"cyberspaces" poems
Narcissists
All of us
That crawl the saturated cyberspaces
Howling like shriveled
Infants doomed to die
In the womb, unheard
Be my friend
Follow me
Like me
Quote me
Share me
Favorite my poems
Repeat my tweets
Rank my posts high
Comment on even
The vaguest written word
Subscribe to my channels
Connect to my feeds
Stumble upon
My tumbled thoughts
And filtered photographs
Do you know who I am?
No really. I'm not angry.
Just...do you?
Because I am afraid
I'm afraid you never will.
I scream until my lungs
Collapse upon themselves
But still the shrieking noises
Around me, voices
Surmount my shouts.
I demand your attent
I deserve your loyalty
For no earned reason
Other than
I exist
I am Me.
And who are you exactly?
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 9:48 PM UTC
How well I remember the day we first met
A click of the mouse on the internet
Wondering, questioning, definitely cynical
Could one find love in a manner so clinical
Unable to see each others faces
Just using words in cyberspaces
( Remember the days of the old fashioned dances
The secretive looks, & the furtive glances
The wooing, the cooing, a bunch red roses
Embarrasing silences, - posturing poses )
Sweet words passed, - histories revealed
Pondering, now, how much was concealed
Trust grew, slowly but, surely – just lots of fun
We spoke of Art, & all the things we had done
Then came the day my heart missed a beat
She wrote & suggested, that we two should meet
We met each other on neutral ground
It was hard to stop, - my mind whirling round
The rest of the story is really quite plain
That’s how I found love, - in a corner of Spain
So now I am here to tell all cynics
Click on the mouse, & you'll all write lyrics
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 4:59 AM UTC
Hi, I go by the name Lock&Key; #1139. I don't think I need to tell you that I like to read in my spare time.
As you will see I also like to rhyme.
To just simply say that I love to read.
Well that would be a very big understatement indeed.
Reading allows me to escape.
I always find It amazing that every authors' stories can be started by a single idea or prompt and then somehow a whole universe can begin to take shape.
I have never been all that good at describing or talking about myself.
To tell you the truth I'd far rather be immersed in cyberspaces' version of the traditional bookshelf.
My "friends" often refer to me as a "Computer Nerd"
I am most certainly not what I hear some people being called a "Social Sheep." If I ever have been, (highly improbable) I think I've now become detached from the "Herd."
And yes I know it's commonly known as a flock, I just wanted it to fit. Is that so absurd?
I have never belonged to any specific club, society or click.
I how can I when I'm a wanna-be Broadway or West End actress / world renowned pianist / punk band drummer chick.
Someone once called me a square peg in a round hole.
Or to use a different analogy, socializing for me is like that first walk for newborn foal.
Meeting new people, I don't cope with well.
From these examples you may be able to tell.
"God! You're such a freak!"
"Excuse me?! Did I give you permission to speak?!"
Y'know somethin'? You've just got one of those faces I wanna hit!"
"Hey Loser! Guess what, no-one gives a ****
So yeah, y'all now know why I love to read.
It makes me feel as if my soul has been freed.
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 8:00 AM UTC