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Rui Rosa Jan 12
We meet at "discord"
over an IPv4 connection
Talking for hours through microphone
Your electronic smile has awakened,
a feeling that the CPU does not process
You entered my HDD with your virtual love,
which filled so much space of illusions in RAM,
So much that it gave Blue Screen
A love story with some tech knowledge
hum...habit...hic...abbott woozy
celebrating with British Royal Family
     and...hub bout red dee
     to take a snoozy
sup...par'n...this poet
     fur...hib bit..bing a lil oozy.

Now this raggedy man
whilst deep in sleep
this past night what felt like galactic body
     fell upon ma slumbering heap
affecting immediate fear
     lest worst nightmare,
     would crush with might
but lo…just then zee spouse
     plunked herself
     with unconsciousness deep
unable to recapture pleasant dreams
     well nigh past day light.

So...rather than emit shrieks
     like some angry birds
the idea arose to attempt poem
     to express discombobulated state

whereby grey matter feels
     similar to thick whey curds
palliative sans restorative power
     per rest will clear muddled pate

thick with grogginess
     and marauding herds
of mailer daemons worse
     than unsuitable mate

or a world wide web filled with nerds
thus lethargy purged
     via catharsis with forming words
that follow rhyming pattern
     to convey mood = to a synonym for turds.

respite from a cat nap as tonic no lion here
can spell relief and serve as balm
with pillowed temptress ever near
beckons softly inviting calm

before this human
     goes a berserk manic tear
being revisited from haunts
     inside head of this scrivener
caught by men in white coats
     strait jacketing this maniac

     in tattered under wear
whose ***** by the way
     oh about the size of an average palm
yet taut for witnessing
     deux score plus eighteen mortal year.
adira Feb 2018
the noise the noise it hits me like a speeding car

the light so bright it turns me to tar

blinded by light and deaf from sound

I feel a ram of loss dig me into the ground

the intensity of the senses mushes my brain it flings me around and

around bringing me chaos

every single day
JGuberman Sep 2016
Until I lose my voice
and no one listens
the unsaid words of love
will accumulate
inside me,
and will appear on my face
like the flashes
from an electronic sign
whose bulbs have all blown
except for two or three
intermittently appearing
like a code
that no one but you
understands.

Until I lose my mind
with no one's help
the unthought thoughts
will accumulate
and be sacrificed
like my greatgrandfather,
an Isaac who wasn't spared.
And I, an Isaac who was,
was born under the sign of the ram,
to be sacrificed in other ways.
My Great Grandfather Isaac was Reb Itzik ben Reb Avraham ha-Cohen Elowitz b in Vilna c. 1869 and was murdered in an Aktion along with his wife, three daughters, son in laws and grandchildren at Byten in what is now Belarus (1942). I am the grandson of his sole surviving daughter.
JGuberman Aug 2016
Before I could be taken to Mount Moriah
before a ram could be found to replace me
before I was a redeemed first born
the ram was left unsacrificed
the redeemed was lost
and the first born
became the last.

And all the martyrs who were lost before my birth,
are still lost despite it.
I have become a singularity
a new word in an old Darwinian lexicon
an irregular verb
without plural
or future tense
unique in every respect and definition
save all who would follow after
and not be of me
or ever could.
JayceeJellies Oct 2015
The only anagram that I can't stand to read
is one that was just between you and me
the nag a ram was simple and meant a million things
at least it did to me
At times I wonder if it meant half of those things to you.
Rachael hays Aug 2015
chemical romance without any bars,
tub full of hot water,
water glass filled with wine
would I love you If I had you all the time?

I think I’ll wait

LA rituals come easy
once we discovered our time zone
a rolley between my fingers
a whisker on my tongue

your ram
has my eagle flying
you set me ablaze
and the Phoenix rises from our ashes

East - west - East - west

~Rachael Hays, 15A15
Rusty dusty pick up trucks
Old Fords and busted Chevys
Trucks that tear the road apart
And some stuck down the levy

Showing off at the truck show
All polished up and nice
When an old man in a beat up Ford
Looked us over once or twice

It don't matter how the cover looks
It's what's beneath the hood
You may look awful pretty
But, with no power...it's no good
You wanna get the ladies
Remember, it's what's beneath the hood
Although they like a real good ride
There ain't no ride, if there's no wood

I smiled and I watched the gent
Walk and laugh and smile some
He'd mumble something to the girls
And they'd follow to where he'd come

His truck, was old and battered
Wasn't tricked out like the rest
But, when it came to having girls around
This old man was the best

It don't matter how the cover looks
It's what's beneath the hood
You may look awful pretty
But, with no power...it's no good
You wanna get the ladies
Remember, it's what's beneath the hood
Although they like a real good ride
There ain't no ride, if there's no wood

A truck may last a long long time
But you've got to use it right
You've got to check the engine
And try to run it every night

I remember what the old man said
It's about what's there beneath the hood
The girls don't want it pretty
The girls, they want it good.....

It don't matter how the cover looks
It's what's beneath the hood
You may look awful pretty
But, with no power...it's no good
You wanna get the ladies
Remember, it's what's beneath the hood
Although they like a real good ride
There ain't no ride, if there's no wood
Focus too much on one man or his human words
Be it Christ, Buddha, Krishna or Ram
He is crucified! and the light is gone!!
If it can not be prevented
And help them be in peace in this world we call real,
Rules of the Heaven, subtle and known but to them,
Will lie hidden in mere words, empty as the sky, for ever.
2015-03-20
Frank Ruland Jan 2015
It is the Year of the Wraith--
a ghoul rises from the grave
They are here for your faith,
and they will have it before 365 days

Last year's ruins fell right through
the cracks of the calendar,
onto the things we hoped to do,
as the rubble triggers a massacre

Say goodbye to the Horse and Ram
The Horse has galloped away,
and the other doesn't give a ****
The Wraith is here to stay
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