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God gave us the stars to shoot for
so we would have ***** other
than our sister or brother
eager to reach the shooting range we slammed the shuttle door
on our captain’s silver crown
in a sea spilling from His ichor
sack punctured by our hubris we drown-
memes and cat videos worth dying for

We set fire to the shuttle
gasp as our air begins to leave
Amazon(s) choose to scuttle
trees land and humans need to breathe
a musk most putrid rises as we cannibalize our space ex
who’s so far gone as to not come back
her zombie bridezilla tirade wrecks  
our plan it removes futures from the trajectory track

God gave us the stars to shoot for
so we reduced our target to soot
we revelled in our high score
not feeling the pain in our shot foot
and the cats still in secret revery dance their funny jig
sardonic wit stuffed still in every blank screen -small or large-
on the skeleton of our ghastly ghost space rig
reduced to rubble by a friendly depth charge.

God gave us the stars to shoot for
it was we who chose to use a gun
we chose to ram through the door
not checking if it was open
God gave us the stars to shoot for
leaving the details for us to decide
rockets to be built to make war or explore
as shuttlecraft for a human slingshot ride
an arching advance into the beauties of
our Creator made for us to enjoy in love
s Aug 26
bake the cake in time lapse
and boomerang the icing,
mark yourself on the map
but act like no-one’s watching.
swipe along the filters,
pick the gif it deserves,
couldn’t be any simpler,
yet I'm a bundle of nerves.

used to be hard to know
if it’s dream or memory,
but now I think its borrowed
from your Instagram story;
I need to reconfigure
truth from media feed,
it seems I’ve bartered reality
for the comfort of this gleam;

and crossing a trembling icon
on that five inch screen,
is no longer killing the application,
but just a version of me.
Dear __ ,
We barely talk,
we spend mornings and nights
looking down on those rectangular box.
You don't even look at me anymore,
unless it is through the lens of yours.
You can't hear me over those phone calls of yours,
and now my heart sores and roars
for I feel alone.
My voice is not a font
My face is not pixelated
My life isn’t a snap
My emotions aren’t emoticons
My love isn’t a tap
My compliments aren’t comments
I am not down there,
but up here .
MindMooring Jun 17
One charger
One Cord
One Byte
One Support
One You
And One
Digital Universe
jayebird Jun 4
when will this skin transcend into an iron exoskeleton?
when will these bones birth out from neath the fragile wine red wires of self-preservation?
water-hands ebb on about a digital dam of evolution,
meanwhile promising my-own ****** dissolution.
change the channel please
the static is choking me
the digital fuzz
the buzz of the drugs
is all too much to handle
so please oh please
change the channel.
01000110 01110010 01100101 01100101 00100000 01101101 01100101
Would AI more than Human
Any fun correlation between AI and creativity?
and what makes us human?
If it opens with a look at the golem figure
Judaism and the concept of animism
— the attribution of a living soul to everything around.
May Loving and Beautiful World is an immersive digital art work.
By Angel. XJ 25/2019
Darryl M May 9
What has turned of my life?
Of what value are you in it?
Let’s not fake relevance.
Echoes of a dying connection.

Let’s be real.
I took your contact number, so communication can be easy,
And we can meetup.
Not to create a new distant relationship,
Digital love be boring.
Echoes of a dying connection.

Nothing builds,
Nothing touches,
A human being,
More than attention.
Attention structures communication,
Communication foresees relationships.

Let not your emotions be emojis,
Let not your response be status updates,
Fortifications of a convo in burial, can’t be made through texting.

Of you and I,
The future shines through,
But a moonlight.

This isn’t a version of me, I commune with.
This isn’t a version of me you fell for.

Echoes of a dying connection.
Completed: 19th August 2018 [17:39 PM]
Let’s be Real!
Darryl M May 8
We made an order
and we were shipping hearts.
She’s the cap’n.
Got me handicapped.

Sometimes I tease her.
We even have pet names.
She’s a girl with a husk.
I think it was dusk,
when she called me hunk.
Then I took it too far and call her sugar lips.
She took me even further, but I’ll hold it right there.
Or was it nicknames?
I’ll take it with ease then.

Even though what we have is digital.
It won’t be broken even if it gets physical.

It’s like a deck of cards.
She shows me the black heart,
I show her the diamonds.

Tell me you don’t love me.
So I can show you how I don’t care.
Because our love is still on the cards.

It’s funny how I still don’t have her.
I’m a pirate looking for her hidden treasures.
I’m still searching for the key to her heart.
Titled with help from: Andiswa S.N. Mzobe
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