"downloads" poems
Picture this...
A girl breaks up with her long term boyfriend and downloads tinder.
The girl tries to play it cool for a little while, flirting, leading guys on, whatever it took to make her feel good.
Because the attention FEELS good and we all know it.
At first it was used to boost her confidence.
Until she started to hate these guys.
Until she realized they were all only looking for one thing and that was her body and not her heart.
Until she noticed the second she got real she would get unmatched.
The countless times she received only one message from multiple guys saying "let's have ***
And when her response was "I'm not that kind of girl" they disappeared.
Yea sure, tinder is a great confidence booster for a little while.
Until you're ready to give your heart to someone and you realize that the size of your *** is more important than the size of your heart.
Or your favourite colour.
Or what makes you smile.
Or what makes you sad.
Girl gets tinder...
And it works for a little while.
But none of them were worth it.
Picture this...
7 months later
Spent swiping and matching and chatting
And shes still hung up on her ex.
Because he saw her for who she was.
And those guys never will.
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 9:38 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
O Internet what would have I done
If you didn't provide me
With the things that I need.
I'll have no friends to speak
No information to grasp for my project ;
No songs, no downloads, no movies
No maps to use when I'm lost my way;
Facebook, Twitter will not exist
Cyber bullying will not be at risk
Through you, the world has gone
Better and worse,
As you provide knowledge to the mind
And corruption to the soul;
May the world realise how good you are,
And you may stay where ever you.
Sep 1, 2017
Sep 1, 2017 at 12:19 PM UTC
This Gen Z Kid..
This teen of mine..
This Young Man I'm reminded..He's my final Son.
This fast growing radiant dark horse
runnin around under the blaze of the hot sun.
Now He's grown into this tall knight champion.
Radiant chilled dark stallion.
He is unique admired and I'm in awe of His Being.
@Times I'd call him the hurricane..
Inwardly lays talents that can become gifted fame.
I believe He hears.. That voice of God.
When God calls his name.
This new kinda techno son.. Video emerged.. Youtube is his tv..
This son is Gen Z!
The cusp of millennials the beginnings of Generation Z.
Our Norms and traditions bothers them none. Open free and caring emotional nomes..
In the virtual reality chemistry..
Chilling inside their rooms in the safety of homes.
My Sons a precious commodity.
What technology wiz will he turn out to be.
Gaming entertaining.. mental challenging.
The Sons who'll be parents to the next Generation of Alpha's..
Babies entertained by notebooks of cellphone tablets.
More then societies adopted habits.
Babes that are digital natives on cellphones genetic cultures.
Terminology texted media exposures.
Data and gigabytes.. downloads and high speeds.
Swiping before being taught a first school lesson.
This is the generation..Z The Digital Sons.
Written by [email protected] (C)2018
Jul 2, 2018
Jul 2, 2018 at 1:01 PM UTC
During discussion with key-board
through internet messenger,
Love sleeps on the bench like a pet
beside the purple-green footpath.
Sharing violet feelings via e-mail,
million megabytes of stamina downloads
And converts instantly smiling-heart
into jpg format to attach with the mail.
Cyber love navigates on cool wave
as a kite walking slowly
On the bluish velvet sky
above a land of beckoning jade-dreams.
Poem 07
Book 'Beckoning Jade-Dreams' April 2007
Copyright Musharrat Mahjabeen
Mizan Publishers, Dhaka, Bangladesh
ISBN 984-8700-82-X
Aug 16, 2012
Aug 16, 2012 at 1:58 AM UTC
Talk to me
Talk to me about half-finished journals and empty theaters
Talk to me about the calluses on the soles of your feet
Do you think they look like art?
Talk to me about the bobby pins stuck between the sheets of your bed
Talk to me about the broken doorbell in your childhood house
Why have you never gotten it fixed?
Do you think it says a lot about your family?
Do you think it’s a metaphor for your parents’ relationship?
Talk to me about the ghosts in your head
I wanna see if they look like mine
If they were friends in some past, unfulfilled life
Talk to me about kites
Talk to me about knee high socks
What do they remind you of?
Talk to me about spilled lemonade
Does the sourness still linger on your tongue
Long after the mess as been mopped up?
Talk to me about your 10th grade English teacher
Do you resent her blatant favouritism?
Do you wonder why she didn’t like you the best?
Do you ever wonder why
It seems like nobody likes you the best?
Talk to me about the peonies in the garbage chute
Talk to me about untied shoelaces
And an 8 year old’s skinned knees
Talk to me about slippery floors
Talk to me about illegal downloads
Talk to me about Tarsiers
Talk to me about oil pastels
Do you prefer them over any other art medium
Because they are dirtier, messier and more difficult to work with it?
Talk to me about recycling
Do you think it’s pointless?
Or do you think it’s gonna make a significant difference?
Talk to me about Broadway musicals
Talk to me about Hercules
Have you ever dreamed of being immortalized
Through the whispering of the stars?
Talk to me about god
Do you think god made man
Or did man make god?
Talk to me about clay pots
Talk to me about cacti
Talk to me about the color grey
Talk to me about plastic balloons
When did you learn that the art of letting go
Is closely intertwined with the tragedy of loss?
Talk to me about films
Talk to me about knuckles
What do you tell your grandmother
When she asks why they are bruised and wounded?
Talk to me about Geishas
Talk to me about roadtrips
And that one time when you were 15
And you drove away in your older brother’s car
Feeling young and reckless and so so alive
Talk to me about pain
Every stabbing hurt
Every mouth filled with blood
Talk to me about joy
Both the abundance and the lack of it
Talk to me about love
And warmth
And light
And the sound of coming home
Talk to me
Write your life’s story on torn Christmas wrappers
And I will hold them in my hands like sacred beads of prayer
Talk to me
Open the cracks of your spine and engulf me in the shade of your eyes
Talk to me
Let me in
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 5:19 AM UTC
Do you still believe your lies
The story you told
Is ages old
So, if truth be told
I’m growing old
Waiting for you to wake up
And makeup
Up, up, up
Do you still give a ****
Isn’t it as much about the cooktop
As getting to the up top
Mountaintop
Dress shop
Island hop
Photo opt
Lollipop
You had better pay up or shut up
Don’t even think for a split second
That that’s my mantra
Said the pieman to the cow
You’re such a monkey mind
With your mixed-up metaphors
And sky-blue pedicures
Did you hear me when I said
Shut up monkey
Reference never mind
Do you ever mind that I so
Casually include you in every line
If you didn’t make an appearance so sweet
No poem would ever be complete.
So Hey
Monkey mind
Did you ever notice how
All the self-proclaimed gurus of love and light
Nothing wrong with love and light
Said girl interrupted
I know, I know
But I’m talking about
The shadow side
Because every good story needs a protagonist.
Getting back to
Me guru
Me thinks
Me right
Yeah well that’s right
Those downloads came straight from heaven
Yep from heaven to earth
They flew
Straight into their guru lap
Excuse me, laptop
Because that’s where they stored
Space permitting
All their wayward followers
like a ladder submitting
Skyward
Hey, guys, I’m back
And I came straight from the light
With a brand-new insight
And I love you so much
Monkeys
Yes, I do
Even if
All you ever do is
Hang upside down from your monkey tail
Telling yourself tall tales
You’re so mixed up monkey
Won’t you ever make up your mind?
Why do I always have to read between the lies?
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 9:44 PM UTC
Hear the motions of the engines,
Speed South to North,
As well North to South,
Care not they, the sounds they make.
It is a confession.
They speed in the land of ****
It increases, then decreases,
As they travel past, the open window,
Winterless blast, a confession,
It feels close to spring.
Care not a bit that sounds, rude, to those who tomorrow,
Will wake up to snow, while the blizzard sounds here,
Are the rush of thoughtless trucks and cars,
Which are driven at speeds above the posted limit,
Even if they don't have to travel so far,
To get home in the drizzle, to their green grass.
Maybe snow would slow them down,
Or keep them off the road entirely,
No, no, not them, they are rude,
They have this attitude,
Drive like this, no matter what the weather,
They are better than the conditions, they drive in.
Another confession, they are in it to win, and no one
else knows there is a contest and contestants.
What a surPrize!
Hand him a sextant as he drives at night, after all he has to navigate,
Through Facebook and Likes and texts and bytes of downloads from
YouTube...would not want to be fashionably late in reply otherwise
Your social life, and status,
may die.
Trafficking bad habits,
Instead of "look out for the other guy or gal"
The phone and the life it holds,
can be dropped,
"worse than a dropped call",
is all the sirens wail as they go by,
Life in the balance, ghosts
White knuckling it with one hand,
While eyes are fixed, to a deathly white screen
And fingers dance solo in some sexless act,
The result is the same a distracted fact,
The mind is no longer in the car,
It has left the body already,
Waiting for it to die,
Watching from above and reaching to all
Who have fingers and a phone
Wanting to be ghosts and sticking to the life,
Which will make it happen.....by accident.
Drive defensively,
Leave your phone in the trunk.
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
The computer
So complex, always developing
Never carefree
Overloaded with so many memories
Of love,
Loss, anger and everything
Screaming signals
For the downloads to just stop
Cancel, change tracks and
Get off
Leaving the paranoia and insecurity behind
All that's left is the battle of the minds
Dizzy with violent thoughts ad fantasies
Overflowing rivers of possibilities
Love is joy, has a limited time
Anger is destructive, and out of line
Grief is never over, and done
Fears yet, to be overcome
The storage continues to overpile
With emotional paralysis
Eventual unconsciousness
-> Download incomplete
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 8:48 AM UTC
I need to assume most people are stupid
enough to believe within minutes of
big names releasing videos anywhere
people are sitting at computer waiting
for music that ***** and give them
millions of views in minutes.
Don't you love how Youtube sits back
and lets it all happen?
I too could have a viral video with tens
of millions of views if I had cash to pay
promoters to add views.
I too could have a number one song if
I could afford to buy people addicted to
apps cards for exchange of my songs.
Great to be rich and get richer knowing
people are dumb enough to believe
getting famous ain't like it was years ago.
All you need is money to buy you downloads
and tens of millions of views to get a viral video.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 5:37 AM UTC
He downloads an app
"how to please a woman"
it's all ********* and rutting...
nowhere does it say
"make a brew now and then"
Dec 18, 2010
Dec 18, 2010 at 10:37 AM UTC
Touch my universe
Touch my reality
My reality's a bubble
Pop it
Touch my everything
Touch my nothing
They're viscous
Swirl them
I want you to throw me to the fires of digital
I want you to kick me into a hole of downloads
I want you to punch me with a fist, full of beautiful status updates
I want your numbers to fall on my chest from fifteen-hundred miles away
I want computer components to crush my legs
Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 4:55 PM UTC
Villains gathered all over the world
Justice being a hurl
The Justice League all geared to take action
The Hulk ready to smash
Superman prepared at a moment’s notice to dash
Wonder Woman and her invisible Jet
Batman and Robin on Bat Alert
Spiderman tests his spider gear
The idea is to put the villains in fear
But across the globe, the villains are waiting for the marvel arrival
A trap they have planned
The idea is to get rid of the marvel heroes throughout the land
This is a new regime that’s in demand
So the Justice League in a meeting in total discussion
The mission is to be prepared to function
All the marvel heroes dash off in various areas of the globe
Villains beware
Its combined strength all the Marvel Heroes will share
So Marvel Heroes watch your step
Villains eye their plan being kept
Superman flies to the Alps
Suddenly Kryptonite downloads his strength
He becomes weak
Its superman’s strength the villains seek
The villains know Superman’s weak point
Attack having effect
The Hulk now is covered in boulders
It seems no way out
But it’s the Hulk’s strength we are talking about
However he does escape
All the rest of the Justice League team all has their own challengers
Yet they manage to conquer them
Justice is continuing to stay on track
Marvel Wonders right in the smack
Justice will take charge
Get ready villains, the Marvel Wonders are going to set the record straight
It will be iron of jails that will be your gate.
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 8:45 AM UTC
I don't belong,
In this "modern age"
Mom said,"Mandy,
You need a face book page"
I had one, once that I abandoned
I must've forgotten why
It didn't take me long,
To remember, it's all a lie
I prefer the woods,
You can't "filter" the view of an evergreen
No downloads in nature,
Just life, real and clean
The sound of squirrels at play,
The smell of rotten leaves
Watching the breaking of day,
No cleavage shown
Not a ***** in site,
Unless the deer are in rut
Then you just might
No "look at me's"
No "See what I've got"
Social media, I believe,
Causes brain rot
If I'm not in the woods,
My nose is in a book
Give me pretty words,
Then I'll take a second look
I already "friended",
Pen and page
I've nary a need,
For a "fake book" page
I like the dirt,
Things that grow
When it's winter,
I like the snow
I say,"Mom, I have an account,
On a poetry site,
Where people read poems
And all of us write.
Our words and dreams,
Thats what we share
And instead of our possessions or skin,
Its our stories, we bare."
Yea, I think it's safe to say
I don't care for this modern age,
And I've nary a single reason
For "fake book" page
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 8:19 PM UTC
The air was different back then, somehow lighter, less heavy metals floating around and nuclear sunsets I suppose. I was born in the 60's but the 70's are my era, long hair, flares, large collars and music that still haunts today. What you need is children to amalgamate past, future, present. With their mp4's, downloads, (records and CD's old hats no one's wearing anymore ) tv box set binges, live pause, catch up, iPads, iPhones, igiveup. Technology speaks to them in so many different tongues and guises, the world has shrunk down to "someone is typing" messages from the other side of the world, nay the universe, friendships based on snapchat, facebook, twitter that don't even have the decency to start with a capital letter, Skype, facetime, with people you don't even have to 'know' coming round wanting tea and outstaying their welcome, instead hanging back in the ether waiting for the right moment the right meme to slot into the conversation. I sit and let it all wash over me, a tide ebbing and flowing long into the night, stretching time zones and bedtimes to the limit, in fact talking beyond bed, those waves never sleeping always whispering, I share music and photographs that are things from my life, they will never understand beyond the boring stories I tell them, a fount of useless information that flows, analogue from the corner of the room, the old man, the old days, you never had it so good, I am in awe, everything new, all to discover, everything to play for, world full of possibilities, not the same old 9-5 humdrum waiting for the weekend so we can pretend to be free again, it's all happening now. I enjoy these moments as an observer, no need to join in just sit and smile, with an occasional LOL or amusing emoji. My daughter bought Hotel California on vinyl the other day, I'm still in there, somewhere.
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 6:06 AM UTC
as they all say before the taxes
and children and mortgage...
ah hmm... life in colours,
postcards on the ready
of who's jealous of who...
go!
i too discovered sardines
in tins like i were christopher columbus
discovering america:
sardines with pineapples or coconuts in tins,
given i was christopher columbus
and only reached the carribean islands
and merely shouted across the two shores:
ahoy new land twice western indies,
we bring your the sport of cricket and
solidarity of something resembling
post-tribal society you're clearly
not comfortable with given your efficient
tribalism, and our doomed post-tribal society
of free music downloads and a monetary system
not based on the magpie's appreciation of
either gold or silver!
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 8:04 PM UTC
*Life in the music industry is hard,
tougher when you discover how it works.*
Dreams smashed, heart broke
and bad taste in my mouth,
signed to a music deal that *****
I write the songs, they profit.
I tour til I'm hoarse and my fingers bleed,
they profit not me.
My label takes a big cut of all I make
I got excited getting that contract.
We got people to buy your downloads.
We make you number one like chart toppers.
Way it works in the industry.
Way to create fake stars who can't sing,
buy tracks from no broke no names over seas
and at home then claim them for your own.
No such thing as realness in music industry.
What I got was empty promises
and more empty promises.
I can't afford to buy gift cards for people
playing popular apps.
I can't give them free downloads of apps
and demand they buy my songs in return.
Way it works and how I get a number one.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 5:01 AM UTC
Imagine a high robotic voice
while reading this...
I WORK FOR THE MACHINE
HI!!! I'm a computer chip.
Yes! My brother's H.A.L.
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.
I cannot get away now.
Hooked 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
Things aren't as they seem...
I work for the anthill.
I work for the Machine.
I will live much longer, yes.
I'm healthy, I'm not shy.
I will do as I am told
Although its all a lie.
The B.E.A.S.T. will take care of me
I will never want
I will follow to my death
Because I wear the MARK.
I will starve and persecute.
I will do it blind.
I hate all Believers
'Cause I don't have a mind.
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 have lost my dream.
I work for the anthill...
I WORK FOR THE MACHINE.
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 4:02 PM UTC
I should be happy
I should be jumping for joy and thrilled.
What I am is tired of touring
and depressed.
Why'd you lie to me?
Why'd you tell me all would glitter?
Why'd you say you could take me to #1?
In your dreams do you have a conscience?
You don't have one when you are awake
and your lips are moving.
Why didn't I listen when I was told
all that glitters isn't gold?
Music industry is based on fake chart toppers.
They tell their people to buy their people cards
to buy their own downloads.
Way you hit #1, way you get that grammy.
Unless you luck out and sing songs about
gays that land you on talk shows.
Maybe I should try that ****
or get a fake reality show.
Got my eyes open and know how it works
thanks to a fake music producer
telling me I could be number one.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 5:10 AM UTC
Two thousand downloads from societies web
Only in one day, a certain success
A few users left, but mostly did stay
For whats to say, “They Will Come Back and Play”
The penalty for leaving
if you even pose the thought
bullying, laughter, certain weeping
for trying have said NO
If you decide on leaving
And simply glare the thought
Your bed will hunt your body
Until you decide to oppose
Tell everyone your not angry
For how are they going to know
They know you are a player
Even when they did wrong.
Make your opinion shallow,
Make sure to think like them
Deny that you like certain things
that way you´ll have a chance
The game with settled winners
The game that leaves you hope
Don’t overestimate the gammers
They have played for far too long
They teach you to play stupid
to never pose a threat
to tell your friends you love them
while thinking about betray
They don’t know what you like
thinking you are like them
trying to fit in
but knowing that you can’t
COME AND PLAY SOCIETIES GAME
only a few winner, but EVERYONE STAYS
Why are you still part of it
Are you afraid what’d they´ll say?
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
I'm Aprochable
Love Is A Must
Ugh ***
Its Not Negotiable
I Can Spot A Ghost In A Snow Cone Bowl
Dig That 1, Thoughts Drum I'm The Anthem
Low Vibrations Their Not My Favorite
I Can't Stand Em
Electricity Misty Seeping From My ****
Thumb
I Am A Perfect Me
Minds Observing The Words I Release
With A ****** Gaze Or A Hey You
Should Take Me To Your Place
Well Then Its Time To Leave
Romance & Passion Is All Of Me
Nature Is The Finer Things
I See Magikal Butterfly's Dancing With Leafs
I'm Nothing Like The Other Guy
Hes Controlling
Masculine Like Police
Jma Stay Tell I No Longer Breathe
I Feel I'm The Only Mind That Can Bring I To Victory Concored Defeat
I've Gone Bonkers On Shrooms
In My Room Thought Monsters Were Under My Feet
I Accept & Admire Every Limb That Can Reach
I Just Speak I'm Deep , Downloads
Constiantely In Me
DNA Ascending Human I Do Not Periceve
Its 3 Am
Witches & Me
****** Rituals
Reciting Exciting Writing
******* Passionately
So Much Purple Leaking
This Casting Circle
Has Morphed To A Sea
I Said Why Are You So Wet The Tip Just Met
She Pressed Said Its Cos Of Me
My Passion Makes Her Feel Like She Can Barely Breathe
Electricity Buzzing Her Guts
Stomach Of Bees
North , South , West, East
So Much Passion Fruit Juice
The Salt Used To Hold Space
Has Defused
****** Organs Checking In To The Mourge In The Morning
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 12:37 AM UTC
Colours, chameleons, snakeskins and the deer that dances across the white wisps of morning.
Numbers that weep, mass numbers that keep the isotope
asleep in a waking state, the meltdown, the run-down and the rich crowned in fine palaces uptown.
Fates and the muse the accusers and those they accuse, the racers, the chasers, the rhyming of grime in the dirt of the day, the way that time will hang me, maybe it wants to bang me, a male state of impregnation my fascination with sea horses.
the lay-by in shop doors, the wasting of drugged ****** the flight of the fancy, another dance of the deer.
The cars that fly by me, the people who try me, those who defy me and those I despise.
The bomb that explodes me and in diagrams downloads me, the workings of watchmen and the watch that don't work.
The young Turks, the old quirks, peccadilloes, worn hedgerows and another dance of the deer.
Robin and Batman both bobbing for apples, grapple hooks at the ready,
utilities all cut-off,
poverty unravelling, travelling slowly up through me making a desert of a fertile sea.
The des res for the wealthy, private care for the wealthily unhealthy and the rotting of yesterday's news.
All what I view is all that I know and now you know it too.
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
As if I cared...
I mean I might ... but
I'm past that point
Where I would ever let her know... again
The things I shared
No dark truth spared
During that insignificant blip
If even that
Along the evolving corridors of time
Was... As I repeatedly said
Impossible to quantify
Without the metronomic
Mechanization of the machinery
To create periodic downloads
That that first 20 days
Had not actually been the six months
That I would have sworn it to be
I was paralyzed ,hypnotized, afflicted addicted, predilected
But there wasn't one fiber of my being
Physical, emotional or spiritual
That held back. ,ever hit pause
Or ever even gave me cause
To doubt.....
I was lost and didn't Fn care
I was all in... .within.....
Those first three hours
AND THAT AIN'T ME!!
Well.... Then again....
I guess it must be
So I heard myself say - and I knew
Absolutely new- as I heard the echo of my words come bounding back
That it was true...... absolutely true
And in many ,many ways
I said to myself
As I absorb those words
With an Invincible Pride
That I had never known before
" I WOULD DIE FOR YOU!"
As the next three weeks passed
Perfection was becoming a word that was a pale ,poor and inferior. relative
After the breathtaking Heights .....
......of my reality
Then as I was still doing trampoline tricks among the clouds
She said. " I'm not ready... I'm confused
I'm still broken but you are perfect you're what every woman would ever want or ever need.
You make me laugh ,you care for me more than any man has ever cared about me, and show it like no other ever has...."
I'm sure there was more
That's all I heard as I took the misstep and fell from the clouds
To hit the ground
Dazed and Confused
But I tried to gather myself
To muster together my Bliss.....this ...is..
Not really that bad
Not the end of the world by any means
The whole thing was just too heady
too quick and I could really see that so....
Relax and let time do its thing
Which I did
Until it turned out that someone else
Had intervened became involved
I just never ever expected something like that to occur......but it did
And at that moment I kept my promise
I DIED FOR HER.....IN EVERY WAY BUT ....."
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 4:26 PM UTC
Learning difference
weighing sameness
to within the spectrum of gravity
on earth.
Balance in valence, whence
---if that is not meaningless,
maybe
colored wombed men, mit henna hair,
come well
within the confines of my fire's light,
bearing news of even'ts and odds and ends,
since we begin
new, night downloads activate
new mercy.
hmmm, not waht I expected.
new mercy, I get it.
My last raton of mercy was exhausted putting me
to sleep. So
whole new mercy, everundamnday!
And, I remember everything. This book,
these lines,
your minds and my roles, oh my,
I owe some sanity to the guy who built etymonline.com,,,
what a treasure that unwombed man has
given AI and I to build
nexts with.
Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 6:39 PM UTC
<i> What is that on my doorstep?
Not another box from Amazon
What the hell is going on?
I know that it isn’t mine
What has she bought again this time?
How much more can she spend?
It’s her money she earns a good plenty
Then why do I consider Amazon the enemy?
She would rather search Amazon than talk to me
She must have Amazon dreams when she sleeps
When I look at the bank records on line
I see Amazon charges almost two at a time
I lack the courage to total up the charges
In the end I guess things could be worse
That **** internet feels like a curse
My wife is an Amazon ******
Her Apple laptop is the devils domain
She spends more time purchasing crap we don't need
It's really hard to prevent her from buying
She has Amazon Prime and delivery is free
She downloads e-books to read on her Kindle
I wish I had the courage to add up all the sales
I am to afraid to even take a guess at a total
So I just shut up and watch the History Channel
Dinner looks like it's on me again
Take out has proven to be my best friend
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 2:08 AM UTC