"autocorrect" poems
Hello and welcome to the internet,
Where everyone is brave enough
To say what a face wouldn't,
Because looking into tears,
Makes it much harder to hate,
But a glaring screen and autocorrect,
Gives you cowardice coated in bravery.
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC
the angel amongst us
~for Alexander, master splasher~
*flexibility is important when poetry writing in a warm tub and a long day ahead is scheduled; so willingly accept the autocorrect
for I am both an experienced poet and bath soaker and
believer in wondrous mystery and unexpected fumbles
that lead to to miracle touchdowns
~•~
the two mathematicians examine the angle, measure the degree of difference at intersection and bless it with an identity,
calling it by its name,
perhaps obtuse, perhaps right, perhaps both
two sets of eyes examine the angle,
study its ****** expression
the old man says:
see the angle on the clock formed by the big handle on the twelve and the little hand on the eight?
this is angle of eight o’clock:
time to stop the splashing and start the get-readying
for we have miles to go before the ocean can say hello!
little angel says angle no go
and slashes the water with both
hands to establish the firmness of his views
and change Einstein’s time from present to future
the angle depends on the perspective of the viewer
the old poet comprehends leaving a warm tub is a regretful thing
but he measures the degree of difference at this
intersection
of time and bath and blesses it with an identity
“time to go”
the angle of my angel is now 2 pointed arms, pointed straight up,
at the twelve o'clock,
as he stands up in fevered protest,
my arms sweep his little legs to
a point at eight o’clock,
angel, commenting on his swift flight
disputes the grandfathers physics
"no go now,
now go later^"
though the angle is unchanged
the perspective of time and space
(and traffic),
yet differs
one sees an angle,
the angel sees time
eternally folding in on itself*
that is the angle amongst us
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 8:58 AM UTC
I'm many coloured
and a perfect transcriber
and transmitter.
I only listen,
And do not interject.
Whatever you say or write,
I record faithfully.
At times, you may think
I read your mind
While it's in the clouds,
That's autocorrect,
But you push send.
I'm the perfect ear,
The ideal partner.
I'll never willingly repeat
Your heard and spoken secrets.
You're the human.
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 2:58 PM UTC
Human Observations (the woman pees)
if you walk the world with pen and paper
or eclectic electronic devices,
sure as the sunrise espied,
the pen will quick leak
when wearing white
and so will too the
righteous words
righteously,
thereafter
when you can't sleep and you must
slam your sweaty fist into pillow
know that the pillow is
silent thinking, dude,
you really ain't
got a hope, a
prayer
fallen asleep in the soaking tub
a thousand and one times,
ain't never drowned like
the warning ones say I
will do but only when
restless in my rustling
no-safety night sleep
in my lumpy bed,
where I’ve already
dream-drowned
a million
times
the woman pees, safe and secure,
comforted by the knowledge
that we have bathrooms
separate, her toilet,
man *** free, tho
we just finished
making sweaty,
fluid swapping
***
she does not, won't put on makeup
in her pj's to take out the garbage,
that is why she keeps loverman,
so handy, nearby, shamelessly
firm, unwavering, good god,
great for one "disposable"
use per night
when you tell your child that you love them,
and they do not reply at all, it isn't that they
don't love ya back, 'tis only that they haven't
learned to love themselves
something well that just
cannot be
taught.
the more trinkets I buy her,
more she screams stop,
but never not once
has she said, here,
take it
back
if you don't believe in Faeries and Elusives,
try, for then you have a middling chance
of getting the missing, disappearing
whole sock hiding
in her ******
back, intact
If must look up the time where your
love is currently hiding/residing,
then the probability is more than
1.000, that you no longer love
her enough, or
she, you,
not at
all
you know it is time to shut down,
hang up the pen and close the
iPad cover, surrender,
give up the poetry gig
4 real when you start
to prefer an
autocorrect
suggestion
~
More to follow.
someday.
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 7:19 PM UTC
rite like Dylan/past the point of no return
all my life wanted to rite just once like Dylan.
but too set in the errors of my way to complement/compliment a master of the phrase, the original tunes I hum’em all
plagued and plagiarized and yet pleasing
head the Head over to the refrigerator, arrive in one piece,
but totally not remembering why I came this way,
cause i am way way past the point of no return
Oh yeah oh yeah cool brother Corona light to succor the soul,
while roasting body slow in a lavender bubble bath and it ain’t
even noon and no no room for company, this solo wonder-boy
tripping alone
pay my bills in the bath, winnow the widow-maker reading list,
good ****** on a free sundaey and there ain’t no football to watch and autocorrect authority don’t like ****** it only godded one D, as if He needs two D’s to mess us up better
the Corona doing magic trick disappearing so fast and here i am
certified past the point of return and there ain’t no more beer
in the general vicinity
so now the time to summarize my little darlings;
don’t break beer bottles in the bathroom,
don’t pay your bills in the bathtub when u gots 53.42 in cking,
don’t take your iPhone unsheathed into the same vicinity
all you will be left with is maxed out cc’s,
messes you want
not to tangle with,
brain leavings of a bad poem half write,
it isn’t even bad dylan mimicry
but confirmation you passed the point of no return
and u happy hum
don’t think twice it’s alright
it is all on my cover photo
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 12:11 PM UTC
This is a mobile poem,
Written from my mobile phone.
Derived from a mobile song.
Developed near a mobile home.
Radio blasts from its mobile ring
Melodies radiate; singers sing
rhyming can be a mobile fling,
So long as you're willing to fight through this autocorrect thing.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 1:57 PM UTC
"Not too short on the sides,
not too long on the top."
I've prepared my little speech,
dreading the inevitable small talk
as the hairdresser's fingers fly
across the jungle of my dome,
her scissors like mini machetes
cutting down the foliage to see
what is hiding in plain sight.
I love the Bob Marley shirt I'm
wearing, so it's bittersweet it'll
immediately be taken off when I
get up from the chair. "One love,
one heart, give thanks and praise
to The Lord," laughing as I type this,
autocorrect shows Siri's faith in
human invented religion and God.
Hair litters the floor, and I know my
turn is next. The beginning of the end
starts
now.
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC
when the oh, SO smart phone
writes,
puppyhead barks,
wood! wood!
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 6:30 AM UTC
You are my iPad
I turn you on
With the flip of your cover
You hang on every
Word I type
You see me clearly
With your HD eye
When I'm wrong
You autocorrect me
But I appreciate it
You have many
Advanced functions
I surf your capabilities
With a flick of my finger
Like come hither
You are
Entertainment
And knowledge
You help me smile
And laugh
When I need it most
You are my iPad
An escape from the world
That's not virtual
If your battery fades
I will recharge you
You are my iPad
Now, I don't
Remember
How I lived
Without you
Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
It's not all that hard, it's so easy to learn,
Each and every one of these simple rules.
You see, I'm not even American,
But not even us Mexicans are such fools.
I know this language like I know myself,
I never laid hand on the shelf,
Where everyone placed their literature books,
Just to drop it for looks.
It's easy to remember,
Why can't you see,
English is so easy,
Or is it just me?
No.
That wouldn't make sense.
Spanish was my first language.
Yet I've come to know English better than my native tongue.
You're not North American, British, or Australian?
Alright whatever, I'll let it slide.
But really, born and raised here?
Come on, it's a free ride.
Deosnt it btoher you taht erevy wrod is speled rong?
Notice can't that you is order your wrong?
Proud to be an American, it isn't really saying much.
Cuz it lik jus syin I cn bearle evn speek such.
Yes, I think you're stupid, every time you spell wrong,
Because it's so easy to fix even a word that is long.
It makes me wonder wether your autocorrect's off?
Because that simple thing, knows each time that you're off.
Is it really so hard to put in that one vowel,
Or put in the consonant so your spelling's not foul.
Or correct the double-negative, you know it's not true,
It's easy to do, just proofread right through.
We all have the ability needed learn,
Yet it seems your ability's been placed in an urn.
You've got a big brain, so why don't you use it?
Trust me, I know, you shouldn't abuse it.
If you have pride in nothing else,
That's fine,
But it's good to have pride in the fact that you know,
YOUR LANGUAGE.
Be proud that you can communicate well,
Be proud that even the nerdiest of nerds can't use words you won't understand,
Be proud that you know how to use correct punctuation,
Be proud to know where "ph", "gh", "ou", "eau" and the silent "t" are used,
Be proud to know which words comes first, and which one comes last,
Be proud to know English, you can learn it all fast,
Be proud to know the art of words,
The art so many ancient cultures knew,
The ancient Japanese, and Romans, and even the French,
Yet America has forgotten how to use words.
Be proud to be a leader of the generation in the USA,
The generation that brings back knowing our own tongue,
So that foreigners who come don't know us better than us.
Be proud to know the beauty of language.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
The human vocabulary is vast and complicated,
there are endless possibilities,
but there's a glitch in my system,
for no matter what sentence
is spoken to me
the AutoCorrect of my mind
only lets me hear
that I am not wanted.
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 7:01 PM UTC
Autopoiesis.
Autocorrect: Autopsies?
Such a pessimist.
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 2:06 AM UTC
Type it out you ******* this could be
The last one
For a little while.
I made a promise with myself
Or whoever that shady character is,
Outside
On the deck with me
The one who
Makes fun of me
Delete words as I puke this
Poem?
Out.
Its best that me and this keyboard become friends
My anger towards, understand and accepting
What is proper type,
Or am I the proper type
Of guy who wants Vegas
And EDM
And MDMA
in My life
So writing
Or typing
Whatever
Which one
Of me
Wants to deem it
for only when I dream
It, cheap rhyme,
I want my style to be my own
And I want my intoxicated
Meaningful
Ramblings to be a
Part of it
A part of the
Bigger picture.
I will only type **** like this when i am not sober.
Sober sure is funny
And not just a funny word
Smiley face emoticon
Emoticon is not
a typo
....
Dear lord, oh god oh mighty,
Blasphemy that I would
Even start
Talkin' about
galaxies and universes
outside of this one
Puke some more
As I delete and pull
Words
From
One
Line
To the
Next
Without
Giving a
****
That my
Microsoft word
Capitalizes
Every text
My little brother text (texted?)
Me tonight and said
"Get more ink
For the typewriter"
.
Aside for my desire to ramble on about
Getting more ink
The 16 year ol’ champ
Is right
My biggest dreams at this moment
Are childlike
If that’s a good thing…
Then my 6 year game plan
From this day is in jeopardy.
Autocorrect me more
Higher intelligence
And answer me question’s
The one’s that Christan’s
Don’t need answerin’
Have you ever been introduced to a
16 year old ****
A 16 year ol’ ****
Honestly, I had my eyes locked
On – one
Tonight
And I don’t know so much if
I was looking
But maybe I was recognizing
Recognizing a certain
Level of respect that I had
For her
That she didn’t have for herself
She ****** off my best friends brother to get her backpack back tonight
In front of car headlights
And I have always wanted to type
Backpack back
My entire life.
Put your backpack on buddy,
And walk away from this
Poem?
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 5:33 AM UTC
Human Observations (the woman pees)
if you walk the world
with pen and paper,
sure as the sunrise,
the pen will leak,
when wearing
white and so
will the
words,
right
after.
when you can't sleep,and you
slam your fist into the
pillow, know that the
pillow is silent
thinking, sir,
now, you
really ain't
got a
prayer.
fallen asleep in the soaking tub
a thousand and one times,
ain't never drowned like
the warning ones say
I will do, but
really, in my
night sleep
in the
safety
of bed,
I have
drowned
a million
times.
the woman pees, safe and secure,
comforted by the knowledge
that we have bathrooms
separate, her toilet,
man *** free, tho
we just finished
making sweaty,
fluid swapping
***
she does not, won't put on makeup
to take out the garbage,
that is why she keeps
me around, her love,
firm, unwavering
once a night.
when you tell your child
that you love them, and
they do not reply,
it is not that they
don't love you back,
it is that they have
yet to learn how to
love themselves,
something
that can't
be taught.
the more trinkets I buy her,
more she screams stop,
but never not once
has she said,
here, take it
back.
if you don't believe in Faeries,
try, for then you have a
chance of getting the
missing sock,
back, intact.
If must look up the time where
you love is currently residing
then the probability is more,
> than 1.000, that you no
longer love them enuf.
you know it is time to
hang up the pen put
down the iPad, give up
on this poetry gig
when you really prefer
the autocorrect
suggestion.
More to follow.
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 6:42 AM UTC
He used it this morning.
Kevin Robinson,
Who has thick curly hair
And
Thinks
He
Knows
Everything.
And I told him,
"What kind of a word
Is
Irradiate?
It isn't a word."
And he told me
In his
Know
It
All
Way
"YES, it IS."
And he spelled it for me.
Because he's into spelling.
I
R
R
A
D
I
A
T
E
So I huffed
And left
Kevin Robinson.
But Randy Weidman
Whose last name
Has a whole different meaning
Had his fancy
New
iPhone 5
And during
First period
Which happens to be
Geometry Honors
He took out
Sira
Or
Whatever
Her
Name
Is
And he asked her.
Sira did not understand.
Sira is not so smart.
But autocorrect is.
And it turns out that
Irradiate
Is
A
Word.
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
it's kinda funny that every time someone asks me how he died
i know i have to tell them he was a ****** addict with a bad batch of ******
then autocorrect takes over -
and it's "he was a heroine addict with a bad ***** of a heroine"
one rehab after another - he tried to get sober -
but always ran back to drugs
one relationship after another - he looked for someone to save him -
but always ran back to me
maybe i'll stop trying to fix my auto-correct
****** heroine - what's the difference?
we both killed him in the end
Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 12:13 PM UTC
*I'll swath my cliches
in over verbose decadence
and ask forgiveness in the morning.*
Edging
toeing
the fine line in between
Fighting to live
- or -
living to fight
in champagne surged soirees
of surreptitious allergens
Some ******* ballad
donning metalcore methods
aggressive to a fault
that is to say, earth-shattering
unyielding, unwavering, unapproachable
un-fucking-believable
You, me,
they, we,
truncated
but never forgotten
Had
but never spent
Forgotten
but never lost
Your name is in my autocorrect
with siren songs and call signs
from generational grievances,
Chivalrous misandry,
chorus discord
callous
Chandeliers swing
low like chariots.
Samson told us to keep dancing.
We were only listening,
abreast one another,
clad only in our genres.
We were so much more
until we were
lost,
but never mattered.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
To the boys that I have poured my heart and soul out to over a text
You were both incredible people
Both, as in only two of you
I had liked, or loved, you both in way that I couldn't care for anyone else
That's one of the only similarities you share
To the boys that I have poured my heart and soul out to over a text
I hope you know it killed me when you didn't reply
I still believe I am the problem here
Why else would you cast me aside?
I am used to sending heartfelt text messages
Or even risky ones at that
But usually people reply
Whether it be with something beautiful
Or a basic "okay"
To the boys that I have poured my heart and soul out to over a text
I apologized to the both of you
That's the third thing you share
I apologized to one of you for messing everything up
And I apologized to the other because I knew I would destroy everything one day
Well, I didn't know, but I had a hunch
Because I ruin everything
But that would have only applied if you had let me in
But just like Heaven's gates,
You closed me off and put me in Hell.
Hell is similar to jail except you're fed in jail
Whereas Hell takes your appetite
Jail also gives you the bail option
Hell, unfortunately, does not.
To the boys that I have poured my heart and soul out to over a text
I've heard that babies often **** the energy out of their parents
and use it for their own personal gain
I hope you destroying my happiness was like that
I hope you grew a sense of happiness by destroying mine
By not replying
By not showing emotion
By not giving ten seconds of your time to type out a sloppy response so I could get closure
To the boys that I have poured my heart and soul out to over a text
I'm sorry. It wasn't me. A friend stole my phone and sent that.
Wow, gee. Isn't autocorrect silly?
I didn't send that message! Here, check my phone!
You're accusing me of deleting that text? What kind of monster do you believe me to be?
To the boys that I have poured my heart and soul out to over a text
I regret it and I'm sorry.
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 11:35 PM UTC
skyward certified ledgers keep track of all the godly, gritty details we can’t bring ourselves to believe. just throw some words together and make it count. the dust between our fingernails flavors the few crumbs we have left with the taste of a world that turned it’s back on us. honestly, the real apocalypse is just simply going through the motions. only we’re not as important as i’m making us out to be. sometimes (mostly on nights where the cold infiltrates your bones like an incurable disease and the rain is hitting the roof so hard you think that maybe this time it all will just finally come crashing down) it feels like we were designed for eachother. excuse the sentiment, i know it’s not me. i still picture you in the under-renovation-library thumbing through indexes for facts or truths, or maybe even just a semblance of hope. but that’s just the kind of punch drunk love ******** that keeps me ticking. my smiles come and go with the knowledge that you collect expired medicine and listen to mp3s of seismic waves from beneath the earth’s surface. you’re that special kind of weird that only makes sense in the way you can’t even play a game of monopoly without falling apart. a true rivalry is the greatest form of love. i’m stuck somewhere in between holding on to a grudge. you’re at my throat, i’m in your head. i swear i’m trying to regulate my sleeping patterns again. but the autocorrect on tumblr tried to change “mp3s” to “mumps” so where does your allegiance really stand? melatonin nod. glasses smudged. overedited and overanalyzed. linking words is the slurred speech of typing. or something like that.
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 12:55 PM UTC
poverty has been a persistent problem all throughout the world for more than one reason. it can be passed down, but in some instances it can be brought upon somebody because of a loss of a job or a mental illness. i almost got emotional when i was listening to/watching the presentation, as i could never imagine living that way. we take so much for granted. knowing we can type this blog post from the comfort of our home on our macbooks or hp laptops is so overlooked because we've been graced with this technology since the beginning of our time. we wouldn't be writing this blog post on our macbooks if we weren't in school, which to us is a necessity. i just spelled necessity wrong, but my imac autocorrected it for me. people living below the poverty line don't have autocorrect to tell them when they've messed something up. they can't go to school to learn how to spell necessity, because they can't afford it. i just drove my bmw to dunkin' donuts to grab some free coffee with an app on my iphone 6 and eat some $1.69 hash browns that my mom gave me some spare change for. if you're below the poverty line, none of that would be in your agenda. an extra 5 dollar bill wouldn't just be laying around to go waste on something you honestly don't need. it could be going towards the food you'll be eating for the next week or a new shirt because you outgrew the single one that you owned previously. i know personally, i get angry when i don't have enough gas in my car to get me somewhere that i honestly don't have to go to, or when i spend the last few dollars of my paycheck on an overpriced drink at Starbucks. i will be the first to admit that i am absolutely, completely, 100% spoiled rotten but i am more than lucky to be able to get an education, have a job that i love and look forward to going to, and have a family that would give me the world if they could. when you have family, you will always make it through. none of us have any idea how good we have it, and i think it's about time we realize how lucky we are to live in the country we do.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 8:10 AM UTC
Autocorrect, why! why!!
Why would you do this to him?
A female employee
needed to take
some permission
from her manager
She walked to his office
But his door was locked
Because he was on the phone
He saw her standing there
So, he decided to send a text...
"Pls, just one sec"
But autocorrect intervened
"Pls, just one ***
How do you explain that
Autocorrect, why! Hahahaha
Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 8:42 AM UTC
The screen broke
Long before
I did, 'fore
I did.
And the keyboard
Works no more.
A closed door
To my will.
Will I ever decide if
I'll become defined by the silence?
You know me more for my quiet
Than the things that I said!
Autotranslate my words,
Autocorrect me me
Until you see
Only what you like.
I have been silenced,
But that's alright, alright?
Put me on silent
Throughout the night.
My software
Is replaced
And defaced
Again.
How user friendly
Of me to
Value your input
Above all else.
I cannot think for myself!
So I rely on your instructions,
Shelved, waiting to be instructioned.
Wipe me clean then code me.
I'll output what you want,
Whatever you need.
Are you happy
With what's on your screen?
I guess I'm man-made,
Just a man made machine, how clean!
A mere man made
Into a man-made machine.
Apr 3, 2023
Apr 3, 2023 at 11:02 AM UTC
I don't want to talk to you
Just please go away
Leave me alone
I have nothing else to say
As I typed
I'm done were threw
I no longer want to be with you
But somehow on the screen it says
No please stay
Your all I have
And all I need
But in my heart I feel
We're done
I'm drained an have nothing more
Like the blood has been ****** out of me
And as I type these words
Somehow they change
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 8:43 PM UTC
the shakes own my body they make it harder to type so i peck at my keyboard like a ******** animal and i keep smashing the power button every time i hit the backspace and i'm afraid the whole godforsaken thing will turn off. macs arent bad though. i might be okay.
wow this whole ******* thing just went to **** can i even say that? i'll be ******* honest with you (aside from the avant-garde scene and the nihilistic WOKE poetry ensemble) i really don't know if i can say that or not? i mean when was PC invented? like 2008? **** you. that was ten years ago gimme a break.
jesus man the shakes are horrible tonight. they're so bad im really just relying on autocorrect to do everything for me but sometimes it misses and so do i. i could use diction on the mac but then they would have my voice and once apple took o ver the world id just become one of their drones or something.
i know why too. maybe the "substances" im constantly ingesting. (oooh "substances" s cary word ayh right. you're an idiot.)
or maybe its the lack of creativity and originality in everything i see and hear and do? maybe not.
(taking a break to ________________________________________).
all the bugs and trees are talking to me and you know what in not eve n gonna bother with typing at this point so if are still here then good for you,
.... six, no wait, make that, 12 bottles of wine. and some whiskey. and some champagne. and a jug of sangria. and...
it's XX:05 as I write this. so if you're awake and reading this then either you're a night-owl or you live somewhere thats not here or there.
i m really truing to see; the shakes off and I think in doing pretty well so i have to just keep it up. right?
im going to shrink down and sleep with my succulent. tomorrow will be where hell is waiting.
************* come in early. 2-3 AM. i always wake up right about then.+
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 1:16 AM UTC