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Derrick Jones Aug 2018
We are all performing for each other, sneaking furtive looks at our Facebook while big brother watches every move, so we try to be smooth but we’re mostly fooling ourselves, pooling our wealth into the pockets of the few who can exploit our intuitions and inhibitions, guiding our volitions into the abyss, artificial intelligence manipulating with elegance, effortlessly evading our defenses, we’re stuck in psychological trenches down so deep and so dark we keep the lights on with the spark of imagining our face up on the screen, fame or infamy we’ll take whichever if we can live forever, so the birds of a feather flock together, tethering into groups of similarity, reflecting and retweeting to infinity, infinite me, define me and refine me through the digital lens, cleanse me of my subpar self, replace me with an avatar elf, help me be the best and arrest the theft of my soul, life’s terrible toll, free me from reality by letting the real me, the me I want to be, finally be seen. But this method is madness, a pathway to sadness and regret, hours stolen by scrolling through feeds, reality filtered and enhanced, living for likes and shares from people who may not even care, who are just staring at screens, afraid to go outside, to be alive, because reality is out of their control, but maybe unpredictability can set you free, anonymity unraveling the blindfold we hold over our eyes, deflating the ego that social media’s creating, when you look outside and see how big the world can really be, humility sets you free, feeling small in the best way, resting in each day as a part of the whole, no longer constructing a fake soul for a digital audience to see, instead you can finally be. Just be.
For more poetry and essays, follow my blog on Medium at https://medium.com/words-ideas-thoughts
Thanks for reading!
Sean Achilleos Apr 2018
A constant emptiness
A need to want
The want to be needed
The need to be wanted
An oasis of nothingness
Grasping into open air
Everyone's on their own mission
Everyone's on their phone
How brilliantly terrible this is
Nobody has anything to say
In a restaurant everybody is looking one way ... down
Consumed by technology
My best friend
My best friend called Phone
To Love might make you complete
To be loved might make you whole
But who needs Love? Who cares?
As long as you have your little god to hold, right?
But in virtual reality the world can be cold
Spending all your time and energy
Like a battery run down you shall grow old
And don't count on anyone to hold!
Written by Sean Achilleos
30 April 2018©
www.facebook.com/SeanAchilleosOfficial/
Amazon: Sean Achilleos 'An Affair with Life' The Philosophical Poems of Sean Achilleos
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Kagey Sage Sep 2017
We're forgetting the art of talking on the phone for hours and hours
It was better than texting because you could hear each other's voices
in near real time
without having to show oneself
Now you can hide your voice too
and overthink everything you say

It's texting or video chat
You're either the most remote
or as close as you can get
from a near human reaction

You're yourself after you think long and hard?
Not who you trained to be on impulse
Who trained me I wonder?
Me, commercials, parents, environment, or destiny

It's my goal to be a fractured self
that can immerse themselves in the entrails
of any one of these cubbyholes
where have conversations gone
long time passing
where have all our love words gone
long time ago
where have all our love words gone
mobiles took them, every one
when will we ever learn
I hope they will return

where have all the mobiles gone
long time passing
where have all the notebooks gone
long time ago
where have all the kindles gone
turned to tablets, every one
when will we ever learn
there will be no return

where have all the tablets gone
long time passing
where have all the smart phones gone
long time ago
where have all these gadgets gone
been recycled every one
never they will return
never they will return

where have all the users gone
long time passing
where have all the texters gone
long time ago
there lie all the facebooks slain
people try to speak again
when will we ever learn
hope they again can learn
Obviously trying to do a half-serious, twitter-age version of Peter Seeger’s “Where have all the flowers gone?” (My favorite rendering is by Peter, Paul, and Mary)
Masked Voice Dec 2016
In a world
Full of emojis and stickers,
We are no less than robots,
Expressing through dark screens..
Don't you think so??
Sittin' at your table,
...do you need a friend?
Jeremiad; -unhinged, unstable...
...media your sin.

Life's full of doubt.
What are you about?
Can't figure it out?
Shouldn't be without...
...you need a friend!

You lurch about and wonder why,
there's no one angry when you lie?
No enemies, no crowd, no scene.
No videos of you be-ing obscene.

Life's full of doubt.
What are you about?
Can't figure it out?
Shouldn't be without...
...you need a friend!

No wants, no worries, never try,
they'll be no one there when you die.
They'll be no one there when you die?
Light-box your friend, what are you, shy?

Life's full of doubt.
What are you about?
Can't figure it out?
Shouldn't be without...
...you need a friend!

Your phone responds, it talks to you.
Computer, T.V. -video games too.
One day you won't wake up in that tomb.
Having spent your whole life in a room.

Life's full of doubt.
What are you about?
Can't figure it out?
Shouldn't be without...
...you need a friend!

You need a friend.
CDs Jun 2016
funny about the walls we built
       during the hours spent digging
       up the craziest things we felt were
       right from our children's garbage

       why could nobody stop the war
       when it climbed into their laps?

 when everyone's favorite thing turned off
 you could see the sky flickering for miles.


         that day was my favourite day.


         it stood still against the bright
         blue backdrop and you could
         hear the angels taking pictures
         on their smartphones laughing
         about how foolish we were
         for believing in them.

    back then i didn't know how to look at
    all the walls stacking up on the earth
    or at the angels with their smartphones
    but now it sorta feels like maybe
    ive found a place to be near them
    by trains in the union yard
    in the streets walking slowly
    and at home with my feet
    burried underneath the ***** dishes
    laughing about how foolish
                           i am to believe.
Lydia Sep 2015
Tall, skinny, dark skin tanned by the sun
a football t-shirt with his school logo
the same high school I graduated from
walking ten feet in front of his mother
head down, nose in his smartphone
he slows his pace and meets up with her
in the Halloween section
I hear her ask,
"What are you going to do for red ribbon week?"
to which he rose his head for two seconds to reply with annoyed snarkiness,
"I don't know but I'm not wearing anything on my face.."
off he goes
nose in his phone
and suddenly my heart wrenched for her
for him
for that tone and the way he is missing out on this time with his Mom even though it seems so mundane to a teenage boy to grocery shop with his Mother
the saying is true
you won't appreciate your parents until it's too late and you're already grown and out of the house
I felt for myself
I'm having a son
and all I could think was
'what if one day that's me, watching my teenage son ignore me on his smartphone I pay way too much for so he can get on Facebook and waste his thoughts on brainwashing Internet trends, not caring to really talk to me anymore, or even care if I exist'
ConnectHook Sep 2015


A signifying monkey grunted
(keyboard-clever, morals stunted)

from his perch in a digital tree.
And next, did text (quite rapidly):

“Courtship rituals won’t suffice.
Face-to-face can’t break the ice.

Instagram me! Tweet me up…
friend me, like me, buttercup.

Sentences are so outmoded –
take too long to get decoded;

primate sexting hits me faster,
steers me towards your hot disaster.

Female monkeys: send an image.
(Ain’t got time for useless verbiage…)

if your snout just might unseat me
tweet me, greet me – don’t delete me.”

Then, unpeeling fresh banana,
searched his screen for Vox Humana
https://connecthook.wordpress.com/mine/various/

Paul Butters Feb 2015
We friended on Facebook,
Scrolled down our profile pages.
Lived together in a virtual world.
Our images and websites we shared
With Instagram incisiveness.

Meet all my friends.
Block any you do not like.
All busy we are, doing nothing.
Like if you agree.

Laptops were not enough.
Users subscribed to Smartphones,
Iphones, and God knows what.
Google them if you wish.

And if you like my words
Retweet them.
But beware!
I now use words like lol,
And even ***!
Hehe.

Sometimes I multitask,
Flicking TV channels
Like a Subbuteo striker –
Gone virtual by now I guess.
Flicking and flipping while I scroll
My laptop page.

I make new tabs
As I message many friends:
Emoticons exploding
All along the way.

I’m Tivo-boxing clever
All the time,
King of my domain.

So get your VDU lit up
And monitor my words.
Download my thoughts
Into your memory banks.

I hope this all computes.

Paul Butters
Even Shakespeare couldn't use this language!!!
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