Autotune poems on Hello Poetry

Nathan Alexander Aug 2018

I wake up, it’s a beautiful day!
Changing clothes, putting my stuff away,
Nothing to ruin it today,
Hey!
Gonna make the most out of today!
Yeah!

Going to the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and-
(80% of the happiness you feel, comes from genetics.)
...Uh...
(And life is ultimately meaningless.)

Okay, going on the bus!
It’s a little tight, but it’s not that much of a fuss,
No reason to go nuts,
Yeah!
(69,000 bus accidents occurred in Europe, in 2014 alone.)
...What?
(Not to mention that the carbon emission is killing the atmosphere.)
...Jesus...
(Oh, and at least you’re lessening it by using public transit.)

...Well, alright, it’s time enter the school!
Gonna learn, till I pass everything!
My grades are screaming in my face; “it’s all cool!”
(You know what’s not cool?)
Bring it on, tell me anything!
(98% of what you study is a waste.)
...I mean...

...Nevermind that,
I get to hang out with some of my friends!
My friends are the bestest of friends!
Can't think of a better way to spend my time!
(Your brain is flawed, you’re bound to drift, and in any case all your friends will die.)
...Uh... Then...

I can live in the moment, use up every second!
(At any moment, you could get clinical depression.)
You’re wrong, I'll just be happy, no matter what's in store!
(It's quite genetic and we have no cure.)
...Uh, at least...

We are young!
(Not for long.)
Life is great!
(It only goes downhill.)
We gotta make the most of it!
(You’re likely to regret it.)
We are young!
(For now.)
Life is fun!
(For some people.)
We gotta make the most of it!
(Good luck.)

I got a brand new job today!
Doin stuff that'll help the economy!
I'll save money, and buy things at the store-
(Banks can crash and capitalism is flawed.)
...I... uh...

Um... and it's all because of my hard work!
(And the thousands of advantages you were lucky to get at birth.)
I put loads of effort in my resume!
(Good thing you don't have a black person's name.)

I've at least got a nice stable job!
(Until it's outsourced to China or replaced by a bot or robot.)
...Well then I could relax a bit!
(You'll be empty, with nothing to distract from it.)

But man, I'm a passionate teen!
I can be different, and I have career paths to pick from!
I could be a programmer, or a game maker, or even a YouTuber, if I'm lucky!
(Even if you really could be any of those, neither would make you happy, trust me.)

At this age, I’m still able to choose what I pursue!
(That’s a lie, and you're always a slave to people born richer than you.)
Then ***** it, I'll keep going,
And I'll party on the weekend, and sing!
(You’ll either get laughed at, or receive applaud, thanks to autotune.)

We are young!
(Not for long.)
Life is great!
(It only goes downhill.)
We gotta make the most of it!
(You’re likely to regret it.)
We are young!
(We still die.)
Life is fun!
(Until you’ll die.)
We gotta make the most of it!
(Because you'll die.)

Life is a wonder!
(You'll never know the answer.)
Nature is a miracle!
(Natural disasters.)
It's great to be alive!
(You could wake up with cancer.)
But I'm healthy...
(No matter how healthy, even healthy people get cancer.)

I love this show!
(It's probably the last episode there’ll ever be, or you have to wait weeks or months for the next episode.)
The sun is shining!
(It's going to explode.)
Every species is beautiful, and unique though!
(Children have malaria thanks to mosquitoes.)

I met a cute girl, with a ponytail!
(Statistically speaking, even if you two get into a relationship, it’s going to fail.)
I have a wonderful family, it's like no other!
(Considering your luck, your thinking is not special, and one day you'll bury your mother.)
No matter what happens, I can find a home!
(We will all die alone.)

saige Mar 2018

Dog Star Quality

Lyrics in her face
blaze, from screen to mouth
bony thumb, scrolling
mumbling into an ancient microphone
hanging from the rope swing
in her garage.

Voice shakes here, shivers there
but ****
she is soulful.

Authentic, exquisite
in holey socks and wet hair
and goosebumped arms
getting swallowed by a hoodie.

*******, she has it all
and gives it nothing.

Some of us are simply stunning
no spray tans or updos
no sequined skirts or stiletto shoes
no autotune or makeup kits
no words-

only nothing
could improve her.

Nothing could improve her.

some soul i used to know

sadgirl Feb 2018

boujee

o, darling
daylight has never been your most flattering
light

and how could it be?
you never sleep,
because life is but a dream

like that old
children's song
goes

dear god of boujee
women, the ones with
bloodstained louboutins

let me autotune myself to sound inhuman,
say my prayers to
you

in the dying light
of the atl
freeways

my only hymn i have to
offer is that of
migos

and instead of bread and wine
i have lean and
xanax

o, darling
our eyes will never
age

and new money, who dis?
will forever be the closest thing
we have to a mantra

Gang gang.

#boujee #badandboujee #money #rich #lean #xanax #drugs #prayer #migos

Alicia Mar 2021

Weekend's perfection

love is

our unkept bed on a Sunday morning
clothes thrown on the floor
candles burned down to no wicks

sleeping off last nights tangled limbs
on the grey leather couch
infinity in crystal blue eyes

palm to palm, fingers entwined our lifelines cross
counterbalancing personalities complete the circle
protective of what is within

so familiar our anatomical embrace
we breathe shared air
beats in autotune, universe intact

#love #embrace #soulmates #sundays

Noah Sep 2019

AutoTune

" Well, You talk like yourself but i hear someone else.
Yea you look like yourself but your somebody else."

YOUR MAKING ME NERVOUS

credit to flora cash

Arcassin B Oct 2014

"Talk So Sweetly"

By Arcassinburnham

Can't love you in the dark,
Looking for you is subsequently inducing,
Like singing with autotune,
In a pale moon light full of beer cans,
Where is my purpose,
To have a bad life in property of the man up stairs,
Rosey red cheeks,
When I make you shy to be speechless,
But open your mouth when Im inside of you,
Lame adults ed school,
Not fulfilling my full potential,
Texting you in class was like a dream,
Meals not made,
Gotta make it,
Always hated,
That when I came home,
Worthless as I was when I was born,
Fatherless child but made dream warriors.
Taking sweetly,
Butterflies,
Pigtails,
And bright dawns,
I need more clarity in what I'm doing,
Whisper in your ears,
Bath running full of bubbles coming out of the sides,
I need to,
Talk,
To you,
I...

Sensual side

Nina Apr 2015

dating *****

"Nina, why do you always date *****?" questions my best friend in the way that implies an answer is not needed nor wanted in the warm light of his front porch in the car that belongs to me but he offers to drive when my stomach is sick and a new ****-up is laid like fresh paint on my mind.
The question itself spins like a coin in my head that will never lay flat, like a bad autotune job, like a Rube Goldberg that will never halt, like it has too much truth to it.
"Why do you always date *****?"
Because they don't seem like ***** when our eyes meet and the ***** of their smile makes my nose crinkle with an incessant desire to smell the warm scent of their chest as my head lays pillowed on it in the early morning calm before the loud realization of what events transpired the night before, before flashbacks of mixed bodies and sweaty whispers, before he decides he's seen enough of me, devoured his piece of meat, he's not hungry anymore.
When will I be his favorite food? The one he can have for breakfast lunch and dinner and still crave, the one he will always ask for seconds of, the one who is home to him. Every time I meet someone I call all of my friends and swear he's the ever so infamous "one," and every time I fall for the ******* lie that he "will not break me," YOU WILL NOT BREAK ME?! Then why am I shattered, laying in pieces on the cold tile floor, my mind a messy oozing disaster? But maybe my heart has always been just a taped up broken mess since Paula left, maybe when Aaron and Spain and Mitchell came along it was all too easy for them to pull at the poorly tied knotted strings I had sewn into my heart, maybe my soul was just a little too welcoming, maybe my mouth was a little too eager to feel theirs against it. But I can swear that when you "made love to me" it was really just *******, or else why would you take the one piece of me left only to complain after that I hadn't shaved. Well I've shaved every day since, cut bleeding patterns into my mortified anxiety, ripped tears from my eyes before I dare let them fall, and watched you kiss her over and over again. But if you asked me back I'd still say yes, rip the shredded heart from the box I've tended to keep it in and place it back in your hands to wear like a new notch in your belt, a new trophy for your collection.
"Why do you always date *****?"
Because some wretched inner part of my being believes I deserve it.

proud of the last line

#hurt #**** #slam #slampoetry #slampoem

NeroameeAlucard Jan 2015

Strange Isn't It?

I don't like Jordan's, I like Chuck Taylor's
I don't want a Maybach, I really want an impala throwback or a mustang modern day
I don't speak in slang I don't have badly done dreadlocks
I don't sing in autotune and I don't sag my pants

I play guitar, and I listen to Rock music
I prefer classic hip-hop over trap, which is an anomaly in and of itself
I'll take Charles Wright's "Express Yourself" to azalea banks 212
I love electronic music, Daft Punk, Deadmau5, Kraftwerk, Glitch mob and I live under the sun not the moon

All of these things differ me from others, hopefully I don't come across stale,
but out of all the things I do and like, I'm an 18 year old black male...

Strange Isn't it?

Isn't it though?

#life #thoughts #people #race #humans

Amber S Feb 2012

high

your love is my drug.**

oh, hasn't that been done?
darling, i have no floors of glitter
or ear piercing autotune.

just my words.

but your intoxication is clearly visible.
the taste of your tongue
is a buzz that puts alcohol to shame.
your teeth sinking into my body
not all the joints in the world could compare.

your breath into my lips is my drug
your sweat will forever be my drink of choice

withdrawal symptoms
when you are not around.
nights full of holding myself,
hoping it has a piece, somewhere of you.
shivers and sweats, with nothing but
your hallucination to comfort me.

high. you make me so high.
high enough to kiss the stars and say hello
to the moon.
high enough to make me forget every
sliver of worry,
fragment of doubt.

high on your lips. your voice. your bites. your licks. your nibbles.
your touch.
high on your love.
high.
high.
high on you.

sadgirl May 2018

lil pump

i have done it again
once a day,
lean

a sort of walking miracle, my skin,
look at my wrist, about ten
my *******

a paperweight
my body clothed in supreme
and bape

peel off the layers of autotune
do i terrify?
or do the rooftops i jump from come back to haunt me?

the wide nose, the pink and blonde
the dilated eyes
all vanish within a recording session

soon, soon the skin
the thots, the tricks
they will be at home on me

and i, a frowning man
only sixteen
and like the cat, i have nine times to live

this is my last leg,
what trash
what lies we tell

with a million filaments of light
the xanax-crushing crowd
stops for one ******* second

and looks down at the stage
the beat starts, my mouth is powder dry
ladies and gentleman

these are my tattoos,
my war paint,
i may be skin and bones

nevertheless, i am far from who i once was
the first time i drank lean, i was ten
my brother dared me

the second time i meant it,
some way to escape
and become liquid
over beats

when i drank too much, they had to call and call
and wash the ***** off me like bloodthirsty leeches
singing/rapping/living

is an art
and like everything else, i do it way too well
i do it so it feels like midnight

i do it so it feels so real
i guess you could say i’m dope
it’s easy enough to loose hope

it’s easy enough to go crazy waiting for fame
but fame comes, and it plays games
come back with me,

to the same place, the same face,
the same dreaming eyes of a high woman
an amused shout,

get out of here, eskeetit
but there is always a change
for the touching of my hair, there is a change

inside, for the eying of my new gucci sneakers
there is a change inside, that rarely goes outside
and there is a change, a really big change

for any pill or drink
or drug
or a strip of fur or silk that i wear with pride

so, so my child, unborn within a groupie
so, my enemy behind a mic or a show curtain
i am your high

i am everything you ever wanted
the pure silver bullet
that melts with no bang or pop

i turn and burn
do not forget, mama’s still concerned
and and

you push and pull
xannies and perkies, there nothing there
a red stripe

across a wrist with
a broken whiskey bottle.
my mother, my father

remember?
remember?

out of the bitter smoke
i rise with rainbow hair
and i devour pills like air

A riff on Sylvia Plath's poem, Lady Lazarus.

#rap #rapper #love #hate #child #grow #up #nostalgic #ladylazarus #plath

Joshua Buskirk Jul 2021

Vacation Autotune

Some songs
I only know
Through the same
twenty-eight-second pockets
Over carefully curated clips
Of impossibly perfect vacation videos
Knowing their fiction
Their hooks hook me
When thinking about?
Taking a trip to a waterfall
Impossibly immaculate
I’ll never take videos of the trip
my pop music palette
not refined enough
To share them.

Ivan Brooks Sr Mar 2018

Back In The Day

I vividly remember back in the day
Before smart gadgets, when I was young.
Every night we waited in the moonlight to play
Life was pure like the playground song.

That was when the world was very young
and friendship was real and not digital.
When autotune wasn't part of a good song
and all photos were normal and typical.

That was when people followed you for real
not on Twitter and Instagram and snapchat.
That was when buttocks and ******* were still real
and real-life friends met for coffee and a real chat.

I clearly remember the big old telephones
When people didn't see the faces of people,
they talked to like we now do on the smartphones.
I missed the old days when sleep wasn't a struggle.

IB-Poetry©️
3/25/2018

Proof that I am old

#poetry #oldschool #yesterday

collin May 2015

lima charlie

everything that comes out your mouth
comes in with autotune and reverb
repeat transmission. again.
i want to hear and believe
it's just hard to conceive
that someone like you could love someone like me

Adrianna Aarons Jan 2017

Untitled

"Adrianna, why do you always date *****?" questions my best friend in the way that implies an answer is not needed nor wanted in the warm light of his front porch in the car that belongs to me but he offers to drive when my stomach is sick and a new ****-up is laid like fresh paint on my mind.
The question itself spins like a coin in my head that will never lay flat, like a bad autotune job, like a Rube Goldberg that will never halt, like it has too much truth to it.
"Why do you always date *****?"
Because they don't seem like ***** when our eyes meet and the ***** of their smile makes my nose crinkle with an incessant desire to smell the warm scent of their chest as my head lays pillowed on it in the early morning calm before the loud realization of what events transpired the night before, before flashbacks of mixed bodies and sweaty whispers, before he decides he's seen enough of me, devoured his piece of meat, he's not hungry anymore.
When will I be his favorite food? The one he can have for breakfast lunch and dinner and still crave, the one he will always ask for seconds of, the one who is home to him. Every time I meet someone I call all of my friends and swear he's the ever so infamous "one," and every time I fall for the ******* lie that he "will not break me," YOU WILL NOT BREAK ME?! Then why am I shattered, laying in pieces on the cold tile floor, my mind a messy oozing disaster? But maybe my heart has always been just a taped up broken mess since Paula left, maybe when Aaron and Spain and Mitchell came along it was all too easy for them to pull at the poorly tied knotted strings I had sewn into my heart, maybe my soul was just a little too welcoming, maybe my mouth was a little too eager to feel theirs against it. But I can swear that when you "made love to me" it was really just *******, or else why would you take the one piece of me left only to complain after that I hadn't shaved. Well I've shaved every day since, cut bleeding patterns into my mortified anxiety, ripped tears from my eyes before I dare let them fall, and watched you kiss her over and over again. But if you asked me back I'd still say yes, rip the shredded heart from the box I've tended to keep it in and place it back in your hands to wear like a new notch in your belt, a new trophy for your collection.
"Why do you always date *****?"
Because some wretched inner part of my being believes I deserve it.

— The End —