"crt" poems
The sun it rose in monochrome it slowley dipped to grey
The TVs going digital and all of us will pay
Its not the way the BBC was set to run it seems
But now the bloke who holds the reigns has come from ITV
So what of all the lower class the plebs with CRT
They never asked for digital or freeview if you please
But now in Tonys golden age I sit in dark despair
The poor old sods who put him there for them he never cared
He's taken every penny the pensioners ever got
And to thank them for their every vote hes turned their tellys OFF!
Bye Bye Tony and mind the door doesnt hit you on the **** on the way out.
Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 8:25 PM UTC
I know this like the Black of my Hands
because to ignorance, truth is profound
but to Experience, Truth is an *** Round
found in Leadbelly trying to run down
Freedom Ring crt. tied to a pair a shoot
or hanging
on the last rung
of this corporate splatter
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 9:30 AM UTC
A chalky, sepia-washed room seen through an ailing CRT. Vantablack lines sprawl across my gnarled face in patterns, playing games with the sun that blares on through the rangy blinds.
Digital clock: 2:43
A cardinal red cigarette pack in my right hand, a turkey baster in the other, submerged deep within the sheet's motherly void. The simmering glow of the hallway dances like a pendulum; a vicious debutante, waiting to coerce me into life. I am enveloped by some capricious rhythm that has no origin, and no destination.
I'm coming to uncertain terms with this lucid halcyon.
Ink drips, from the pillow to my shoulder. I am currently a piece of fiction, held within a lissome frame. This is complete autonomy. Nothing is as it really was, only what it should've have been from the very start. A muted slur from beyond the window comes hurtling through my head. It starts to look like a tumor tree, having its branches, limbs, and spine torn to and fro in such a hideous manner. I've let something go to my head. The dream is broken, through no request of my own.
Aug 7, 2019
Aug 7, 2019 at 10:23 PM UTC
At times I dream of a certain image
One that feels like I’ve been there before,
Despite being nothing more than a fabrication, a dream.
I dream of a late Saturday night, echoes of rain surrounding me
The soft glow of a CRT the only light in the room
And me, sitting, staring, watching the beam dance about.
I dream of traveling to a land far from my own
A place void from worry and doubt
A place where I can simply be.
I dream of visiting the train station
Being serenaded by a traveling musician, a lone dog with a guitar.
As he sings his song, I sing along
Knowing every word to the tune.
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 1:59 PM UTC
priest nor sinner
just me alone on this stool,
24 oz of drool left
one pen and a full
notebook.
scribbled full by nicotine
stained fingertips
digging through an ashtray
for one last ****
three days of ***** dishes
awaiting my attention,
(i have more spoons, so)
I peer into this CRT
looking back at me
with only one page
remaining, available, left,
to explain to the world,
how I felt.
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 11:48 PM UTC
Get carried away
Turn against the pillow
Sleeping on the sofa
Pretend you're in bed
Take it back to ten
Where you can pretend
The flashing blue and red
Connected to the police
Is coming from an NES
Coming through a CRT
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 3:02 AM UTC
I took a breath but it didn't sink in
I'm pretty sure I'm alive
but sometimes it doesn't feel like it.
Cause I avoid interaction,
Social gatherings are like hell
going out with friends should be enjoyable but...
I would rather be alone.
and when I say alone its not most peoples alone
I don't want to be only only now or at that moment
I want to be alone forever.
And forever maybe a bit of an exoneration, maybe at one point i'll want human interaction,
But that seems like a slim chance right now.
I would actually rather have people not care cause I know its a lie when I say to myself they don't
It's easier to crt+alt delete your life, when you know people don't care.
Cause if I could do that I wouldn't hid behind this computer that lights up my room at night because I can't sleep,
and some days I go with out any sleep cause for some reason the dark fuels my mistakes.
And you probably haven't read to this part,
and if you have well then great no reward cause I have nothing else to give,
my body is worn and scared from giving my time already
if you want take my heart just make sure I'm not breathing before.
It won't be ****** just a helping hand.
so... I'll take a breath but it won't sink in
I'll force myself to do this thing called life but I won't actually live.
and I'd rather be alone for the rest of it,
so please if you could excuse yourself and don't leave a comment.
Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 10:59 PM UTC
Ever gone back and looked at old video games, old movies
on an old TV and thought
"Wow,
did it always look this bad?"
Colours all a washed out grey
Playing "count the pixels" has never been easier!
And that old-tech-buzz,
so prevalent you'd swear that it's part of the soundtrack.
Life looks a bit like that sometimes
Switch back from your top end
4K HDR 60 frames per second beauty you've gotten used to.
See what vibrancy and detail you can squeeze
out of an old CRT
Hardly impressive.
Life
Does look a lot like that sometimes
All a washed out grey
Especially
When saying goodbye
Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 2:39 AM UTC