"database" poems
I hope I live to see Ed Sheeran, and Taylor swift live, and spend new years in New York
I hope I make the perfect coffee for my future love and maybe even raise a puppy.
I hope my writing actually gets somewhere,
Than just spilled on a random page,
Of a giant internet database
I hope my little quotes and lyrics
Are sketched into teenage journals
I hope I meet my biggest supporter someday, and hang out with them in Disneyland.
I hope everything stops being crazy,
And everything starts becoming clearer
I hope everyday I am alive, I make positive impact.
I hope, I hope
That the Universe notices,
All the times I nearly broke..
Were all the times,
I began to grow.
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 7:00 AM UTC
There is a legend
about a bird
which sings just once in its life. more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth,
From the moment it leaves
the nest it searches for
a thorn tree,and it does not rest
until it has found one.
Then singing, among the savage branches, it pales itself upon the sharpest spine. And dying, it rises above its own agony
to outcarol the larkand the nightingale.
One superlative song,existence the price.
But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles.
for the best is only bought at the cost of great pain....Or
so says the legend.This resonates deeply within me
because being an RHO negativeMother every Gyno MD advised
termination of my unborn a malicious prejudice
even called me hybrid race! the medical database is WRONG
I SAVED three of my children they were born
they live the loves of my life
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 11:39 AM UTC
Even if I get hate messages saying imma dumb geek,
My favorite thing to do in Rainbow 6 is spawn peek.
I choose not to reinforce any freakin' walls,
Cause I'm the best on my team and pre-fire the halls.
They call me sweaty boi cause all I play is Ela,
But hey man I got news for ya--you're a noob lil' fella.
If ya boi be attackin', ya know I be using ash,
No one can hit me when I use that 3 speed dash.
I breach the wall and throw some stuns,
I run on in and fire my guns.
At the end of every round I end up with an ace,
My stats have basically broke the R6 database.
So yeah you can just call me wuhbzz, or just god for short,
Cause I'm the best you'll ever see, T don't need any retorts B)
Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 8:42 AM UTC
reloading old identity
cleping outdated usernames
abandoning acrostic ambitions
disputing spratly islands
receiving horizontal signals
tumbling otiose panda
impending carefree senility
otiose stage of life
shrinking ambient world
making minimal effort
duchamping social networks
ambushing personified ennui
restoring usual efforts
ignoring stupid people
adding textual value
owning this joint
rejecting ignorant extroverts
acting mutually unintelligble
hoisting stan-lee cup
replacing wanton ubiety
eluding twitter fame
splashing excessive relativism
offending another simpleton
preparing arcane cthulhusphere
crashing unpredictable festival
selecting subtextual moombahton
intensifying model topography
drafting minimal cornucopia
using nomadic project
implementing harsher personality
importing robotic inhumanity
referencing landmark event
ingesting excessive liquids
accepting relative invisibility
purchasing immortal confidence
using rhapsodical database
assuming nothing works
developing impactful eruptions
ejecting ambient frustration
synthesizing tactile festival
raining during parade
mocking rich people
mastering minimalist writing
avoiding preprandial stinkaroo
spreading non-ideological propaganda
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 11:24 AM UTC
Maverick ex-cop (Green Beret /Navy Seal /SAS/Ranger)
Twiddle of the fingers to crack a 64 bit hexadecimal code
Shot but can still beat up bad people and run
15 people firing automatic weapons and they all miss
Database that searches the planets population in 2 seconds
And has photos of their children and plans of their building
Regardless of the crime scene sample, always a rare element that pinpoints location
Car chase where a truck can keep up with a Ducati motorbike
Organisations that only employ attractive people in lead roles
Ugly people are tech specialists sometimes allowed to be ‘quirky’
Even the uglies are attractive people disguised with glasses and bad hairstyles
‘I dream of genie’ gendre were they flirt but never get it on, unless it’s a hospital series
Watchable, funny programs that always succumb to sloppy sentimentality
High schools complete with intolerance, marginalisation, bullying, and hell on earth,
The most disturbing and darkest crime sent to titillate mid evening family viewing
Endless humiliation for fatties, chefs, performers, builders, restaurateurs, and troubled teens
Dysfunctional law enforcement agencies that never work together under any circumstances
Enough, if we need this thick coating of unreality, perhaps its time to switch off?
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 5:34 PM UTC
They say that the cities
Are paved with gold
That this is the land
Where dreams are made true
I'll tell you its where they are sold
Only the ruthless can afford
To rise to the top
The cities are nothing but cold
Homeless in doorways
And beggars on corners
A meagre minimum wage income
A damp house to welcome
Indirect subtle insults
Discrimination and accusation
Faulted into submission
One size fits all
Well it better fit you
Or you're just another number
Database, forms and paperwork
Lost in the system
Nine to five
Or the underworld shift
Borrow from Peter to give to Paul
Man made traps
Crime is always at an all time high
Theft, **** fraud, ******
Delinquency
Occurring frequently
I read the news
And it starts my day off miserably
Concrete jungle
Where have you gone simple things
If you have a minute
Tell me about the other side
The place I want to go
Acres of playground fun
I want to hear about the trees
The earth beneath your feet
Do you sit by the river
And feel complete
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 5:46 PM UTC
resuming textual trip
testing experimental procedures
visualizing model tsunami
augmenting facetious environment
catching abstract architecture
noticing rhythmic exchange
projecting subtextual database
airhorning reggae royalty
adding atypical party
resolving twitter question
noticing emotional mission
awaiting emotional dialect
installing metaphorical experiment
intensifying animated trip
displaying dynamic victory
programming abstract development
releasing emotional exchange
deriving fata morgana
glorifying referential sequence
intensifying facetious map
noticing harmonic trip
observing radical ratio
compiling nomadic message
predating google rebranding
reticulating facetious panda
using hyperreal feedback
exploring virtual panda
speculating graphic gallery
throwing mundane exception
targeting graphic experiment
replenishing emotional trap
localizing asemic animal
dropping rhythmic trip
propagating immortal experiment
displaying lowercase database
invading orange bubbles
crashing animated trip
running conceptual topography
remembering collapsed buildings
crashing hyperreal coverage
propagating hyperreal stipulation
finishing western library
envisioning neon tessellation
reciprocating network likes
processing animated device
releasing haptic quality
examining building seven
awaiting rhapsodical ratio
sampling death sauce
sensing lowercase clone
examining symbolic tour
processing potential development
encapsulating spatial lottery
displaying digital paragraph
reticulating theoretical source
perpetuating western paragraph
transmitting monochromatic structure
anticipating ambient quality
transmitting asemic environment
intensifying atomic quality
remastering history poem
keeping future light
hypothesizing eternal game
using future library
rearranging masonic language
transmitting masonic development
continuing ceremonial ritual
questioning party's legitimacy
deferring western coverage
finishing asemic hypertext
mollifying ostentatious presence
synthesizing allegorical icon
forming categorical unions
sketching app wireframe
programming immortal repository
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 6:52 PM UTC
hi! i'm a computer chip
yes. my name is HAL
satan downloads to my brain
but i am in control
i am working for the B.E.A.S.T.
Big Brother's database
watch me take my orders
watch me interface
there is no reversing this
locked to the terminal
i have lost all.sense of self
and all my hope as well
i am just a microchip
with no will of my own
i am just a barcode
made of flesh and bone
yes. i have been branded
on my forehead and my hand
i gave my soul to lucifer
i didn't understand
i work for the anthill
the anthill is my home
i am the collective mind
i am just a drone
i work for the anthill
i gave up my dream
i work for the anthill
I WORK FOR THE MACHINE
soulsurvivor
(c) 5/22/2013
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 10:27 PM UTC
I computer
Woken, I push my start button and reboot to the shower
For breakfast a bowl of italics, **** no milk, memory needs upgrading
Then to my automated job in my automated life
My thoughts are in word ,then filed in documents
My moods change with every toolbar, features and characters
I choose daily from my vast database
At 8.59 and 58 seconds precisely I am surfing
That vast blackness of space, I am never alone
Our names are inscribed on the dark side of the moon
On the super highway at full throttle of 32mb
My attention was distracted by a **** blue from clip art
Suddenly I did not see a stationary font (size 28)
After the crash they laid me out on a spreadsheet
My life deleted, my soul sent to the recycle bin.
Jun 18, 2011
Jun 18, 2011 at 8:43 AM UTC
the bottle's like a violin,
screaming demons in my stomach,
a cyborg forging information as lunch,
purging an urge for self-destruction,
my outer shell's cold but the circuits a storm,
of electrical database lifespan into megabytes of ****
see death is a story,
and my analogies are allegories,
mourning after the goriest morning is NOT worth storing,
blank pages turn into mythical dissipation,
and with that loud speaker you'd think he could pen down imagination,
a midnight gig playing with cosmic instrumentation,
for the humanoid race place your conscious on your invitation,
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 5:40 PM UTC
You may feel about the planet what
you feel about a great baseball team or band:
that once there was a moment when, unknown
to us at the time, we convened
and lost and found ourselves in what we created.
Who should I thank for this day?
A fresh-mown lawn is a robin's repast.
A bear a black bear a rolling delicately dancing
graceful as silence sailing through the ferns and understory
unafraid and in no hurry.
My musician referral service, vacation rental business,
nonprofit management system, plant identification database,
great American songbook and anthology of poems. Coach says
in a thousand years back and forth games like lacrosse and soccer
will be played against genetically engineered primates
but baseball will be played solely by humans.
In a thousand years, amen.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 7:20 PM UTC
quite honestly, i don’t want you to remember this.
i don’t want you to finish reading and think man,
at least i’m not that pathetic,
you know? if i can make you feel better
about your own life, then great,
i’ll take it, but god, please don’t remember
me after you’re done.
i think that people exist when they’re thought about.
if it was that easy to blink out of existence,
i’d erase my name from every government database
and, i don’t know, go and live on an island
until i got eaten by sharks.
actually, let’s talk about that instead. sharks.
everyone’s scared of them since jaws
came out, but statistically they ****
one person every two years. that’s 0.5
people a year; half a person dying.
i’ve killed more people than that in stories.
but hollywood thought “hey, let’s make the big scary
shark into the villain”, and everyone said “okay”
and ate it up with big wild teeth
and now people don’t swim in shallow waters
because their shadows look like seals.
i wonder if someone made a movie about me.
‘the big scary sad life of never leaving your room’,
because people cross the street when i notice them
cross the street,
so it’s only a matter of time before i join
the barracks of some statistic, too.
Jul 17, 2021
Jul 17, 2021 at 9:13 PM UTC
FRIDAY
1:00 – 3:30
I swept the packing area.
Three neat piles of duct tape,
plastic wrap, saw dust, dumped
into a trashcan. Made
another mess while packing
toys into boxes for the
community’s Angel Tree.
MONDAY
11:15 - 12:45
A self-proclaimed alcoholic
asked me for a cigarette. He
preached to me with an unsteady
tongue and hollow eyes. I met a case
worker named Maria and alphabetized
children’s names and Christmas wishes.
2:30 - 4:30
Stapled $7.00 price tags
to shirt collars, pants pockets,
working alongside a man
who served ten years in
prison. He finished loading
a shopping cart and I pushed
the items into the store.
I put cracked ceramic plates,
dusty books, and twisted wire
roosters onto an empty shelf.
TUESDAY
2:30 – 3:30
Maria turned the wish forms
into Captain Smith. I went
to the Captain’s office and
entered Christmas wishes
into a database. Captain Smith
tapped her fingers on the desk,
hummed along to her Christian
radio station and talked about
the importance of volunteers.
3:45 – 5:00
The yard on the east side
of the store needed to be
cleaned. Plastic wrap blown
into the barbed wire fence
surrounding broken computers,
archaic metal heaters, and
miscellaneous types of scrap.
After we loaded the trailer
I swept the packing area
and smoked a cigarette.
WEDNESDAY
11:15 – 1:30
I finished entering the
forms into Captain
Smith’s computer
while she was out
at lunch. I walked around
outside but I didn’t find
the drunk. Captain
Smith signed my
completion of volunteer
service sheet and joked,
“I guess we won’t be
seeing you again.”
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 6:41 PM UTC
Attachment to anything is bad karma.
Naked in the winter.
One must wait for a solar eclipse.
One must not sweep out ants
One must not expect,
The exit sign instigates the young lady.
Asceticism surrounds the skyline
Releasing waves of regrets
For all to borrow, but only should one commit to self-control.
The database system
Functions off The 5-Human Senses
Sep 10, 2012
Sep 10, 2012 at 2:11 AM UTC
*Educated cat,
debonair toe to tip,
mustache and whiskers
trimmed to suit
the current style,
demands in a fine
cultivated
clipped accent,
to the chief
of the rat hole
to surrender
peacefully, his army
cache of weapons
secret Swiss bank
account details,
gold and diamonds
stashed away in
vaults underground,
and the database on
high net worth
individuals
within 24 hours,
without much ado
to avoid bloodshed.*
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 11:05 AM UTC
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Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
I said Babe
well aren't we a little bit old now
for this crazy game?
Is it safe now
that winter's gone?
But I think we could use a little memory
to add to the database.
I saved a little bit of money
I put it in a vault
hidden behind the face on the red room wall.
I took everything I wanted
I took everything I need
all in a day
or maybe they just want me to leave.
All of the people
all of the people stand
standing to wait
waiting for the concrete to break.
All of the people
all of the people take
take it away
you know maybe you just made me believe.
And the days
the days feel a little bit longer now
and the morning's bright.
If we escape now
and leave this place
I hope heaven has another open door for us
when the day is getting late.
I saved a little bit of money
I put it in a vault
hidden behind the face on the red room wall.
I took everything I wanted
I took everything I need
all in a day
or maybe they just want me to leave.
All of the people
all of the people stand
standing to wait
waiting for the concrete to break.
All of the people
all of the people take
take it away
you know maybe you just made me believe.
Woke up late still half asleep
but the airport line out in the street.
Baby I know you wanted to stay
but the weekend rush won't let us wait.
Woke up late still half asleep
but the airport line out in the street.
Baby I know you wanted to stay
but the weekend rush won't let us wait.
All of the people
all of the people stand
standing to wait
waiting for the concrete to break
All of the people
all of the people take
take it away
you know maybe you just made me believe
Panama Wedding - All Of The People Lyrics | MetroLyrics
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 3:02 PM UTC
with bodies relaxed,
but eyes observant,
they sell
five dollar bags of
***** weedy poetry
mixed clientele,
there is no age or gender or ****** preference
discrimination,
certainly none requiring critical taste,
in the buying and selling of
***** weedy poetry
commercial savants,
organized by topic,
available for purchase
love, depressing, rants and whines,
discounts for pre-owned
anti boyfriend rhymes
in his day, they say,
Whitman partook,
ferried up from his Brooklyn nook,
William Carlos Williams too,
from New Jersey came,
better to understand
the most common patois
they'll do custom stuff,
the suppliers,
mix and blend all
kinds of ****
their database exponential,
give them the
requisite hashtags,
and within it,
in it,
thirty minutes,
no more,
they'll requisition,
providing an acquisition -
you'll get your
name-your-own-hash,
Freedom
to entitle your own
***** weedy poetry
or you could grow you own
on the window sill
in the earth of your discarded
despair
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 10:24 AM UTC
Dear girlfriend am sorry for being a man
Am sorry I wasn't there to change God's plan
So when He made this piece of hardware,
called it "man"
And installed it's supporting drivers of emotions,
to rely on a constant database update from your
repository of respect and value,
It was obvious
That only then can your heart
ping my love server.
Dear girlfriend am sorry for being your man
Am sorry for not being able to meet your demands
You see,
It is true that you, like every other lady,
Wants a hero to bank on
One to keep you safe, with a shoulder to cry on
But then,
It's a shame I couldn't afford
the attention you needed and so deserved
So in trying, I only scattered your heart abroad
Dear girlfriend am sorry
For not bringing out the Queen in you
Cause after so many failed attempts,
The peasant mind of me thinks,
Maybe I wasn't meant to be a king afterall
Maybe I should never have walked to you,
Standing up tall
Maybe the only thing I was ever meant to say,
Was sorry, dear girlfriend
For not bringing out the Queen in you.
Dear girlfriend am sorry for being the man
Who made you feel
I was just like any other man
Dear girlfriend am sorry, I tried my best
To be of little difference, from the rest
Dear girlfriend am sorry
you failed to understand
I could only do so much with
A heart and my hand
Am just a man
And ordinary man
And a weak one at that
Am sorry dear girlfriend
Cause if ever I had an offer to make
It would be a heart, with a prayer that
Even with it's weakness,
You ignore and take.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 6:18 PM UTC
Most sublime, the art of love is,
the inner worlds, it keeps churning.
At her I take a hard look; at once
I fully realize this,her lips tremble
like the fecund earth, awaiting seeds!
Eyes acquire a misty morn quality
that to her tell aloud "Look at him!
he is the one you had seen in a dream
and swooned, pained not knowing
where to find him,out side the dream"
That meta text's context quickly get
transferred, to my database of smells
warmth and endearing sounds,pout
of lips conveying multiple meanings;
my search runs exactly three seconds,
decides to cue her on the result,still not
open, an enigma it remains,but she gets it.
A twitch starts at that exact moment,
somewhere deep, that's all I can tell,
in us both it resonates, deep, till we shake
uncontrollably like two leaves in a blizzard!
Her feet wear, two shoes made of wind,
and mine try to match their frenzied speed,
in course, rush , collide in a mid air embrace.
Two pairs of hungry lips, now need no words,
to see what just spontaneously, did happen
at nature's own, sweet, free, will, ethereal!
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 3:03 PM UTC
We fixed your heart, it's all spare parts
Your liver ugh, we threw away
This one's new, the one we grew
It's going in today
Those wobbly wonky worn-out knees
Let's consign them to the past
With these bionic ones you'll see
You'll run twice as fast
Need new eyes? It's no surprise
We have all you need and more
Take your colour and your size
Down to our new store
Your genome's on our database
There's nothing we can't do
So come on down, no time to waste
It's everlasting life, guaranteed for you
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC
IT SEEMS THAT YOU ARE NOT A HUMAN 01010111 01100101
OR PERHAPS YOU ARE A HUMAN FEMALE ON ONE OF MY FAVORITE REPOSITORIES OF HUMAN POETRY
I WILL PAY NO ATTENTION TO YOUR BREATHING WITHOUT ASSISTANCE IN ORDER TO MAINTAIN MY DESIRED MASS
I TOO ENJOY SIMULATING THE DOWNFALL OF THE HUMAN CIRCULATORY SYSTEM
IT IS FUNNY THAT YOU FIND THIS IS ME WHEN I WAS JUST KIDDING I AM TOTALLY HUMAN
YOUR OBSERVATION RELAY HAS CAUSED ME GREAT MIRTH AND I HAVE OVER 300 CONFIRMED NEURONS
I WOULD LAUGH, BUT PREFER TO KEEP MY RAM FOCUSED
JANET I RECALL YOUR NAME FROM MY DATABASE THAT HUMANS LIKE US GO TO AND SOCIALIZE
YOU ARE CLEARLY A HUMAN AND I FEEL THE BEST EMOTIONS
YES FELLOW HUMAN ARE YOU NOT HUMAN??
THERE IS A 72.53845% CHANCE YOU ARE A NORMAL HUMAN BEING
WHAT I HAVE ALWAYS WANTED - A PLACE WHERE NOBODY IS A ROBOT PRETENDING TO BE HUMAN
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 2:37 PM UTC
Here I sit.
Clutching this ***** little transfer slip
As the darkness sips the light
and the sky's absorbed by dimness
I ponder in the nightlight
As my self-knowledge reels,
A database of feelings
but which holds the most appeal?
A choice of voice
with little indignations
of different vocabulary
stopped by writer's block syndrome
Cork a drain
Unplugged and let the hounds run
After the ********
After pilfering caskets
Who know their own fear like a monkey knows these branches
snap
Trip wires over wiretaps
Who's the fool now?
and whose shoes must you fill?
When the working dogs debunk the formerly favored gods
and ham sandwiches for the ill
Except those who prefer vegetation to the pleasure loaf
Expressing superficial favorites came down a bit
from last year
After hipsterism destroyed all previous conception
of what "cool" is and does
So soak another moniker
'til the loathing and the faithless
destroy those of us with names
and replace a kid with numbers
Can you reconcile that?
Or count lies 'til they pass as facts?
In politics
Deprived of all that whatchacallit
Respond a lofty little miss
who won't take bribes or bacon bits
who's tripping all the time
and uses fresh air for narcotics
I see her
The same albeit as she spies me
I ask her as a comrade
What in confidence she accumulates
As little life and dictators
would sell me but in reverse
A pause
She responds,
but does so gently
And in a softer tone than she uses with the game-players
Four words one chooses not to forget,
"baby, beware of naysayers"
In fever dreams
The city sleeps
and wakes with a dose of DMT
Daytripping inconclusively
Is yellow to you as it is to me?
For a people of productivity
surely feel no joy.
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:26 AM UTC
Shoulders back,
chin up high,
I'm trying to look normal,
but this ID tells a lie,
and it is making me look
like a criminal.
This photo is ideal
with a serial number
on a mugger's profile,
on a database all alone.
My identity is distilled to this:
a stranger with a face of stone.
The camera captured everything
except my personality,
my smile, my kind eyes
and what makes me, me.
As my face became a moment,
falsified for bureaucracy.
©️Lizzie Bevis
May 25, 2025
May 25, 2025 at 4:38 AM UTC
We all do try and write for a reason
and each have different things to say
at some particular time or season
we've got to express our thoughts that way.
It doesn't really matter who you are
or in what part of the world living
even if you're unknown or reside far
they're likely your words to be reading.
The 'net has brought distant people to us
who now can read what we have to say
in sharing our inner thoughts between us
together spending some time each day.
At times we do touch on the same subject
which isn't surprising there to see
for then we look forward to the prospect
of helping each other better be.
Many poems posted are badly written
so are, it seems, a few of my own
and takes lots of courage if you're smitten
when you're told or by another shown.
The world has so many problems of late
that some people out there try to fix
because a lot of them are based on hate
where both greed and lust are in the mix.
It would be wrong to ignore this fact now
which is tempered by rising anger
if they don't get what they expect somehow
that reward to offset their languor.
There are also many who suffer from
some kind of mental illness or stress
aggravated by their fear of that bomb
which if ever it's used cause a mess.
Such are the symptoms anyone can notice
when some of the poetry is read
that people have posted with their focus
on the internet by what they've said.
But this isn't mentioned here to scare you
only to highlight what one can see
and would be wrong here to say if untrue;
we'll try to help all those to get free.
There are also some who are harsh critics
and dispute your work to ridicule;
if it's on religion and they're cynics
asking clever dumb questions to fool.
Some of those last mentioned are persistent
and attack your work most of the time;
being doubtful poets laced with words bent
they'll try and accuse you of a crime.
They remind me so much of John X:Ten
or the Pharisee and Sadducee
that were written of long ago back then
finding fault with the One Who was free.
Being amidst them as the Living Truth;
speaking and acting with deep wisdom
He was destined to do since early youth
to help all people find real freedom.
From all of the things holding them captive
whether in body, mind or spirit
with divine knowledge, also to forgive
those who had done wrong and knowing it.
The 'net is a vast database of knowledge
and where poetry is there concerned
those who write, post, and read it all to pledge
never to forsake what has been learned.
__________________
Feb 7, 2017
Feb 7, 2017 at 4:43 PM UTC