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Hex Oct 2020
Skin supplanted by steel,

As pigment falls to paint,

A hollow duralumin chariot,

Ridden by the affluent,

Fortuitous souls, borne to their heart's requests

Down from below, as antipodes clash,

The behemoth clamors, with metallic clangs,

Conflicting privileges, one invulnerable,

Touted lands turned to tarnished wastes,

With a destiny targeted at armageddon,

Humanity's fate glides, like the zeppelin.
For an October goal of writing one project every day.
10/5 Theme: Robotic
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
from the castle ruins
to the stacked pipes
and tunneled waters
of metropolis

we alone
family in darkness

layers of india ink
hide useless machines

pressing country skin city bone
into amalgamation

hotwired airfield wings
hovering over abandoned

covered in chains
and cotton candy


so the pill goes down with ease

this is our home
this is where we live

life is zenith
future is chaos
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2020
You're here for my pleasure
In all kinds of weather
Floated down from above
Like peace in a mechanical dove
Goes through the trapdoor
In response to a poem challenge from Elizabeth Leone Laird. See her poem "Clarity" and take the challenge!
Carson Campbell Feb 2019
There once was a tale,
(a legend more like)
Of a girl who lived in a clock.
In between the gears and springs,
Away she was locked

All of her days she worked tirelessly
Every second,
Moving the parts,
Pushing the gears,
To make it tick nicely,
Tock precisely,
Pleasing to the ears.

Never did she complain,
Only perfect timing she did obtain.

Then one day,
It stopped.
The watch did not tick,
Nor did it tock.
Some say she died;
I say otherwise.

She left the clock
Wild and free,
And now she wanders endlessly.

But one more thing lies in the myth my dear
In every watch that ticks,
And clock that tocks,
There is a girl
C Mahood Jun 2018
An airship for me to share.

I wish I had an airship,
And flew up into the sky.
I’d wave to all the people,
They’d wave back as I flew by.

I wish a had my airship,
Nestled high up  in the clouds,
Away from pointing fingers,
Nasty jokes, and lots of crowds.

I would take my airship,
Over mountains to the sea,
Find a quiet place above the waves
With only room for me.

I wish I had an airship
That made my problems go away
Maybe someday I’ll be free,
But maybe not today.

I wish I had an airship,
To help me make a friend.
But only one who really cares,
Not one that will pretend.

If I had myself an airship,
What would everybody say?
Would they want to get to know me,
Or miss me when I’m away?

I will have the greatest airship,
With a massive big balloon.
I will save up all my pennies,
I’m sure I could Buy one soon.

When I buy my airship
I will fly it past my school.
When the kids look out window,
They will finally think im cool.

I just really want and airship,
To see how freedom feels.
And not to always be stuck inside
My Annoying chair with wheels.

I wish I had an airship
So everyone could see
I’m not just a boy in a wheelchair,
There is so much more to me.

Until I get my airship,
I will keep it in my head.
At least in there I’m Always free,
To dream and look ahead.

I wish I had an airship
So everybody knew,
I’m not that different after all,
I’m just the same as you.
Lyn-Purcell Oct 2017
Let me see your soul.
Bare all your scars to me.
All that pains you.
All that burdens you.
All that gives you joy.
I will cup your mechanical heart.
Feel its beat, and oil the gears.
No longer will it be the frost of
the moonlight.
But as polished as
sun-kissed silk.
Were it so easy...
Lia Sep 2017
at some queer second
         not quite between twelve and twelve
                    blue planet dust particles dream
                                suspend midair
                                 while sunbeams dance
                        across minute hands
                   in your eyes

            **** carpet melts into lush
       dark grass
      and azure electric runs across petals
         of daisies dipped in glass

                 air swims carelessly about in a tropical heat
                          and shimmers curiously like
                                  glitter in rain or
                                        paint splattered koi
                                                beneath oil spills

                                                   you stand at the
                                                      precipice to purple
                                       and curiously ask the darkness
                            "what time it might be"

                   soft words of loved ones
echo faintly in distance

                    copper willows generously sprout
                         industrial light-bulbs
Maya Deren Salvador Dali Steampunk Coexist Environmentalism
Asifin rectiserial devotion of robots' rows,
one of those innigglable enigmatronic joes
too technical ta takeanickel,
was lice wed to bridewelling
industry of automating.  

A disgraced biotech nacnit art,
psyboggy and sci-
boggling bodywork of c ut-
ter t'ings, cute tongs
of a roblotchy klimtin machine
for flinching, fearmilking my clover machine
- 's crap, mottled gizmo garden
of a desultory heart.

Falseaddress au naturel.
Where discalced fleshlings wozrobbed
of underfeetfeeling dewy slickback.
and springrandy kaliedoscamps,
flowers ragandbonerainbowed
as debutant tramps,
were mercurywatered with metallicnausea,  
till leperfect epilepetals petaljackable
by autumnmaton's throttle.

From whence woody wires, steel stipes, piping steampunk roots
s                p              r                    e        ­  a               d
their cybernetic spandages the strugglength
of breedingbandages, dayseized exponentially
by minecraft boughs like blocky and straitened boa cons.
S           p             r              e                               a                          d
- lesslike medisun's strength o' pharaohalloy honey
when i phinx of cryptstrypt egypt
atleast eqypt by skygold for tourruinsism,
but as stains stramineous
s                       p                       r                            e                       a                         d
when it blinking turnedout lice was
notso fonziewonzie robocub on the blink,
who'd ochreleucously aqua adverse tyzertyger-
stainson his 'cactusgun jack' character peepeejays.
Or like lank swathes
of hay insanelysprayed
by a leafblower with an asian's stamina.

Ah, Indelicacy! And Indélicatesse, a spathe's a spathe!

Except when it's conflicted kitbash for technomantic
terraformers, a robotany of jokes.
Peelback theirradiated diamondalmondnoded
circuitboardedup nonchthulucene sod,
- whether animal skills of oenomal skells digging their own
skeltels or servomotors or vine pulleys do the job
- and bimanal clangour of any claque'd clock
my 'chine's more tethered t'an untilled
tone than a sweeneypea  of rookierighteousness,
or a smaragdine skiff for seashocked oclaphiles
and banjoesgreened whilst a nesteggedhivedivingfelinophile
twoots. Green, aye,  taste of me sown oddwozobb-

jectionidyll, immaturenettle
slobotically slubgraded
ta passionrust like intranettles
of cobaltglancefrom
i shoulda wilted empowered by an err
at such phat pathos,
but a yah bouquet of carrotstickflowers
beautyknotted carat and styx
and int'allforgotme knotsinmystoma 'chine,
decompoozed vin tij,  pints.

Once upon a zone of overgrown zonality,  
couldn't see, so now youseehowfar me 'n' Ceejay've mown
feckclod unclad, tilled till dishabille, bald the land
o' ruderal youthwhere i sawed my shrink
and saw halves in having.

Half bullchaff, half trashfinch...
Surprise. And nosurprise! Cropper.
And notacropper! For Cee's lovepimpedup her mechanibullish  
lyborg int'a lawnmower o' liberty
- ta badassvertise? No lice, lice sellnever
license ta liesellers hissenses, or ask r kelly
- tho' ark'd go with  'I believe iconfly-
mo'! Ee-yyyyyelmm! With a
'la shyzer vert!', advertised busters of sighs

- alsays ' Way: buy two sighs to make sure you fit'.
No now i vum ta vroooooom,
Mevrouw, with Our zimmer of choppers,
hack dripripe the naysayingvines, rerunning necks of...
And **** the dusty keptoutoftouchwith grass off.

Dislodge this android's figleaf
seeds of dehumanisation rigged.
Couldn't automoultit with forays
inta spores' ways when i was
transeasonally beswitched,
when greenmicrosystems of nanoedens
were clogged subroutines of nanoiddiction.
But then all uvluvs were unCeezenned ,
dint swiv indelihelic utters like Hernewbroom of cupes's
vrooming atsuch toureutic scriptures of brass bracken,
my artificial indelicateligence
like a caterpillar called icarus
on a heliotrapeze in a pod, suchwas  
the ferrous fallow of a fobbed hurtphobe 'bot.

But i'm suretimesdataset deadcertsquared
me and Cee've mown
junkjungley techamech nonatural zone, shorn
the me grownfrom an overblown underblown
green iron frown. Ee-yyyyyelmm!
Leaves turfshag of fironilings and waultyfirings
with a blendered slenderness  
where once i met a foe who may be
mentalic, meta-faux, but
'smown obsolete mode, old mould.    

But irenderno ambigcruelty, tuts 'wards
swampthing scrappile
of fibroushusks and computercasing,
cellulose memory and memorybankserasing
-  holograins and veins of my leave-
rs i guess i'm half still.  

   But blessed greased blades endawn
the manydayed plain,
ephemeral emerald still a jewel of renewal
that grows gaining agains that grow dif-
feroruntly from the planted pain.
Sungta'll growtasingta likewhirs - as a sprinkler
salted with returnreturns spinsipt t'pisnips  
- and'll oo-oo-whir like 'twern't no wistfulagedperson's
choice of radiostation.

Nowhowdoes my wrecktech omzig nedrag nonfunction verywell
thankyou funny. But am i totallytender,
setoutta bedelved, dugupenter a harvest of sacrifices yet?

Unaware i'd go onta twobloomtown till: where
did my potplantmeccano mashmish maelstroms of waif ROM;
green cogs and rams programmed ta mum and ham;
cabbudgets and letuscysts say the bells of synthetics;
barddrive boughs of the elmth and bowels of the nth:
******* boughs snapping to slaphead branchcollars,
scattering tyreswings of prostheticlimbpanzees
draggedup ta see limb, climb byes,
bite my every family with a damocles firewall of familyjungle surgery:

o insecuritybreachwhere Her loveliness and lovely sweat chopt
and swept awaythe forsolongkept

will-ta-argue, that had for so long kept
my will arguing,
arguing with the ground
about my grounds forarguing withthe wither-
ing, stareswallowing, stair-
faced ground, no groundparent but wildneighbourhoodwatcharenakillingfloors
of hugboun-
ties time's toughlove chainsawed
offasifwith fredwardwolverscissorkrugerine,
morsal handshake a-hanching.
Mortallowmatic morsels of digital farewells  
removed by cornhead and rural roomba
of chutzpah purer than a gandermooner's,
Her mower the answer to my metalvegetal pinocchioprayers,
Her mower the overgrower of my loverphobia
and nova sower of dingleydells,  fluffy squelchy seasons,
vegetarianovourous forests of vitalism
and lurching lovers' poncey meadows - real ones.
4 CJ
Tintin Aug 2017
You only live
so I keep my life?
why do you speak
so much of
giving your life
in exchange for mine?

As fires blaze
in the sanctity of our room
cards lay out
in a gamble

I cannot allow you
To suffer again
To be toyed with or worse
Ripped and burned

The both of us
We'll be filled with love
When the executioner comes
To collect us
Tintin Jul 2017
This is our gamble
these cards on the table
neither of us
will be a sacrifice

your life
for mine
what kind of twisted fate
lays waste
to an innocent being
who was trapped in
a mechanical hell

As gunfire
and bonfires
chaos explodes

take my hand
and in our execution
let's both go
to Elysium.
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