fall like soft rain
to mirror humans
in tender moments
and coarse grim cameos
of things best forgotten
things nuanced and bitter
this vast field of experience
is the business of poetry
the art of aptness
the art of compactness
and incredible depths
leading to damp squibs
we search nevertheless
for unique form and content
that exercise in futility
till at last we rest from our labours
and we understand at last
poetry like life is a bitter-sweet  illusion
28 May 2018. some re-writing in the last three lines. sounds better to me and feels better too. my thanks to all the guys here keeping my poems alive.
TSK Dec 2014
Another choice
Another line
Another symbol
Another rhyme
Simple diction
An extra word
Punctuation
Pentameter
A mournful meaning
A broken heart
Another poem
It's my art.

— The End —