Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Bella Oct 2017
I really like the idea of a week without technology
it sounds great
it sounds like practicing what I preach
like actually spending time in the real world
the thing is, if I put down my phone…

you see I'm a very loving person
so I surround myself with people who need loving
I open myself up to anyone and everyone so they see me
as an Open Door
one they don't have to knock on upon  entering
I open myself up as a pick-me-up,
as a first or last resort
as a…

people these days, they act fast.
if they ask you a question and you don't respond within a few minutes,
they make up their mind.
people are no longer patient
they make life-altering decisions in a matter of minutes
so if I don't pick up my phone…

if I don't pick up my phone,
someone cut Herself
someone could **** Himself
I could be the person they call before they do it.
maybe I could have taken their hand off the trigger,
convince them to throw out there razor,
in this day and age, it isn't safe... to put my phone down!
Donielle Oct 2017
Our mouths are clogged with lazy abbreviations and shortened versions of intelligence.

Hands bound with all the cords needed to charge and sync and transfer data to our brains, empty of original thought.

Our storage is at max capacity with the lies we're fed and the senseless information we're expected to regurgitate to earn our badge of Respected Member of Society.

But you have an opportunity to do things with purpose. Don't jam your pockets with phone numbers and calendars and one hundred versions of the same picture.

If your pockets are heavy, may they be weighted with the rocks you find while you walk beside the river that calms you.

And if your eyes grow tired, may it be from staring into the distance at the mountains you were born to climb.
A T Soos Oct 2017
Flesh on flesh to fingers on glass.
No longer do I say the words.
Instead the text I type tells you that “I love you.”
The evolution of emotion.
The technologicalization of the hearts fuel,
Makes the organic feel no longer relevant.
No longer do my lips show my expression.
Instead all I give is a kiss from my thumb.
    *
So far away, but my presence lingers in an invisible stream.
Like a ghost I am with you.
Travelling through the waves.
A tower, our connector.  
We love in the age of the screen,
The age of the machine.
   *
Love now feels so solitary.
My heart no longer beats against your own.
Instead the buzzing of vibration beckons my digitized feelings.
I now find myself romancing alone,
Romancing the phone.
<First line in hook all sections sung by three people in unison>
Hook

It doesn't matter what you ar-r-re,
or what you do...
or what you're eating.

It only matters what you sa-a-ay,
how you treat others...
are you com-peting?

<First line in lyric sections sung by three people in unison>
Lyrical body

Walk out your do-or,
walk down, your drive-way
Down the street and...
...see what's happening.

Thousands of people every-where,
but no one's talking
no one see's them!

Step back from the stre-e-et
hear what I say, imagine, imagine...
...do you believe me?

Hook

It doesn't matter what you ar-r-re,
or what you do...
or what you're eating.

It only matters what you sa-a-ay,
how you treat others...
...do they see it?
Do you feel com-pleted?

Lyrical body

Sho-ow-me-something, ever-lasting,
better even...
...than your m-i-i-nd.
Imagination is the power,
nothing you hold makes you a king.

What is -the-e- future?
How, do-you-see-it?
Is no one talking?
Do you believe me?

Tell us your-or future,
can you see it?
Do you feel it?
Come on believe me.

Hook

It doesn't matter what you ar-r-re,
or what you do...
or what you're eating.

It only matters what you sa-a-ay,
how you treat others...
are you com-peting?


Lyrical body

Sho-ow-me-something, ever-lasting,
better even...
...than your m-i-i-nd.
Imagination is the power.
Nothing-your-holding,
makes you a king...
...gives you glory...
...marks The Hour!

Hook

It doesn't matter what you ar-r-re,
or what you do...
or what you're eating.

Hook

It doesn't matter what you ar-r-re,*
or what you do...
or what you're eating.

Fade Out Hook

It doesn't matter what you ar-r-re,
or what you do...
or what you're eating.
God is the Vagabond.

A king is that which he aspires to be?
Joshua Haines Oct 2017
She is attached to the couch
  like a swollen tomatoe;
glued to the TV, supine and subservient.
  Texting while while writing a generic fantasy novel, with the
  televison serving as an audio fireplace,
  she believes she'll be famous despite
lacking concentration, respect, and will.

  O, call to the daycares; a baby is loose --
neck fastened by an electronic noose.
  America come and receive thy child;
harbor a body sheltered from the wild;
  And how could you expect such
sofa fungus to survive? Well,
  first, to save someone else, they
must be alive.
Ira Desmond Sep 2017
The the only real differences
between this reality

and dystopia

that I can discern now

are set design and lighting.
shannon Sep 2017
**** yourself and be born again
to a time you may fit
Where buttons and signals did not exist.
If I were to **** myself and be born again
I would go to a time where love was far from modern
Where signals were only through telephone wires, cable connectors
and hearts.
My hazy head has been disconnected from your heart in this new aged world
and my own.
The love has been deactivated
Your presence has been blocked
My emotional state is offline
And your signal is no longer connected

All because of buttons and signals.
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
Art Sep 2017
Black glass
Hugged by plastic.
A rigid, shiny stone,
Holy and smooth as silk.

It calls upon you.
Its dark face glowing with glee,
its still form
trembling in tantrum.

Eyes gawk eagerly while
dexterously trained fingers
Slide their grease-stained trail
across its blossoming surface,
trapped in vanity.
A technological marvel,
one might say,
it’s glistening roads worshipped and
Truly wondrous.

All the images: moving, smiling, addicting.
The knowledge of the universe, packed into
a tiny, plastic cocoon,
festering, growing, evolving,
eager to be eaten.

Endorsing gluttonous laze, and
Unmasking humanity’s
unseemly colors;
it lulls you in with its
digital spindle embrace, the
sharp strings of data
reaching in through the eyes and
touching the optic nerve.
Neurons swell in ecstasy, pupils dilate, the heart screams;
matter of the brain catches fire in
its electrical storm, and
cascades into chemical ******.

Satiating a toxic lust.
Brilliant glass
turns to black,
stuck to your hand like glue.
The things we worship
We are going
to give you
everything you want.

Everything you have
ever desired; needed.
All of it.

Machines to work,
software to guide
Government to cradle.

We will make
this world perfect
just for you.

No one special
unique, talented, better
than anyone else.

A Status Quo
that will reign
a thousand years!
*

-The Nazis' Party.

Google
Apple
      Microsoft
      Moto­rola
AIG
    Darpa
   Intel
     Oracle
     NYSE
Technology is communism. In ******'s greatest dreams he never imagined software and technology that could **** out the weaker genetics allowing you to abort the undesirables by habit.
Next page