A technological evolution
iPhone stapled to ear
The fear
Of missing out
On our social revolution.

A constant silent disco in our heads
Makes us buzz from work to bed.
Notified about everything
In control of none
An illusion that has replaced our tongue.

The new-age religion;
A martyr to the pixelated face
Of Illustrated connections.

2018.
Loads of knowledge, literally at our fingertips,
Yet no one knows what to do with it.
We don’t want the billions of videos,
Facts, and pictures that are available to us.
As a human race,
We are craving something more.
We crave sunny days,
Gentle fingers through our hair,
Adorable newborn puppies running for the first time.
We crave a cozy family movie night,
Tucking obedient children into bed,
Sending them off to school the next morning with no worries.
We crave the fulfillment that our favorite meal brings,
The joy of spending a day with friends,
The comfort of a good night’s sleep.
Because the simple and everyday things
Are the ones we can never have.

Technology is a speck in my eye that I have to address
If I have one more thing to check I’m gonna get upset
This speck is growing - it’s causing me undue stress
My mind is swirling, but I’m still obsessed

I want to take a break from this mess
Social media **** addiction
Life is a mirror I’m just a reflection
The real I isn’t found in this prism

How many accounts do I need?
How many times should I tweet?
Why do people not like me or my posts when I post a selfie?
How come people don’t comment when I say help me?

Countless minds all kept at bay
Wrapped up like gifts on Christmas day
Follow me, says Steve – love Technology
Just don’t do like I do - because I don’t believe

Buy what I’m selling you, it’s called peace of mind
Here, take another hit, it will blow your mind!
Jobs is a dealer we’re all buyers
But **** it, I’m done feeling so dire!

Stuck in the mire, weird desires
I want my mind back - I want to re-acquire it
Psychological bullets rain their gunfire
I just want to be free – just want to be me

How do I get out of the tech penalty line?
Which course should I take which number is mine?
Never immune but I want to dance to a different tune
So, goodbye tech, goodbye world, goodbye “life”, hello soul!

hopelessness in technology
the beginnings of melancholy
frantically searching the internet for answers
hidden away in the darkest places
I feel isolated in my own mind
I feel isolated in my own mind
who am I?

Alone / not alone.


I saw red roses today.
I saw a tear drop too.
I cannot decide which moved me more…

I…love…you.


I heard the news of the victory;
I heard the world had been lost.
I heard they spoke of peace,
As they worked out what it was.


If a man has a battle plan,
Then you can be sure that he is lost;
The plan will never work.

If a man has a tank,
You will forever be counting the cost,
Against the decision’s worth.

If a man is a man, he would not need to fight,
But I am a man and I am never right where I belong.


I pick up a telephone.
The line is busy,
E.T. is phoning home.
Where he intends to go,
He would not tell us;
I just, don’t, know.


All I know is, I am alone,
When I am not alone.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

Connected.


I need to empty the clutter from inside my mind;
So time after time, I write these lines.
I empty my brain so I can go to sleep,
But when I look at the clock it is half past three.


Beam me up Scotty, to a cloud in the sky,
So I can kiss this night goodbye.
I’m still counting sheep,
To pass the time.


I need to upload all the thoughts inside my mind;
Because this way of clearing my head,
Takes up way too much time.
Just let me be a plug-in baby;
Connect me directly into the internet
And set my thoughts free from inside me.


Electronically discharge me from this chore of a life,
Because inside me I find something else I need to write.
Disconnect me from my mind so I can get some sleep;
A day dream never screams, but this night time is purgatory.
Thoughts are shouting at me, so I must write to find quietude.
The wires inside my head were split,
But thankfully now I have improved.


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

the television sings
the satellite dish keeps twirling on the rooftop with no signs of slowing
I think I've meant to catch it, keep binoculars close
in case it gets too dizzy and ends up on the front yard again
the neighbors sunbathe **** and the sun
hides behind the trees of second hand embarrassment