"acronyms" poems
Millennial
Millennial
Millennial
Some idiot coined that for those of us that weren’t born yet
What happened?
To the baby boomers
Groovy hippies
Manson getting married, what about me?
Generation X
Generation Hipster
Assassin
**** yourself
Nobody said that I was a millennial until I read it from the internet
Something that should be shot dead like those on TV
“Everything was better when we were young”
No it wasn’t
It wasn’t me it wasn’t me I didn’t mean to die because you hated me for what I was
Are you still racist? Prejudiced
in America?
Millennial
Millennial
Millennial
Narcissistic
who are you calling self-obsessed when you were always dangerous
we didn’t want to live from the womb which was like our tomb
Catastrophe
Legacy
( I spat out some computer wires today and I’m not going to apologize for it as I’m a millennial, we got to call Frank Black tonight)
Millennial
Millennial
Millennial
Millennial
I’m in over my head
We speak in acronyms and random slang
She had a baby and the baby’s going to be apart of the next and final generation
We’ll be dead we’ll be dead we’ll be dead
Millennial
Millennial
Millennial
Millennial
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 8:39 PM UTC
The literati are moaning
about the crowning
of a comical smiley-face
with tears of joy
springing from its eyes
as Oxford Dictionaries 2015
"Word of the Year"
it's historic
indicative of a generation
raised on media shorthand
though some people think
the distillation of thought
to acronyms, symbols, emoji
is a bad thing too
but in these icons
heavy black heart
face throwing a kiss
reversed hand with middle finger extended
even the simple : )
I see emotion
stripped bare
the whole gorgeous
heart-rending, horrible
hateful range of it
illustrating the dark
and light
of who we are
as a human race
So I say hail and welcome
to the "tears of joy" emoji
may his vivid counterpoint
shine around the world
eclipsing all the words
we've learned this year
for hate.
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 11:29 AM UTC
In high school
we learn of logarithms, iambic meter
how to balance an equation between zinc oxide
and excess hydrogen gas–
only to find there was no reaction to begin with.
We’re told that colleges get to know you
through three letter acronyms—ACT, SAT, GPA…
and our name is somewhere in the application.
It’s repeated to us to the point of meaninglessness,
like a perpetually chanted word:
Grades, scores and testing, testing, testing.
The students they want know everything
that will be forgotten by their thirtieth birthday.
I anticipate the day
that our Geometry teacher is to write an essay
on the individual’s struggle
against a systematically inhumane society
in Orwell’s 1984
only to receive a “D” under the scrutinizing eye of
the honor’s English teacher
Or, perhaps, the day someone in charge
is faced with some insufferable fate
the textbooks call chemical stoichiometry,
thirty years after repressing memories
of having to memorize the periodic table
Socrates once said that the youth today
will be the demise of civilization.
We contradict our parents, are smug in the face of authority
and tyrannize our poor teachers—
a youth who will ultimately leave behind a world
too damaged for our children to inherit.
Funny he said this
roughly 2,000 years ago–
I think my dad said something like that last year.
But, until the day we grow up to pay taxes
and marry someone we despise,
we’re just stupid teenagers.
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 11:37 AM UTC
In high school
we learn of logarithms, iambic meter
how to balance an equation between zinc oxide
and excess hydrogen gas--
only to find there was no reaction to begin with.
We're told colleges get to know you
through three letter acronyms-- ACT, SAT, GPA
And the students they want know everything
that they'll forget once they turn thirty.
Little do we realize
that if our Geometry teacher were to write an analysis
on the coexistence of good and evil in To **** a Mockingbird,
he would likley receive a "D" under the scrutinizing eye of
the honor's English teacher
Nor do we see that the art instructor would freeze in her tracks
faced with an assignment filled with the insufferable fate of
chemical stoiciometry
Socrates once said that the youth today
will be the demise of civilzation.
We contradict our parents, are smug in the face of authority
and tyrannize our teachers.
Funny he said this roughly 2,000 years ago--
I think my dad said something like that last year.
But, until the day we grow up to pay taxes
and marry someone we despise,
we're just stupid teenagers.
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 8:36 AM UTC
8 AM
It’s time for a square outfit
and
a Smile No.3
I look further in my agenda:
7 PM
My apron is due,
Pizza Hut perfume.
11 PM
I’m a wild cat
with lipstick, cherry red.
So many roles to play:
Daughter, Mother
Sister, Friend
Colleague, Boss
Student, Teacher
Wife, Lover.
So many acronyms to wear:
Miss, Mrs.
B.Sc., M.Sc
Ph.D.
When it’s time for me?
To wear I?
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 5:32 AM UTC
Let me apologize to begin with
For the way I have to say this to you
Instant and digital with the flawless
12 point form in a unison moment
All these words flow like lies from a child
And flawed, a 1984 Brave New World
Jacked in and online, I swear to God
Microsoft is a virus in my veins and the
Side-effects leave me nauseated and yet
Comforted with the connection I feel
With everyone under this epidemic
And Mac is a twisted strain of my particular
Insanity. Glossy and chic in my pocket, on the go,
Steve Jobs is the ancestor of Doctor Wily
Making *** some bandwagon that needs jumping
Like SkyNet will make me safer, I’ve heard it before
I wish this paper was yellow and crackling
With the orange firelight it was written under
On a sofa, pipe in hand, with the Raven tapping
Melodramatic to the point of genius
Rather then the cliché that emotion has somehow become
And abbreviations become acronyms and symbols
Who has killed the fair maiden of language?
Beautifully laid and strung, pearls upon my page
Folded into my pockets and on the margins of reality
Like a child unwilling to wait to show his parents
The words escape and flee and I panic, pen trembling
Mind to tongue to hand and nerves in the ink
Like meter and scheme trying to restrain this infinite
Strand of DNA that is the flawless combinations of letters
And letters! Curved like a woman tempting and pleasing
To round my pen and finding sanity in the corners and points
Or the cursive dribble of calligraphic art practiced endlessly
By the scholars, monks, orphans, or even the X of a slave
Bearing his mark, leaving himself branded on the page
But I most apologize, I will get carried away
And that is not the way Times New Romans likes it
Mar 15, 2011
Mar 15, 2011 at 7:23 PM UTC
Jotting down a few words
As I update a journal
Influences of her perfection
Adds a status quo
Marvel by her ways
I put together a sentence
Like a songbird
Verbalizing a perch
No dictionary can match
Her superb dialect
Barriers of longevity
I discovered myself
Doubts in her words with captivity
Lost in a colloquial speech
No woman on earth moves
As if she does
Intriguing to the thoughts
Her grammar
Has many episodes
Which causes drama within
Shall I abandon
What have I learned
Knowing my love
Is just a few acronyms
Can sell no less
In terms of our
Endearment
Apr 6, 2010
Apr 6, 2010 at 10:43 PM UTC
ι'μ σεεινγ
αν ωπτωμετριστ,
ανδ ναι, α γρεεκ;
i had a cyrillic (
с-у-р-у-л-ьи-ч?
celery... celeriac kayak?!)
optometrist
once, but it didn't work
out;
back to celeriac kayak canoe...
the explosion
of acronyms
and emoticons [ :) :( ;) :'( ]
in the english
language sparked the frustrating
chaos
of optic carousels.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 1:38 PM UTC
I found you in
peeling silk shadows
and socially unacceptable acronyms.
I met you
and you remade me
in the image of self-realized dreams.
Frayed heartstrings
blossom
from used ***** dealerships.
Spinal cord columns, rib rotunda,
cranium cabaret and Lazarus lungs.
We hugged on collarbones and
loved in dimples.
We ran.
We ran along shores we never knew,
skirted expectations like cliff-side raceways.
Somewhere
along a three way road of cobblestone delusions,
at an intersection of gas stations
advertising ninety-nine cent perfection,
we misread the legend
and the map lied anyways.
There are no u-turns in relationships.
You made me dependent upon
perfectly posed pixels and
lacing my fingers with the air.
Half of lace is empty space.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC
In the middle of folding laundry one afternoon
thinking this might not be a big deal
but then again it's not such a bad way to spend the day and
the back door opened and
my neighbor showed up in full paintball gun attire and
pointed his paintball gun at me and
yelled at me to get on the ground!
i smiled and
put down my child's underwear and
grabbed his Buzz Lightyear sound and
light activated laser gun that he had recently gotten for Christmas and
aimed it at him and
yelled NO! You get on the ground and
then 40 men rushed into my house and
at least 10 of them had rifles and
i was thrown down on the floor,
wood floor,
right cheek made direct impact and
**** that hurt and
i heard a shout of a voice ordering the 10 men with the 10 rifles pointed at my head
not to shoot and
that the shoot to **** order was off,
that it was a toy plastic gun,
he repeated,
it was a plastic children's toy and
in one fell swoop of motion my right shoulder was taken out of its socket and
**** that hurt and
twisted around behind my back in order to handcuff that hand to my other hand and
stand me up and
walk me out as I watched dozens and
dozens of what i could only presume to be storm troopers from the Star Wars movies wearing white protective gear covering their shoes bodies and
faces entirely
spilling into my house with the great invasion of an ant colony and
several groupings of men in black pants and
black shirts with white letters on the back spelling out different acronyms such as S. W. A.T., and
K.B.I, KDH&E;
The storm troopers were actually Bio HAZ MAT men
testing to see if the air quality in the house was higher than their acceptable limits of
risk of having a chemical explosion occur
while in the house on that afternoon of January
when officers of the Sheriff’s Office Special Operations Group
executed a search warrant at my house on Main St.in my small town in Kansas and
made entry at the location and
took me into custody while
Certified **** Lab Techs from the Sheriff’s Office
collected 2 Mountain Dew bottles and
some rubber tubing and
rendered the items safe and
Agents of HazMat Inc. were contacted and
responded to collect the hazardous materials for disposal
I sat in the back seat of the cop car and
thought this might be a big deal
this could be a bad way to spend the day
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 2:42 AM UTC
I mixed liquid nitrogen
With my *** juices
Now I'm cool as ****
Interested in interesting intellectuals
Bringing bacon back, bread-bringing *******
Alliterating alliterative allocutions allowing abusive acronyms
For goodness and badness
And for some ugliness
Here’s the facts and I’ll lay them down right:
I’m a ************* sorcerer
And I don’t finish lists
Irony in the ironical first-person
I left someone behind when they told me to
And now I’m better off,
Know this poem’s for you.
Every time I see your face, I really hope you’re doing well
But deep in my mind I know that nothing’s changed
And you’re still the same, as I’m trying to change
To be a better person than I was when we met
But it’s something that you never noticed, yet
Something inside of me says we’re polar
Opposites and what really happened
Was for the best, for both of us
So I still keep in touch with
Friends around you
And I hope secretly
That you fall in
Unending mercy
And that I’m wrong.
Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 10:43 PM UTC
I don't see kids get excited anymore
Emotions confined to the definition of what's cool.
Conversations limited to replies,
Thier words uncertain, and lack conviction.
Excitement caged behind paraphrases like "oh ok", "cool" and "for real".
I see the light of a childs spark diminished, there beautiful flame extinguished by words like;
"Calm down""Relax" and "Chill out"
I'M TIRED of seeing a childs expression voiced through texts, instead of emotion
I'M TIRED of seeing acronyms convey action and supress expression
I'M TIRED of seeing children automate experience through technology instead of life
I'm saddened.....
I'm saddened to see children trying to play adult, instead of just being children
Jan 17, 2012
Jan 17, 2012 at 5:59 PM UTC
what a pity
spent the last few years idling in a thin sense of self;
amid outstretched pores looking to photosynthesize more eccentric disposition
even though i know you know my woes consecrate through the spirit, through the veins
what i have shown you is thicker than blood–better count your blessings
so HA! neglect wont erase the ways ive molded your mind
its a gift, to
ditch reason for compassion
to breathe vanity
to breathe immortal sorrow…
my most absurd suggestion yet, now listen closely:
when the tips of my fingers freeze over, let sleeping mountains lie
do hate, but dont devour it;
holy holy holy holy hold the past like a knife
apologies for my insincerity but you must understand…
**** what is left of me?
trembling and then the blade clutters aloof, to and fro and to
i cower from the vision of my wicked phantom,
skin stretched tight over my bones–yet do what He says, for
He makes ruin a honey-like intoxicant
omega three, anti-this anti-that, acronyms galore,
each a little dose of layers of
Him, unraveling atop my fragility
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 6:41 PM UTC
your left breast;
we were talkin'
about cosmonauts.
heads in the clouds
with no want or
worry to never see
this sphere's crust.
we would disconnect
from they. with no
lies from the eyes
we open'd palms in
welcoming fashions.
your right breast;
lying on fetid couch,
nodding off and the
ambience was a dri-
ving bass line. little
trickle, claiming no
worse than usual.
nod, and trail'd off.
slurs and abbrevi-
ated acronyms. sta-
nding in awe of emoti-
onless lack of reaction.
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 4:11 AM UTC
left alone with him, he undressed my mind;
bathing me in sweet acronyms,
traced upon curve in calligraphy
while whispering in prose our dreams
and...
he'd dip his quill; inking upon my skin,
noun's and verb's I'd absorb into my heart
then...
my poet, whispers again sweeping
me off my feet in syllabic count;
taking control of all my senses
while...
arching into masculinity his muse
would run wild against femininities
curvaceousness
wet...
lips began to taste his own poetic
prowess upon the breadth of me
and I'd simply smile into him
knowing...
his poetry is written solely for me and
I'd glide tongue across his lips like ink
against parchment
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 12:48 PM UTC
If I knew how to strike up
a conversation I'd have stacked
matches to the sun set and back by now
so when you rose in the morning
you'd wake to find your name in the sky
But as it stands I am not the man
who created fire nor the one after
who dabbled in it's practice
No I am the one quietly admiring
the glow from afar yearning for it's warmth
Carefully masking my intent
by tossing acronyms to the wind
I'll play the failure eagerly
awaiting your approval
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 11:51 PM UTC
via damaged left into ordaining right -
mandarin pictographs -
or akin to English
acronyms with missing prepositions,
conjunctions and other shrapnel bits...
they write u.s.a. but say
united states.. of.. america...
writing acronyms in english
is like writing mandarin,
all the little words are missing...
and the little words should be missing too,
but what false celebrity gives
is what false citizenship gets...
you write english in acronym you're basically writing
chinese... there's a billion of them...
i don't know why you'e prone to ***** and
puff and snigger (imitation of a donkey's
sneeze, no bother)... i know this isn't
1 billion Mongolians... but maybe this isn't
a time to choke the joke with some
Levis jeans Americana and a dusted-over-twice
cow-dung-covered baby blue eyes farmer?
why are farmers the joke in Europe
and heroes in America? ah... the lasso.
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 10:05 PM UTC
Back then I would wait by phone just in case she'd call.
Shuffling through my old MySpace messages,
I tried to remember the way that I used to think
as I wrote to friends in acronyms and broken words.
Shuffling through my old MySpace messages,
I remembered my sweaty palms clicking “Send”
as I wrote to friends in acronyms and broken words
begging them to understand that I couldn't carry on like this.
I remembered my sweaty palms clicking “Send”
They told me to change, while I spent my nights
begging them to understand that I couldn't carry on like this:
A girl who only came back when a clever boy got the best of her.
They told me to change, while I spent my nights
drunk on cheap stolen beer and plans of escaping
a girl who only came back when a clever boy got the best of her.
But I could never say “Not tonight” to her – or to anyone, really.
Drunk on cheap stolen beer and plans of escaping,
I figured I’d run to California, or somewhere farther,
but I could never say “Not tonight” to her – or to anyone, really.
being a heap of ****** flesh on the floor was better than being alone
I figured I’d run to California, or somewhere farther.
I tried to remember the way that I used to think:
Being a heap of ****** flesh on the floor was better than being alone
back then. I would wait up by the phone just in case she'd call.
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 8:01 AM UTC
as I lay down my head
my phone next to me
on the bed
your text
vibrates across the mattress springs
like a technological tinnitus
inside my ear
my consciousness
you want to talk
but not like that
just to make an unarguable point
guilt ridden acronyms
miss-spelt accusations
and inappropriate emojis
convey your emotions
with a twisted sarcastic humour
interlinked with your vent
you know that from the safety of 4G
it aggravates me
I’m bored with it all
too much to even reply
it would make more sense
if you weren’t
abusing me from the spare room
Oct 29, 2021
Oct 29, 2021 at 2:33 PM UTC
love,
its a four lettered word
so carelessly cast about these days
between people who barely understand its proper meaning.
its been shortened down to acronyms that barely holds any of its true power
people then say it and treat it as such a casual word
not understanding what kind of effect it has to
those who truly understand its meaning
Jan 19, 2015
Jan 19, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
what's the equivalent of the English
slang...
and American version?
rhymes and... for the latter:
acronyms.
i hate American acronyms...
GOP... DNC...
government of power?
democratic national curriculum?
what the fuse?!
now... the Americans spewing
acronyms is worse than
English slang -
because there's a definite meaning
behind it...
i remember the time
when you'd pick up a dictionary,
at a time when people would wear
clothes that had the word, duffer,
printed on them...
duffer: a stupid and an inefficient
person...
ha... people used to wear
said clothes back in high-school
on non-uniform day...
mind you...
you can't exactly have a teen
fest fetish movie surrounding
high-school at the movies...
if, you go, to a catholic school...
and there's a uniform code...
everyone's uniform...
in uniform...
no one competes via
clothing, trends, etc.
that's the closest i came to joining
the army... then again...
i might not have went to a catholic
school...
i might have been under
the jurisdiction of Ignatius of Loyola...
cardinal manifesto
of the black pope:
i.e. Stendhal -
my favorite book in my teens:
and one of the few books...
that i read, being inspired
by a movie...
who was it... Rachel (kel kel Ra-ca-ca-kel)
Weisz and Ewan Mcgregor...
i still can't read anything
by J.R.R. Tolkien...
fun fact...
how can you tell the difference
between
a Hibernian and a Hearts
or a Rangers contra Celtic fan,
i.e. a protestant Pict from a catholic
Pict?
Mc'paddy
(that's catholic)
Mac'george
(that's protestant)...
Glasgow blue (protestant)
Glasgow green (catholic)
Edinburgh green (catholic)
Edinburgh claret (protestant);
savvy? good good.
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 11:58 AM UTC
Their bed is a battlefield:
Sheets drenched with sweat,
The smell of renewed hope,
Pulses slowing.
Wide eyes pierce the ceiling,
Bright with what might be -
The thought of something forming
Deep within.
Hope fades at the lamp click.
Blackened silence fills the room
But neither one can sleep,
Not right now.
Lost in Google late at night.
The glow of false hope forums -
Stupid acronyms and
Fake concern.
Piss-soaked sticks in bathroom bins;
The clang of disappointment
Ringing through the house.
This stops soon.
Feb 1, 2017
Feb 1, 2017 at 4:01 PM UTC
Cars fly by on the highway,becoming nothing but blurs.
They race to one place or another,some don't even have anywhere to go.
They just go unknowingly to where they think they will be more happy.
The blurs cease to exist,trading all there freedoms for more fuel to nowhere.
They try to escape there life by going on meaningless trips to nowhere
never going home to where they belong and be truly happy.
People in these cars cease to have any real contact with the world relying on technology
They've traded the joys of hearing laughter and the rhythm of a good conversation for meaningless text and acronyms.
They've ceased to be people at all.
The world became drones only focused on there next trip to nowhere.
No people walk the earth only drones in their cars, becoming blurs...
Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 6:46 PM UTC
We walk
In glow of silver screen,
We talk
In acronyms and SMS slang,
The star
Of an everyday movie
Camera man, script writer, director
Floating in the ether
Weaving our tapestries,
Between radio masts
Life on earth, live on earth
Spaceman, time traveller
On a voyage of discovery,
Walking and talking to ourselves
Without noticing the outside world,
Only interested in our own
Biographies;
Time for another selfie…………….
Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 5:57 AM UTC