"digitalized" poems
Mount Kenya University; our school
Has really scaled the heights
Climbed the mountains of education
In and outside the country.
However, we as students have to sweat it out
To climb personal mountains of education.
That’s why am not happy
From Monday to Friday
My precious time and fare
Gets wasted
So that I can attend lectures.
Here I am
A digitalized engineering student
Who has designed a robot
For taking me up there above the clouds
To punish they who brought
All this book-struggling to us.
The robot is climbing up
The steep steps of the atmosphere.
In heaven I am now
Holding a cane.
I dispenses three hot strokes of the cane
On Eve’s buttocks
Then advances towards her husband.
But Michael the Arch-angel
Kicks me back to my seat
At Uniafric house
Where am listening to a lecturer
Who is possibly lecturing for eternity
He does not seem to understand
That my dry throat needs some unlocking
That my lover
Is waiting for me.
Have a look at Nairobi city!
Lit like a bush
Full of countless glow worms.
Look at the beautiful
Gleaming lights of Tribeka club!
At the cheap hotels
Located at Odeon Cinema
Am forced to take lunch
Of chips which cost thirty bob
They say it’s usually prepared
Using some poisonous electricity transformer oil.
My pockets are
really too small
for the likes of Java.
But my fellow mountain climbers
Let’s fold the sleeves of our shirts
To hold onto the mountain’s
tricky walls for guidance
To climb all the way to the top.
And of course
We will have plenty to enjoy
In the snow capped peak of the mountain
Armed with huge jackets
For preventing the destructive advances
Of the then present world.
©2013 Vetelo Ngila
The writer is a Journalism student at Mount Kenya University, Nairobi campus, Kenya.
Contact: [email protected] OR [email protected]
Jun 27, 2013
Jun 27, 2013 at 6:31 AM UTC
And so I'll like your selfie,
and I may send you an encouraging message.
Digitalized and marginalized
you exist upon a screen.
To me and my solipsist mind,
all that is real is all that is before me.
All that is after me is fiction,
something I, and millions of other poets may attempt to write,
but realness is lost.
It can be compared to trying to relay a first hand experience to another,
it is impossible to do completely.
I can tell you that the trees swayed nonchalantly and that the water was crisp and welcoming but you will never know what it was like to be on the lake that day.
If Jesus Christ himself were to tell me change my ways...
Put the music on repeat,
put the *** in the pipe,
pull the covers over your chest,
put your tongue inside my mouth,
and wake up,
I will do the same.
The thought of you,
the idea of you,
the digital image of you and everything you've said to me excite different parts of my body.
All these things excite my mind.
Your words excite the blood vessels in my cheeks and your body excites my groin.
I drink a tall glass of water,
I ********** thinking of you,
and I fall asleep hoping to dream of you.
I dream of you putting your tongue in my mouth.
My body excites in my slumber,
and though I only kiss you in my dreams,
I **** you in my shower.
I'm a mountain man dreaming of the desert,
and you're a Midwest girl dreaming of the ocean.
I want to feel your legs around my neck,
your hands held in mine,
and your tongue in my mouth and around my ****
I want this of her and her and him and her and you but I cannot have it.
So I've masturbated 3 times today and if the son of God told me to change my ways I might need to ********** twice, thrice more.
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 11:58 PM UTC
i’ve been photoshopping old memories in attempts to bring back color to over-faded, twice-forgotten black-and-whites
tried dodge and burn but that’s too close to what happened
you dodged so i burned like a stack of photographs and albums in a house fire started by christmas lights
maybe if i crop myself out you’ll turn bright again
until your whole face washes out and i can feel like you’re a stranger again
replace all your blues with harsh reds and sharpen all of my blurred edges
for a while things felt like polaroids,
instant results
but then i realized that i was just wasting film by taking one photo per roll at a time
i was ruining prints of thirty five other potential moments
we were never digital
but we were only ever digitalized,
conversations only spent on snapchat and half-second smiles in hallways
i’ll layer all of our photographs
because we sure as hell never had layers then
your smile is the same in every single one of them, but my expression is always off and my eyes are never quite the same level of jaded
somewhere along the line i’ve realized that no photographic evidence was ever taken of our life
i’m just looking at bad sketches with too many filters
i don’t even remember the sound of your voice
i’m writing poetry about strangers again,
people who have never existed outside of my head
maybe that’s just a bad coping mechanism, pretending that you’re just pretend
but i’ve been struggling with hallucinations lately
because photographs and light and sound is so **** easy to bend into whatever shapes you want memories to take
i haven’t trusted myself for three years now and i’m not about to start
overconfidence leads to the edges of cliffs
and i’m all too familiar with the steep drop of the ravine
when did photographs of you become a foreign language to me?
when did i stop recognizing either of us? why can’t i look myself in the eye anymore?
photoshop steals the life from my laptop battery
and reminiscing on things that may or may not have actually happened steals energy from me
so i’ll try to see if we can forcefully power down this crooked old machine
unplug me
i don’t want these memories saved anymore
delete everything
delete everything
unplug me
delete me
delete me
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 12:51 AM UTC
A digitalized **** has been put in a toaster
Transported through pipes
Send off as holy grail bananas incorporated
Stamped 70 cents
Whipped out the door as hot air
The receiver the receiver guess who
300 watts or more
Kb's amplified to Z
The clerk awaits it with both hands
But that's just **** guessing
Or **** gassing if you like
'You like the smell?' will be a statement made with Royal grace
Pancakes will be served too
& by the way
Who said Bob Dylan was a country singer?
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 8:25 AM UTC
I watch you sleep
through digitalized glasses,
Filtered through plaids ,
interpreted through
whiskey allegiances.
Wolff
May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 5:26 AM UTC
An x-ray view of what was before while looking for the after now
Like a resurrection and afterlife on some biblical prophecy
Be aware on the conscious for its under attack by malware
soon to fully develop into a spyware
Your mental is like your software
Operating system needs an upgrade
This virus just gave it a reboot
With simple task manager for putting on a mask
Betterment of the self is a daily update
Because the past is what you have lived and it all crashed
But we need to understand that our attention on affection is being hacked
Being scanned everyday as we usher into the era of the cyborg
Some lifestyles we need to abort
Social interaction is digitalized
friends are stranger on social media
Here was the birth of social distancing
industrialization sign in globalization to confinement
Can’t we see the danger!?, people have become invisible
Let put aside propaganda its not in this piece’s agenda
In an atmosphere filled with uncertainty
dwells fear of change with a wave of intolerance
A dominant experience at the moment is sense of grief
notion of sadness, despair, helplessness, powerlessness and anger
Fragment of blame, echo chambers of many
Negative escalation of human degradation
Issue is on face mask as the color of the skin
Being policed by leaders with empty promises
It feels like the pandemic took a 360 degrees turn
to make it a worldwide web
In some ways it has come full circle
back to localization, national budget and personal introspect
Everyone is loading their data
refresh the mind on the page
what does history show
Before the hand shakes, people kissed to greet
Here we tap our feet
Gathering set the tone of joy
Togetherness was a remedy now in a memory
We just have to stick as family
unfamiliar at a point of acceptance becomes familiar
Mar 12, 2021
Mar 12, 2021 at 2:53 AM UTC
Weak static creates an uncomfortable tautness in the air.
A sound emitted from the screen is heavy, weighing.
Muted light grips to ions which imperceptibly moss over the dusty glass monitor.
A world within a dish.
Slapdash pixilation.
Fragments—just fractions, part in snaps.
No image takes form in the storm of digitalized points, indistinctive refrain is absently composed.
The apartment, thick with a cloudy green hue.
Stripped, pink shoulders, a flush which spreads in a subtle frenzy—
Bleeds across an exposed chest.
Vulnerable core.
Noticeably contracting, beating the high concentration of life from one source
Into branched capillaries.
Into plush, coy lips—
Hush.
Sinews tear, a dark liquid pools, liberated from perforations.
Flowing from the source and staining porcelain teeth.
Indulgence.
The innate capability to devour proves true outside feasting.
Femininity of unbridled ******* and echoing amusement,
Eternalized.
Cataplexies pressed and dried upon blank, white pages which prove difficult to turn—
only facilitated by the hand of time.
A vast expanse of briny depths outstretches further than what’s perceivable.
Waves rock a feeble coo which escapes from child’s lips at the spectacle of a mother.
Cri de Coeur
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 12:28 AM UTC
How does one romanticize
a love completely digitalized?
Hands never held,
but grasping nevertheless.
It'd be a lie to say I never lied
but you, you used me
to fantasize about a life
you wished you possessed.
How many sunrises spent me?
Never in reality...
It was almost midnight
at my place
as you spoke to me of high IQs
and all the girls that loved you,
and how you wished I
wasn't so far away.
I was on a train to your country.
Although it'd been years, I thought you'd see me
We spoke on the phone
when I got there.
You said that you were "so busy"
I laughed and asked you, "seriously?"
our friends said,
"it's not just you, we swear."
I waited for you at the beach.
A group of us, looking at the sea,
then I felt something sprinkle
on my head.
Above me you were, familiar sight
I pursed my smile with all my might.
I wanted to run to you
but I waved instead.
We walked together out to the cliff
I asked to go farther, you weren't interested,
so I walked to the edge
by myself.
Looking out there at the bay
you grew up near, how strange?
I am here without
your help...
Two years later, I'm back again
It's a long story, involving my friends.
I have no hopes of seeing you
this time.
I have a little life here, there's places I go.
Things are familiar, people I know.
And you don't even cross my mind.
Then we all ended up
drinking and dancing at a club
when I saw your name
in yellow neon.
Tunnel vision closed in on the sign.
What is a love I can feel that's not mine?
I felt stuck,
though I'm the free one.
It wasn't real, all you said wasn't true
I loved a you that's not really you.
I suppose I should be grateful
you kept him from me.
And no matter how much I wish it away,
I still wish I could meet him someday.
Not you, not now,
someone different completely.
I wandered back out to the cliff
In my mind I thought it so dangerous.
Why do we make things bigger
than they are in real life?
My imagination built mountains.
It built a house that we lived in.
It's abandoned now,
but I still stop by.
This was once a sanctuary,
a place where the world was your stories.
Truth was whatever
you decided to show.
And now you're off in reality
I wonder if you tell them about me.
I know a you
they'll never know.
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 10:36 PM UTC
can you watch the sky?
I mean can you sit & give nature your time?
be still and listen
simply give her the patience she needs
instead of staying blind to life
scrambling for a screen to hide behind
too digitalized to care
if the moon is out tonight
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 6:30 PM UTC
PoemI thank God that i get to live
In this world that has more to give
From the fresh air of the daisies
To the soft nature of the lilies
I love being alive to see it all
I get sad to see people lost
Indulging in drugs that come at a cost
Some lose their lives right before my eyes
For they chose to ignore advise thinking it's lies
It hurts that I'm alive to see it all
I try to empower youths with words
They're just sayings but they throw in cards
That shows how life is like a game
We all have different cards,it's never the same
I'm alive to help in the change and all
I myself am a voice of change
Reason with me you'll see i ain't strange
I won't judge you cause i don't know
How life has pinched you and more
I'll hear you out ,if you willing to pour it all
I see them walk half naked in the streets
I see them smoke and drink in every corner of the city
They are ready to fight
They have got such loose ****** morality
But I hear them say they are digitalized
They never seek advice from the elderly
They have forgotten that old is gold
Do they really know the future they behold?
They are tomorrow's leaders
They're the ones who wanna lead us
But I hear them say they are digitalized
They call themselves vegetarians
Reason every time they chew khat like cud
Smoke **** like chimneys
I wonder if they too see their future bend
But I hear them say the are digitalized
_iamlegrande_
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Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 5:25 AM UTC