"cyberspace" poems
Head hunched forward,
Brain plugged in,
Cyberspace awaits.
Fingers clicking,
Eyes scanning,
Detached from reality,
My hourly fix.
Oblivious to the world,
Incommunicado
From flesh and bone.
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 12:16 PM UTC
My eyes see nothing but crosshairs
My right hand does nothing but clicks
In this cyberspace with no cares
Finally, happiness sticks
My ears hear nothing but bullets
My left hand does nothing but W,A,S,D
An experience that's as good as it gets
For at least a few hours, I'm free
My feelings are nothing but joy
My thoughts are nothing but video games
A place I can dominate a boy
Without having to say any names
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 6:14 PM UTC
Phone in your home
Phone with you on the road
Three way connections
Incoming calls, not one, but another-aka call waiting
Phones with caller ID
Cordless phones
Hands free phones
Toothy phones sticking out of people's ears
Picture phones...say cheese!
Phone texting instead of talking
Hello? I cannot hear you!
Television and movies in your home
DVD players in your car
Watch those images on your computer
Watch them on your cell phone
Television in the airport
Television in the restaurant
Television at the gas pump
Television in the grocery store line
What's next? Television in the operating room?
Music on your home stereo
Music on your car radio
Store it all on your traveling ipod
Melodious cell phone rings everywhere
Your mp3 player and new computer speakers
Your favorite cable music channels
And plenty of music blasted in the stores
Can't I just have a thought to myself?
Don't forget computers!
Instant messaging
Junk mail in cyberspace
All your shows and movies
always at your instant access
Computer dating
Computer stalkers and hacking
Computer crashes I foresee
because computer bugs and viruses
are trying to invade my soul!
And I feel sick!
I can't get that music out of my head!
I think my ears are ringing!
You've heard of couch potatoes
I think I'm a mouse potato!
How is that for a human spud?
Yes, I admit I'm addicted to my PC!
That I spend more time with technology
than I do with the human race!
I should be burnt out
like old hardware
that is on extreme overload
Not made of wires and steel
but of flesh and blood
I am designed!
But I can't stop!!!
The technology of the future is now here!
I know what George Jetson was saying when he said:
JANE! GET ME OFF THIS CRAZY THING!
Aug 12, 2010
Aug 12, 2010 at 1:46 PM UTC
For seventy or more years TV
And radio ruled the world,
Along with telephones.
But then computers made their mark,
Soon followed by mobiles, Smartphones,
Ipads, Bluetooth, Wifi and who knows what?
In no particular order.
So herds of sheep migrated
Into Cyberspace
Even Myspace!
Then on to Planet Facebook
And Terratwitter.
We talk with people we’ve never met,
And meet folk with whom we’ve never talked.
It keeps us occupied I guess,
And gives relief from stress.
These images that yet fresh images beget,
I’m sure Yeats would agree.
I tolerate these adverts flashing in my face
And soak up knowledge to my solid mental grace.
A world of wonders beckons in
The depths of Cyberspace,
And as a Nerd before they were invented,
I have to say I’ve truly found my place.
Paul Butters
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 9:44 AM UTC
Fluorescent lights absorbing.
My glass cage surrounding.
Smart phones and silenced minds.
To strangers WiFi connection binds.
Likes substitutes compliments and comments conversation.
I turn myself inside out for empty validation.
Cyberspace is like a vacuum, they can't hear you scream.
Forced smiles, you lie and hide behind pixelated screens.
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 12:00 PM UTC
The ghost of you lingers on my mind
The echo of your words tangos across my heart
The feeling of excitement of falling in love in cyberspace
Sexting without remorse or grace
A friendship that hits below the waist
Intelligent conversations that strokes your passion and ignites your fire
I wonder if I'll have anything left to offer
Or would the sight of you take me higher up the ladder of my sinful desire
Your words drive my imagination wild
The touch on my skin, your fingers, lightly caressing my spine
This image in my head is so divine
Seriously hoping that one day, this feeling will be mine.
Pictures and thoughts exchanged on a whim
Something strange grows from within
Intellectually stimulating every part of me
Zeros and ones creates a digital reality
Here I am, imagining being in your arms
The sweetest words you whisper in my ear
My soul yarns for you to be here
Feelings your warm body against mines under the cover
I long for you, my WhatsApp lover
©La Vida Love
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 4:08 PM UTC
Anonymous camaraderie,
New friends pour from cyberspace.
Tweets flutter rampantly,
In this most ambiguous place.
Strangers in passing,
Or is it kismet?
Can’t you tell what I am saying?
Innuendo among keystrokes.
And you thought I was playing.
LOL
My world is all digital,
Evocatively simple,
Demanding your principle,
Ingrained as symbol,
All in code.
1/6/2016
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 11:35 PM UTC
Terrorism has mushroomed
all across the world.
Greenery here is not less,
some terror must be unfurled.
I 've heard that some desi
terror outfit has taken birth.
More shadowy than shadow,
their secrets difficult to unearth.
Help is required from security
agencies of developed land.
There they lock up terrorists for
years without trial on remand.
They've trained dogs to smell
terrorists before they become one.
Our country is developing fast,
soon it will be second to none.
Full use of the cyberspace
this local foxy terror group makes.
In this virtual world whose
identity is real? whose fake?
This tricksy group makes
bombs sophisticated, smart.
It targets selected only,
suddenly before they can depart.
But few unintended ones died in blast,
must be suicide bombers, Indeed!
Terrorists don't understand political
equations, what is the need?
Now our Police catches
terrorists just minutes after the blast.
Their must be some-kind of relief
for citizens shocked, aghast.
My little brother eats my head,
wants to catch a tiger alive.
Jocularly I advised it is animal dangerous,
flesh and bone it can rive.
Instead we can catch a cat and
with continuous torture and grill
we can make it confess to be a tiger,
with third degree surely it will.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
Where are you Paul?
I'm in Cyberspace Mum.
My Pentium processor has broadbanded me
Into this wondrous realm.
A pixel powered virtual landscape
Peopled by avatars
Speaking Internet Slang.
FFS, *** are you talking about?
She asks.
In so many words.
I **** and ROFL at her incredulity.
It’s full of danger, that Internet, says Mum.
That’s true.
It’s full of paedophiles,
Spammers and trolls.
Hackers.
Chat-rooms and forums
Plagued by flame-wars
And spam enough to fill a trillion tins.
Sites full of viruses, Trojans, malware and spyware.
Cyber-bullies and loons abound.
But I just Love it.
A ****** addiction
Needing every fix.
A realm indeed of quantum singularities,
And imploding nebulae.
Paul Butters
(C) PB 3\9\2011 in Yorkshire.
Sep 5, 2011
Sep 5, 2011 at 11:09 AM UTC
I sit alone in my cyberspace home, king of my universe on my internet throne, searching through threads for my cyberspace queen, born in a fantasy, died in a dream, reality on the horizon through a sea of doubt, my cyberspace soul dissipates when my user logs out....
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 12:16 AM UTC
First we build bridges
With Lego bricks
In primary colours
And we move on
To build bridges
From words
With tought
In many languages
Because we have to
And we build bridges
In steel and concrete
Between islands and peninsulas
Between us and them
We prioritise bridges
With our money
On our money
To showcase magnificence
And to replace expired glories
And we cross bridges
In real life and cyberspace
To seek community
In alternate relations
Outside the confines
Of Hans Christian Andersen’s quiet pond.
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 5:34 PM UTC
somewhere out in cyberspace
there's a dark and hidden place
guns and drugs and twisted ways
and a picture of everyone's face
it's all there, and it's all free
there's stories about you and me
go a little deeper and you will see
pages of truth and misery
Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 10:54 AM UTC
Beauty is power
The words we teach our girls
whipped mousse over the freckles along your temples
will get you respect
the zit under your chin
will make you somebody to avoid for a month
The rouge on your cheeks
will make people think they've made you laugh each time you smile
Taken more seriously under anonymity on cyberspace
than to that same person talking to your face
As the standards grow higher
The modified faces and bodies of revlon and maybeline
become tall tales in every sense
The waistline is taken in to better display the shellac of that manicure
why of course!
as more and more voices go hoarse
from taking out meals before
in fear of a body to abhor
when beauty is power
and its concepts changing
is it only to keep us from misbehaving>
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 5:05 AM UTC
My pet cat licks my face repeatedly; it feels a bit strange
to jut my jaw forward for a feline to lick and make my face wet.
but as I sit my eyes shut, it feels unreasonably nice, then, it dawns:
she is clicking her LIKES on my real Facebook page
the way she knows best.
Eureka! this is my tender Archimedes moment !
the naked truth, reveals itself before me like Venus
why the crazy craving, without rhyme or reason
for LIKES in Facebook and cyberspace;
now, I understand so well.
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 1:00 PM UTC
My childhood bicycle
was like a Cadillac
with fins and gizmos
but my brother suggested
we strip it down.
My brother tried
to fix a red corvette
in our family's garage.
The computer has replaced
my childhood bicycle
with its journeys
to cyberspace.
The 5 year old car
of my mother's
which I drive
is orange and waits
in our family's garage.
Nov 8, 2010
Nov 8, 2010 at 9:12 AM UTC
Nasrudin looks in the magic mirror
that allows him to peep into the future
and he sees many marvelous poems in cyberspace.
So Nasrudin calls his Donkey and he says to Donkey:
*See, Donkey – there are so many marvelous poems in cyberspace.
They are beautiful poems.*
But Nasrudin’s Donkey says:
*Hee-haw! - what’s the use? As far as I’m concerned
the only good poem is the one printed on paper.*
And why is that? asks Nasrudin.
*Because, at least when I’m desperately hungry, I can eat paper –
but I can’t eat cyberspace can I?* replies Donkey.
Sep 7, 2011
Sep 7, 2011 at 7:14 AM UTC
Hello
Fellow Poets
I created
Today
In cyberspace
A new collection
A new place
Where we
Can upload
twenty-word
Poems
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 4:09 AM UTC
Binary emotion,
On or off,
Smile or frown,
Love or hate,
One or the other,
No in between,
A painted mask,
To hide my eyes,
That run a system check,
On every face in range,
Good or bad?
Trustworthy or liar?
Decided immediately,
By a single glance,
But only outside cyberspace,
For on connection,
The server responds,
My mask fragments,
I release the inner-workings of my soul,
To so many,
And my fake smile,
Finds new truth,
In words flickering on a screen,
My feelings reconfigure,
And my default gateway,
Becomes conversation,
Not a cold shoulder,
Reboot.
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
Where the hell did you go to
with your fancy two dollar words?
What happened to the flaunt-er,
the flirtatious ******* fornicator?
You tempted me with daunting thoughts.
You teased me with your pornographic pics.
Posted HTML induced *******
leaving my C.P burning for U!
Where the hell did you go to?
you said you were protected.
What happened to your anti-viral software?
I thought it covered all your hardware.
Don't just ignore me, or flood me out...
you have a senseless, sick sense of humor.
You kicked me from your room,
out in the cold of cyberspace.
New address, different text,
but now I've found you!
Hiding behind a new facade.
Yes now I've tracked you down,
don't you know me, can't you see?
It's you that's done this to me.
Barefoot, bowlegged,
and pregnant with you cyber-child!
Aug 13, 2010
Aug 13, 2010 at 5:57 PM UTC
You left me hanging,
I stayed up all night,
wondering what’s in store for our next fortnight
and may be more,
as it wasn’t like this before.
Leaving me on read receipt,
staying online and yet
remaining offline for me,
liking my posts and not
leaving any feedback,
Why is your focus drifting away?
They say internet is amazing,
you tend to believe it gets us closer,
I may like laughing out loud,
I may be rolling on the floor,
but I am old school,
I want to be your real emoji.
Seeing your face,
knowing my place,
moving with you at the same pace,
just meet me anyplace,
But just not only in cyberspace.
Make me your real emoji. :)
Nov 10, 2019
Nov 10, 2019 at 10:23 AM UTC
The bright light of the computer taunts me.
Is this what my writing has been reduced to?
Mindlessly cranking out poetry,
as words flow from my fingers onto the screen.
The perfect black lines dance together,
beckoning me forward towards this no man's land
of modern day literature.
The only thing that sets my writing apart
is a copyright sign, my name following.
My nervous scrawl can't be transcribed into cyberspace.
Jul 21, 2011
Jul 21, 2011 at 9:20 PM UTC
Isn't it funny the times that we share
Whether out in the world or from a favorite chair
No matter if we're talking face to face
Or with computer in lap chatting in cyberspace
Friendships become families that we choose ourselves
Often better and deeper than those in our house
They love and console our every pain
Accept us regardless of age, gender or name
Don't let a day pass
you don't tell them it's true
That they make your life special
And that I love you
by Lj Mark
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 10:13 PM UTC
We were clean. Pure.
Trekking from pine needles to sand
time slipping away from
the mountainous routine of
laughter and tears smeared across cyberspace
when I was younger
my Mother told me
that when the people we love die
you can still see them
the brightest stars breaking through the night sky
we were wandering away from smirking academia
clawing our education from
the comedies and tragedies of early mornings
calm like the kiss of diamond tides
and long nights
weighed down with thoughts and drugs and alcohol
shutting off each night
on each sunrise
drifting with nomadic intentions we
raged for rage’s sake
on green lawns with signs painted
dig deeper into the blazing structure,
the momentum is shifting,
and the Kingfisher is watching
proclaiming from mountaintops
that killers hunt these city streets
with a pocket full of bad ideas
the prey a sparkling barfly
clean and holy beneath a neon color palette
potential squandered in a scream of confusion
knowing that not every leap
is a leap of faith
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 3:45 PM UTC