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effie ebbtide Oct 10
oh LCD night! the incandescent yesterday
is burning to the touch--
my cathode-ray tube dreams, once switched off,
leave a film of electricty that leaves a shock on your finger
whenever you touch the doorknob.

the streetlights turn off when i step under them
and only when i look to them they glow.
i must have passed by this light a thousand times
and not once did i stop and think of it as anything
but a dim, yellowed, moth-ridden reminder
of the departed souls of roadkill
underneath.

how many secrets are hidden beneath this concrete?
how much bubbling rage does gravel conceal?
remember
MicMag Sep 19
Hey there fellow writers
And/or readers of HP
I just want to know
How you read our poetry

Do you swipe and tap
On your mobile phone?
Or open your computer
To browse and click in Chrome?

Or maybe you're a technophobe
Or traditionalist snob
Perhaps you print out all the poems
To avoid the online mobs

Whichever of these methods
Tickles your own fancy
Please respond below
For I'm growing rather antsy

Cause I'm stuck in a pickle
Unsure of how to write
With browser variations
Poem spacing isn't right

So which way should I choose?
Dear readers, help me please
Mobile, web, or printout?
Please put my mind at ease!
Feeling frustrated with how the spacing shows up differently on mobile vs desktop browsers.
So I'm curious how most people read poetry on here.
Help me with my technical optimization and lemme know how you read!

Reading stats so far:
32 views
1 mobile & desktop
31 no response
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.
Dylan Jones Aug 22
Connect me please, I can't be alone
It's so dark without my screen
A piece of you stuffed in a pocket
A disease aimed to please

Leach the life from your host
Spread your posts, gather the likes
Between the fingers rests a drug
Without it can only be death

Powers that be create anew
Upgrade to another addiction
Eyes will dry up from the attention
You'll never be alone.
I sometimes fight with myself on how often I spend online. It's how I relax, how I sometimes work, how I feel myself. Yet a large part of me wants separation, to be out in the woods without flashing lights and the sounds of videos. Yet, we all know that there would be a phone in my pocket. You know, "just in case".
Carmen Jane May 14
The little kid looks at her mom
Astonished of what he can see
Giant drops of apple juice,
Dropping down her cheeks.
Drip, drop, on the round table,
Black like the night,
Across from her, behind a screen
It's dad, emerged in problems solving
The little kid, now sees the apple,
It's litten and it's  bitten a bit.
Humble Mar 19
Heartbreak,
is watching your phone
fall and then your screen cracks
looking like Spider-Man's web.

Until then,
you haven't experienced heartbreak.
Ughhhh
Steve Page Mar 15
Movies are
at their best
tightly scripted
bravely casted
boldly acted
richly promoted
highly rated
Poetry
Some movies move me.
Alle Jan 11
you reach forward,
stretching to take
my hand in yours,
but when i reciprocate
and extend my hand
all my fingers brush
is a cold screen
and i realise
you were just an image,
a figment
of my imagination
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