There was a young lady, Marie
who'd steal, no profit, no fee
take from the rich
with nary a twitch
spreading the wealth, sea to sea

Just think, if the rich gave, we all could be millionaires!
Yeah, right ;\


A digital haiku for a digital age

Computers are easy, people are hard
co-workers need brains, most of them tards
I do as I can, completing my work
god knows that I try, the managers, jerks

Fools on the road, should get out of the way
idiots, tools, the games that they play
they're slowing down, then speeding back up
spilling the coffee from out of my cup

Talking on phone with techy support
stuck in a queue, with nasty retorts
running a script designed for a twit
intellect lost, I'm throwing a fit

It's been said, stupid won't fix
taking our lumps, and taking our licks
populations now, far past the brink
surrounded by a-hos, and none of them think

When did the scales tip towards stupidity?
I must have missed that shift :/

I can’t believe the pain I’m feeling in my abdomen
jarred and shook, a little boy on the edge of a bad omen

His head is spinning and its swirling down the drain
every synapse has been confiscated by the profane

A lost ice pick, astray, swam straight up his vein
hypochondria split and shoved it in two quarters of the brain

Kid Twist took residence in his neural neighborhood
set fire to the scaffolding cause he knew he could

The amygdala speaks only when its not wanted
and leaves the cortex grasping for things undaunted

Survival and adrenaline come joined in battle
trying to stop his being from collapsing to its death rattle

But eventually that second life force chokes up and runs out
the blood sea tide rolls in and carries him to his checkout

Equanimity comes face down in that ocean
and a sweet release calls him to one last motion

I’m going to take flight and leave this world like a blue jay
and right then and there, I farted, and all the pain went away

Why do poets talk about snow and shoes,
but not about potties and poos?
Why do poets talk about fragrance of flowers,
but not about bubble gas showers?
Why do poets talk about sound of bells,
but not about pffftts! and windy fart spells?
Are these poets too shy? Or maybe,
because they don’t go to the park,
because if they go to the park for snowy views,
they will also see lots of folks,
doing Potty Poo.

Haven't ya heard the news?
us men are singing the blues
the ladies can get an AI
a sexbot now, they can buy

That vib they kept in nightstands?
is now a robot-ed man
no ego needed massage
residing in the garage

When she's in the mood
works better than food
satisfied, when she's done
lordy the glee, and the fun

The lady she won
joy under the sun
not having to choose
with no way and no how
too lose

It would appear there is a large demand for mechanical men, in the bedroom :/ (if he only had a heart, or apparently, something else!)
Neha Bhatia Jan 11

Snow outside the window glass
And deadly silence in the class
All of a sudden through the neck
A cloud comes in my nose
And sit at the back
I hold it tight
To wait till the teacher is gone
Then teacher asks me to read the paragraph along
As I open my mouth to read, the cloud bursts
And I sneeze, sneeze, sneeze for long
Water in my eyes and my nose goes red
Then I roll my eyes
To watch around is anything wrong
The class watches me as I take out my hanky
Then read the paragraph all along
The cloud in my nose
Ah-choo! was so difficult to get along.

My childhood experience
Ashley Lingy Jan 10

the sign clearly displayed

the light on

and here we are

you and I

you with 25 items

I with 6

you in front of me

writing a check

if murder were legal

oh, if only

As punctuation goes
it pauses me, I know
simple words should flow
just like melting snow

Every one reminds
thought, that's left behind
the pieces ill defined
as remnants in my mind

I'll strive to keep it down
the comma's bouncing round
mentally run aground
and mechanically unsound

A crutch I've over used
and yes, totally abused
so you can be amused
as guilty, the accused

No slight meant too Johnny Noir, he's right, I use WAY TOO DAMN MANY commas!
But, they are my friends, reminding me that even thought is not a constant flow, but a stuttering, of firing synapses. :)

Comma comma comma comma comma
come and go
they come and go-ooooo
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