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#screens
A spotlight on an empty dance floor A sunrise no one sees anymore Lonely stars, once worshipped, ignored Even the universe renders us bored Can't see life with our chins on our chests Swiping away days we should have kept Always more more more, yet still feel bereft We trade humanity for vanity not realizing it's theft
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May 16
May 16, 2026 at 3:39 PM UTC
Are we human
Our bones tied to the bed, Our will chained to the frame, Our wanting began to fade As it withered into the shade. Yet, facing our heads, inside our rooms, A cold light loomed A beacon in the night Coloured our faces white. Its hue did call Again and again Amidst the neglect, the mold That gathered in our nests. Cramped by the mess, Too sedated to fight, We abandoned the world For the light of another. At our minds it clawed, Kept our eyes opened Like a speculum hooked our gaze And in a daze Kept us in the haze. Alone in our lairs, Connected by air, We morphed to larvae Inside our cocoons. We spent our days Watching the clock That, on the corner, Ticked as we knocked Thumbs on the letters That spelled the notes Of prisoners Who gripped with lust The bars of their own cells. Yet we cursed, we screamed For answers to our disarray. Silence was all there seemed, Yet, inside the screen, Hundreds of answers Split us a hundred ways. I'd read it, I'd see it Into the light so neat The reasons for our state The causes of our fate Our existence bled the pus Of their greed and lust, They, who injected us With a digital drug That curved our backs Forward as we walked. Our necks stretched As if trying to syphon Pixels from reality, Pixels from the trees, Pixels to fill the cavity They drilled inside our heads. Like snails that crawled the rust And left their slime across the dust, Our lives moved slow As we struggled to grow. Their good word, their trust... Like coins they'd toss At us, tramps, workers, Whipped by day Hooked by night. And into the light we'd ****** Our heads and our hearts Fattened by the stream That fed our ruin An umbilical cord That kept us alive Comatose.
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Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 7:52 PM UTC
Into The Mirror
Our bones tied to the bed, Our will chained to the frame, Our wanting began to fade As it withered into the shade. Yet, facing our heads, inside our rooms, A cold light loomed A beacon in the night Coloured our faces white. Its hue did call Again and again Amidst the neglect, the mold That gathered in our nests. Cramped by the mess, Too sedated to fight, We abandoned the world For the light of another. At our minds it clawed, Kept our eyes opened Like a speculum hooked our gaze And in a daze Kept us in the haze. Alone in our lairs, Connected by air, We morphed to larvae Inside our cocoons. We spent our days Watching the clock That, on the corner, Ticked as we knocked Thumbs on the letters That spelled the notes Of prisoners Who gripped with lust The bars of their own cells. Yet we cursed, we screamed For answers to our disarray. Silence was all there seemed, Yet, inside the screen, Hundreds of answers Split us a hundred ways. I'd read it, I'd see it Into the light so neat The reasons for our state The causes of our fate Our existence bled the pus Of their greed and lust, They, who injected us With a digital drug That curved our backs Forward as we walked. Our necks stretched As if trying to syphon Pixels from reality, Pixels from the trees, Pixels to fill the cavity They drilled inside our heads. Like snails that crawled the rust And left their slime across the dust, Our lives moved slow As we struggled to grow. Their good word, their trust... Like coins they'd toss At us, tramps, workers, Whipped by day Hooked by night. And into the light we'd ****** Our heads and our hearts Fattened by the stream That fed our ruin An umbilical cord That kept us alive Comatose.
Continue reading...
72
Rip it open_ _And the blood spills out_ We watch through our screens as it runs through the streets.                                    |                                    |                                    | We can mute the screams And they come and they wash it all away.
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Sep 24, 2025
Sep 24, 2025 at 11:52 PM UTC
The Things We've Seen
Everywhere I look I see vanity No matter how much I want to avoid it I turn on my screen & it's staring at me Every scroll is another one, head full of air with perfect skin. I don't fit in.
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Nov 4, 2024
Nov 4, 2024 at 10:15 PM UTC
Vanity
It's unreal, the world of the screens, you live in it -- like Don Quixote.
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May 26, 2024
May 26, 2024 at 2:40 AM UTC
[ It's unreal, the world ]
The mundane creeps into me, as I try to wade away ashore with my precious sanity. The rooster's asleep too, like me at daybreak. Yet I drag along, nevertheless. The screen's my public now, and home's my ever-morphing dreamland, that never ends. My limbs yearn movement, lungs yearn the breath of freedom, minds crave the travels. The dreary present dawns into me, as my heavy eyes drift into the lands unknown, unvisited.
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Oct 27, 2020
Oct 27, 2020 at 4:49 PM UTC
a little night thought
i am Orpheus in the clouds playing clown for the masses. i'm half of the shaft of light breaking mosaically into millions of pieces across the kitchen floor. i'm a smoky chandelier swaying with the bravado of a censure on high-holy-day. i'm the royal velvet lining your blood. i am a poem, without reason, read to you by a stranger. i am 200 tons of cracked granite one thousand feet above you splitting off from the face of the mountain. but more so than any of that, i'm a peculiar kind of nothing typing words onto screens before i die.
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Oct 10, 2020
Oct 10, 2020 at 6:49 AM UTC
Orpheus *** nubibus
Nobody cares anymore. Money makes the world go round Not the orbit of the sun. The universe doesn’t matter anymore. They say that we should keep our eyes wide open But their eyes are glued down At the screens that feed them information Whether it is true or false We don’t know anymore We just go with it since we know no better. As you get older You accept the world Instead of questioning it like you should. So many things you could do But you are cut off from it Your eyes are blocked off behind the mask. I wonder how many miles Our thumbs must have scrolled On our screens. “Look at the moon,” they say “Of course,” they reply but once they sit outside They are back to scrolling through their phones. “Slow down,” I want to say “Everything will be okay.” But everyone keeps rushing all the same. They ignore the skies And instead find their gold In cheap, plastic, machine-made stars.
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Jun 26, 2020
Jun 26, 2020 at 7:41 PM UTC
Cheap, Plastic, Machine-Made Stars
the feeling of emptiness fills my chest watching it play out on my screen the sound of laughter echoes and all i want to do is scream a simple, "hey, wanna hang?" would've sufficed but recording the fun we have seems pretty nice "we were thinking of you the whole time" you uttered when confronted such ******** the chills ran up my spine i hate this feeling i want it to go away maybe i just have to start leaving the ones who hurt me today
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Aug 30, 2019
Aug 30, 2019 at 11:48 PM UTC
ignored.
Stare, but don't stop You are unlike any living screen Tune out your mind from the memory of self In a mirror that this you will never be seen Why is it so, that we hate ourselves So much so that we must look away And into the nothingness of ironic things That we spend our time starting at screens away
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Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 1:35 PM UTC
Into A Screen, Away From The Self
Electric snakeskin Draped, casting green-grey shadows Over the pine trees
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Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 10:21 PM UTC
Haiku: Forest in spring
I sit in front of the tv Brainwashed into thinking That this monotonous existence Constitutes living I feel my mind screaming For something more engaging Instead of the useless stuff Seeping from my screen Sometimes the only breaks I take Are just me looking from that screen To another smaller version in my hand I feel exhausted emotionally Unable to engage in many things But I refuse to give these screens This kind of power over me I am a human being Not a lifeless creature I need to find something better To break this habit that's killing my creativity It's killing my energy My motivation My attention span And I will not have it Not anymore I will find something more satisfying More promising in engagement And then I wonder Is this what it was like When books were first written? Or is this unique to electronic media?
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Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 1:06 AM UTC
Trapped Behind Screens
sometimes looking at words on a page or a screen there's some mysterious interplay between the two-dimensionality of words on a flat plane and the three-dimensionality underlying it all visually deceiving as if the space behind the words is both an infinite abyss an undetectable, immeasurable void    and a flat formless surface it's both    and it's neither and somehow typing on a flat-(ish) keyboard but pushing buttons down into a third dimension makes the words appearing on the screen seem almost 3D themselves in a connected sort of way plunging into the white void of the blank screen the keystrokes feel deeper than i think they really are especially when i stare at the screen and let the fingers fly what sort of illusion is this?! or are the words actually the missing link that let us peek to the hidden dimensions we desperately seek? sometimes looking at words on a page or a screen i can't help but wonder these things
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Aug 14, 2020
Aug 14, 2020 at 2:06 PM UTC
infinitely deep flatness
When did our altered    culture decide      that WE        would be happy          with our little screens            and such little stillness              within our lives                ?
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Jan 26, 2018
Jan 26, 2018 at 4:04 PM UTC
Little Screens
white lace and fishnet stockings, baby soft lips and wide green eyes. she ain't naive, she's resourceful, using what God gave her. burns cigarettes like incense, just to make dust fall on the shiny redwood dresser, float like ghosts in the air. it's how she knows ghosts are real—how she knows she's real.
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May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 4:56 AM UTC
SMOKE SCREENS
Waves of hysteria crash against my screen before I flush them away with eye drops of wrath and a brick with your name on it -Richard J. Treitner 2016
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Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 1:54 AM UTC
Violence
"Turn off the television set" "Switch off the films in your head" "Disconnect the internet" "Put away the books you haven't read" "Wake up and go outside and see, And stop all this hiding from the truth - See the world as how it's meant to be, Sunbathe in the garden; on the roof." I think I'd rather live in fantasy (Even if my eyes melt down my face) From watching films, to escape reality, Than wake up to the horrors of this place.
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Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 11:03 AM UTC
My Beautiful Warm Screens
A withered old sage had once retold, How humans used ears and eyes, Deranged and foolish everyone calls him, Believe not the fabricated myths and lies. Radiant was his face when he described thrill and yearning, The word love made him look enchanted and serene, As he wistfully told of things foreign and unknown, To deaf ears and dull eyes turned to screens.
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Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 2:05 AM UTC
Automatons
Window screens filter the outside from the within . And they allow what's inside to escape . Daydreams are filtered in our thoughts . Allowing passage between two worlds , physical and not . But window screen daydreams can be trapped by an invisible barrier , a pane of mental glass on the inside or out .
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May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 8:03 AM UTC
Window Screens