It seems like yesterday
That we all have a common item
All within our hands
That can give me more
My bread and water
Can turn to money in abundance
In which I prefer
To sell it all

So he says,

"So come buy my product
By selling yours
I deny all disruptions
That would claim
That they're fake

I promise not to scam you
As long as you give me
Your personal info
And your stock
But if you block me
I will give your computer
A nasty virus
As a ransom"

And I said "no,
I have an antivirus
In which I shall combat
Your scam in which
You try to take away
My life from me."

People on the internet
are like any others
and talking without reason
terrifies us.  

‘Everyone you meet
is the monster under the bed
the skeleton in your closet
the psyche of horror
haunts their dreams.’

Maybe
every fable
we’ve ever heard
is lingering behind
the veil we call
our lives.

Or maybe,
if we were
really honest
for one moment,
a single breath.

We’d all come to know
spooks and goblins
didn’t come from tales told–
it is our personal fears
hiding within the mind.

Our unwillingness to believe
that anyone could come to love us
and the doom that suffocates
is the feeling no one will ever know,
who we are.

If people ever caught sight
of our bones
sleeping underneath skin
they’d run
leaving us with scars
scratched so deeply
we’d never be able to recover.

Giant cable webs from the skies,
Stare at me in my eyes;
Messy wires that crisscross out there,
Are sending transmissions everywhere.
And they make us sit in our homes:
Hooked up to laptops and mobile phones.
And should we step out to meet outdoors:
We quickly look for docks on floors!
In our lives, everyday -
It’s high-tech that we survey.
And though it’s distracting and slows us down;
Keeps us from exploring the reality around;
Can you imagine what it would be?
For us not to be using technology!

I wish you could see me behind the screen
Who I really was, who I really am
If I could see you face to face
Know more than just your name
We could be friends in real life
But you're hundreds of miles away
So I'll dream of meeting you one day

It was a random like
I didn’t even think twice
Just typed it out and pressed send
To start the heart break again

It was a random like
You didn’t even think twice
That little (left hand) heart broke mine
With a random like

I’ll be ******
The internet suits you fine
But I’ll be ****** if I let this chance pass me by
Ill be ****** it seems your life is going well
And if it’s not there’s no way anyone could tell

That was a random like
You didn’t even think twice
That little heart broke mine
With a random like

The downward momentum is clear to me now.
The engine has built up a full head of steam.
I’d try to stop it, if I knew how.

The fires of industry must burn on somehow;
they tend to burn brightest when fuel is extreme.
The downward momentum is clear to me now.

When currents are surging, we shouldn’t allow
the jingoist fringe to swim in the mainstream.
I’d try to stop them, if I knew how.

Civility means more than I can avow,
but poems can only allude to a theme:
The downward momentum is clear to me now.

Each click of a mouse that shouts holier than thou
is a cog in a treacherous clockmaker’s scheme.
I’d try to stop him, if I knew how.

We worshipped the circuit and forsook the plow
in search of a false technological dream.
Our downward momentum is clear to me now.
I’d try to stop us, if I knew how.

The howling maelstrom of wireless
Haunts the air unseen
Blue toothed demonic
It whips up white caps of restlessness
And drives sleep onto the rocks

Blowing through keyboard tickers
And screen flickers
There’s a digital mosquito hum in the rigging
And the sheets fill with an endless cacophony
Of Arabica bean buzz

Your physiognomy is a book
Rolled up like a chart in a tube
The cabin cricket in its cage
Twittering nonsense
And lusts of cute and food
And anti anti anti

Both bullies and victims at the masthead
Squeal and rage and defecate
Raw sewage dribbling down the bow
In a million billion ones and zeros

Sailors lost in foreign climes
With no purpose on land
The motley crew self-gratify
Thinking
Come the dawn we’ll all be back at sea

Not realising
That with the globe at your fingertips
Both night and day are constants
Lash yourself to the mast
Else be washed overboard

All the stars you used to sail by
Have become little more
Than dead pixels on a screen

© 2018 Steve Kelly aka kellyocs