"gizmos" poems
Welcome to the age
of information
when we are blessed
by wireless waves
passing through
our body/minds
and awakened
by the electronic chemistry
of the computer,
the television,
the radio,
all the little
electrical gizmos
which are everywhere,
so I wonder
what is this doing
to our brains?
so this is not a forest anymore
and it's no wonder
that we can't quieten our minds
no matter how we try
so why don't we just
learn to love
the new electromagnetic ocean
and float on our sea
of meaningless thoughts?
Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 7:20 AM UTC
Widgets and gadgets
gizmos and apps.
Whatever happened
to cause the collapse
of my simple world?
What happened to the
simple pleasures?
The joy of simply living;
the joy of simply loving?
All consigned to the limbo
of a thousand electronic
gizmos.
I used to love a lass.
I gave her all I had
in time and space
and multiple delights.
But it is not enough
to satisfy her nights.
Without apps
she snaps.
That *****
needs her gizmo.
Without widgets
she fidgets.
She must have
her gadgets.
I’d like to bury hatchets
in her gadgets.
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 7:02 AM UTC
My country right or wrong
we shall still sing her song and bombs away
on you
Bombs away on FDR we think he got away too far
in giving peasants below, our merit, the audacity to inherit,
our country 'tis only for me'
We'll work you until your flesh falls off, nine till five is not enough, to sell our gizmos here and far, to gluttons all alike
Ooops! (melody old man river)
... Oh tote dat barge and lift dat bale,
ya gets ah little drunk and ya lands in Jaaail
Pull yourself by your own bootstraps, who cares if opportunity naps, while the "America Dream" fades away
cause thirty years of us
America ' tis only for me but not those signers of Democarcy
in Philly where they took that oath, on that **** parchment
I abhor,
on that damnable parchment I ABHOR!!
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 11:35 AM UTC
There you are!
Don’t you know, you’re the star?
My dear, to stay hidden,
Is just straight forbidden!
The show shall begin,
Your blood, sunlight is in.
Crimson moon, you are mine,
Play the tune, be my crime.
Ring around the carousel,
Send a wish within the wishing well.
Stay with me, for eternity,
You may plea, but cannot leave.
This is fun, don’t you agree?
This is Carnival, doused in gasoline!
Your show is the one that matters,
This is the night the world shatters!
I will break me, to take you,
You are my alluring brew.
What if I told you I convinced time,
Just to be your immortal mime?
Don’t forget, my ****** dove,
That this Carnival is for the one I love.
Endless fun for a small price,
I shall die for you a million times.
Have all you can eat,
Then you may take a seat;
Get your utensils, paint some art,
Let magic course through your heart.
This is Carnival!
Oh babe, this is unbelievable!
You just stay in the hat,
This is where the joy is at.
Can’t you see it?
Maybe your mind is just not fit.
Beautiful light, nothing ever bleak,
Truthful sight, you find my innerfreak.
Without my jacket, hat and gold,
I believe it’s you that is all I hold.
Without my gizmos, wand and magic.
I believe you’ll witness my tragic.
Oh...but baby, it’s your Carnival!
Nevermind the acid rainfall.
It’s just my own catastrophe,
Just don’t ever......leave...
You don’t know it, but I’m your man,
It’s a quite simple slight of hand.
I’ve stolen your heart,
Formed our future, our soon to be art.
Breathe in the fumes of my hell,
No worries! In Carnival, all goes well!
Just breathe in my fumes,
Your dreams are no longer dooms.
It’s just a Carnival, just our Carnival.
Clown town, and the mirror hall.
In this Carnival, it’s our last dance,
Oh dear, never break this trance.
Mar 28, 2018
Mar 28, 2018 at 9:36 AM 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
You ever think about how shallow some people are?
So shallow that if you stepped in a puddle of them your feet would still be dry
The people who aim to do things, maybe even great things just to impress or gratify someone
To put someone down
To make up for some kind of weakness
To prove others wrong
Those who create this image of themselves that appeases others perception of them
Money
Material things
Cars
Planes
Designer clothes
Gizmos and gadgets
Things that don't mean anything more than a look see to anyone of real depth
You know depth?
To appreciate everything you're lucky enough to have or gain
To understand the little things and the bigger picture
To have been through hardships and learned from them
Empathy
Patience
Passion
Creativity
Selflessness
Respect
Depth
But then, there is something worse than being shallow
Hollow
To be empty of anything
No desires
No pleasure
Just numb hopelessness
The ones who have been hurt and just couldn't get back up
And fill the void with either drugs, things of only monetary value or self-inflected lashings of pity, loathing and mistrust
They look at the ones with depth and see them as idiotic idealists with no direction or any idea what it means to be part of a normal society
They look at the shallow ones and see great figures of wealthy stature
Exciting lives being lead by beautiful elitists
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 1:06 AM UTC
My eyes are roving, clever and playful
In the tensest moments I don’t lose my cool
From my fingers the bullets fly
I dive deep and jump from the sky.
I do hide behind occasional beard
I want my martinis shaken not stirred
My mantra is only one word ‘win’
The only car I ride is Aston martin.
My name turns my enemies morose
They’re pinned down by my gizmos.
Women just madly fall for me
Clad skimpily in alluring bikini
Chiseled figures slim and tall
I choose the good but go for all.
I am pressed for time so much
I can’t do without my omega watch
Though I’m not stuck in a brand or two
Rolex and Seikos will also do.
I feel instead of lengthening the list
It’s time for me to clear up the mist
A suave smart and fearless guy
I also happen to be a timeless spy.
I play with the villains dangerous games
Love to be called Bond without James
With me the baddies can never get even
You know the world knows me by 007.
Mar 22, 2013
Mar 22, 2013 at 8:12 AM UTC
The ceiling fan makes a comforting noise
As it whirs gently, with the premonition
That winter is near
She sits up hesitantly, somewhat afraid
That there might be something there
She just woke up from one of those nightmares
She could barely control her breathing
Fear and anxiety painted in her eyes
She's almost used to it, or so she thinks,
Till it happens again
She begins to shake just a bit
Almost subtly
She doesn't want- need- to think
Any more
She switches on another one of those gizmos
Whiles her night away
So she doesn't have to sleep
She doesn't need to go back
To those **** nightmares
A chill runs down her spine
But she turns up the music a little louder
She doesn't dare to cry
Scared of being heard,
Scared of acknowledging
That which lies silent, looming ahead
In the darkness
She doesn't want to because
Once she does, it would be tougher
To tell herself that they
Hardly matter
That they are not premonitions
Of the future
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 10:25 AM UTC
The governments of the world have united,
acting upfront but they’ve really gone underground,
implementing a behind-the-scenes scheme
to defraud the global-people
of their money & sovereignty.
While we battle semantics, terrorist & drugs,
it’s business as usual for the real thugs,
who keep filling our pockets with gizmos
like I-Pods & I-Pads & tablets,
modern technologies
making our life’s simpler,
draining us of our hearts & souls,
forcing us to write about what’s missing
in this universe of abundance,
stolen by the greed-mongers.
I love you kindred spirits,
because you understand
these reasons for such emptiness,
this destruction of sacred spirit.
While others talk about it & do nothing,
you bleed your hearts & write about it,
trying to save a smidgeon of humanity
gone sterile.
You are more true
than any government on Earth,
you are a secret society of scribblers,
telling the truth.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC
Boredom bored some,
but for the rest of us it became a lifestyle.
The rest of us,
who spend so much money and time,
on objects and gizmos...
Just to while away our lives.
And, on comfort!
If we're going to do nothing,
we've at least got to be comfortable
while we do it.
We've gotta work though,
gotta hustle.
The trick is finding that tipping point...
The Grand American Treasure:
To find the least amount of labor,
for the greatest amount of leisure!
So let's climb that ladder
Make money! Get paid!
So we can quickly and painlessly,
whittle away our days.
Apr 15, 2021
Apr 15, 2021 at 2:06 PM UTC
Far below the watermark, it’s really all the same…
A Youth screams in truth—Bloated tongue and footloose—for her father, underwater;
While her mother lifeless too, floats along the Grimy hue, face disguised with ****** blue, down the bank-- about a mile or two…
But these words are all in vain, because it’s really all insane, that
Far Below the watermark, it’s really all the same…
Names next to X’s, Signed by anyone of your nagging Exes, haunt your dreams like shapeless hexes--
Reminding you that to succeed, you need to feed from their luscious Platinum **** which you learn to love by, first, ******* on their feet.
So, climb that money ladder! Gadgets! Gizmos, all galore! Stab this back with small “e-chatter”, and raise your wallet up one soulless person more…
Because these words are all in vain, and it’s really not all insane, that
Levees break, Truths are fake, and X’s, Exes, Fears and Hexes on their own, do write your fate.
So worry not! All your dreams make sure you maim, for
Far Below the watermark, it’s really all the same.
Apr 30, 2010
Apr 30, 2010 at 1:08 AM UTC
Bits and Bobbles
Gizmos and trinkets
Testtubes with creatures
Coming to life with my skill.
Magic and Science
My domains to command
Creating life, Cheating death
Manipulating the very fabric of the Universe.
Dark swirling matter and energy
Bending to my will.
Every thread and wave,
All under my understanding
Yet I pleadge these powers
To the man I love with all my heart.
Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 5:37 AM UTC
A posse of cronies
With button-marked thumbs
Were part of a ring
Of cyberspace chums
With crimson-lined eyes
They played night and day
Till some solemn stranger
Took their machines away
The stranger stole through the dark
Before they, could awake
To tip their technology
Into a lake
The groups sleep-rested eyes
Opened to see
The redundant space
Where gizmos should be
Some shouted, some cried
Some just couldn't speak
They rose from their beds
Confused and knees weak
Once clothed and clean
And breakfast was through
One cry could be heard
'Now what do we do?'
Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 8:30 AM UTC
“Can you hear me?” “Can you hear me?” …. “Come-in”
Boys with “walkie-talkies”, walking and talking, squealing and squawking
The girls were chalking – on the sidewalk
Range, one quarter mile. More over water, the box said
If all you hear is static
Run some wire in your attic
Or tie it to your gutter
“Can you hear me?” You may utter
Copper wire strung on a fence
For Russian signals the pretense
Every beep, buzz and whistle
Was that to do with someone’s missile?
A weather fax for steaming ships, “doodle doodle” sound
Deadly tips!
Vacuum tubes soft-lit for me
RCA, Westinghouse, and GE
Their glow-warm magic casting a spell
A hook set lightly - I could not tell
Gizmos, and gadgets, in crate after crate
Rolled into the business - helped shape my fate
War surplus it was, "truck's in" they would holler
Purchased for two-bits on the dollar
So thank you Dad – the hook you set
grew into a job, my needs were met
A needed change, a needed change
Courtesy, Machinery Exchange
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 4:39 PM UTC
I
I thought that it would last my time –
That children would always read books
There would always be fields and farms
Where whippersnappers would climb
Where they would run and play in brooks
I knew there would be false alarms
II
But I never thought the malaise would spread this far
Kids not knowing what it is to be out in the air
What it means to use their mind and creativity
Just plugged in to their DSs and their Ipads in the car
Kids rooted to sofas, couch potatoes in the chair
Somehow I always thought their innocence would be free
III
There is always another day, just
As there will always be another excuse
Why we cannot go outside to play
Just sit glued to the idiot-box if you must
Passively watch this world of abuse
As our generation becomes stupider day by day
IV
Don’t write a poem or read a new book
Don’t go and sit out in the sun
The malaise is spreading and infecting us all
The crowd is young and beauty, but rooked
Rooked of their youth, it’s done
As they sit and stare at a screen in a stall
V
This really is what Orwell said, 1984
A world of computers and screens
Before I ***** it, the whole boiling will be bricked in
Nobody wants to play chess any more
A logged on generation, logging up through their teens
First cyber slum of Europe, a role it won’t be so hard to win
VI
Facebook, VK, Kikitalk, Instagram – a world that doesn’t exist
Just a world of fast past insubstantiability
Cock-eyed spelling and refute of grammar
And yet we let these kids get on with their imaginary bliss
We buy them the latest gizmos just for pacivity
And when we ask what’s to be done? You stammer
VII
We, the older generation, who knew a world better than this
A world of trees, and parks and streams
A world of old values, an idyllic pastoral
But with all pastoral, a world that can no longer exist
A world that can only reside in our dreams
Today’s world is ‘fast or nothing at all’
VIII
And I feel sorry for those kids, really
They never got to run around with a stick as a gun
They’re just getting angrier, as the malaise takes hold
Manifesting itself through boredom so easily
And then they go out and buy an AK-471
Oh well, most things are never meant, we’re told
IX
It seems, just now,
To be happening all so very fast,
For the first time, somehow
I feel that good values aren’t going to last.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 7:55 AM UTC
My flow conceited cause the ingenious genius
Thinking of the supreme being
I'm undefeated against intermediates
But I rap not at my highest pinnacle
When I'm mentally focused inside my spiritual temple
I'm like a monk an humble individual
Ferociously lyrical
Words are gizmos I use as an sentinel
Against rappers in this dimensional
Magical sword that's an General
Go thru Armies of troops
Flaming an spinning an music shoots
Out when it's swoops thru tissue
The mission is to the top but the training is critical
Rappers need miracles
To beat the god emcee
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 2:49 PM UTC
He says, "Is this a stool?"
Turn it upside down and it is a wastebasket
Now it's a drum
There are no concepts
It is what it does
Anything you can use it for is what it is
A stool can be all these other things as well
Buddhism does not define
If you believe that, you are stuck with an idea
And are clinging onto it for spiritual security
You have a great laugh Alan
There is nothing you can hold onto
So man let go!
If you're enlightened you're like a dumb man
Who has had a wonderful dream
Nirvana means blow out
If you hold your breathe you lose it
Breathe out and you get your breath back
The ultimate reality is Shunyata
You don't meed any gizmos to be in the know
Every teacher of Buddhism is a debunker
He or she does it out of compassion
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
Blood filling the sternum
Of the work horse grown old
The rusty iron of an old train yard
Stagnate pools of ancient prosperity
Fill the scene of yesterday's tomorrow
Instead of futuristic gizmos
Zapping up our daily needs
We worship a silly piece of paper
Watching the ruins around us fade away
Instead of helping one another
Stand from a nasty fall
We fill our pockets with jingling candies
Trying to sweeten our sour lives
Instead of being the beacon of hope
The self proclaimed city on a hill
We watch the struggles around our walls
And laugh at the ones within
A day of reckoning is soon to come
With it we all fade to dust
A rebirth is in store
But it will not bring new life
Only more death and struggle
Because Lady Liberty only holds her torch
Shines upon her own achievements
And leaves others in the dark
Wheezing, she stumbles upon a notebook
Coughing the blood of her own horse
Rusting away like her prosperity
She reads of what she learned a day ago
But forgot for today
She awakes in a cold sweat
Still torch in hand
Will she have learned to shine towards others
Or will she only brighten herself?
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 9:34 PM UTC
flakes in the kitchen, flakes in the kitchen
my fate is holy like religion, old traditions:
live life greedily, follow your ambitions
without the stacks, i got an itching
thousand racks, volume of a bible
the day is black, that is my lifestyle
don't offer me gizmos, i know the skid row
above the earth, you see an airglow
above my head, you watch my hair glow
snow male machiny, breathing airflow
phantom with a whisk, never stop-and-frisk
my birthmark, no risk, twenty yumys in the carpark
when no one sleeps, the crowd dances
i'll be hanging with the focus, grabbin' chances
fountain flavour, the mountain and the savior
brash, blue bunnies burning all my moneys
Sep 11, 2020
Sep 11, 2020 at 7:34 AM UTC
Satellites, perfumes, smartphones and other gizmos
Then they forget the giant stench among them
Dwelling with them and moving with them
A monster with an insatiable appetite
A work of art some would say
It overflows from households and factories
Into works of Philosophy and literature
The sages that attained Nirvana in the midst
Of adulterated syringes and gross excrement
The New Buddha under the Garbage mountain
The Prince among the generations to come
Abounding in dialectical wisdom from distant worlds
Embodied in an era of savage monstrosities
Where heads are pounded with information
And hearts won over by shallow myths
Take me away from the world into excesses
Ungroudning my wretched appetites into sheer freedom
Garbage freedom, serfdom unleashed
A new religion emerges suffocating Ecological gods
Radically excessive backdrops for new sciences
We sing new songs as we ascend into thrash
We thrash and we rejoice for our destiny
The destiny of life over nature’s laws
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 8:37 AM UTC
Dear Dr. Heartthrob,
I’m guessing you did not know
Yesterday I was admitted to emergency
Taken from clinic in a death march
You pretended not to notice my urgency
Guess that all has to do with insurgency
That’s quite all right by me
My seizures are not pretty little features
The drug mishap is likely not to blame
No, they did not call any preachers
Agnostic I am and devoted to creatures
I have a complicated medicine regimen
Which is to be rationalized by conspiring minds
Dr. Eyes That Melt Me is a brilliant young intern
He had gizmos and probe scopes and interesting finds
He knows more specialists dealing in matters of these kinds
We had such intimate talks together
So I hope you're not embarrassed to hear
I’m firing you for lack of bedside manner
Though in fact you were prescriptively dear
My heart is now weak for another I fear
Your Loving Patient,
Poopsy
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 3:57 AM UTC
Time is a tool you can put on the wall or wear it on your wrist,
The past is far behind us,The future doesn't exist.
Whats the time, Its quarter to nine its time to have a bath.
Time is a ruler to measure the day,It doesn't go backwards, only one way,
Watch it go like a merry go round,going so fast like a merry go round.
Time is old like Victorian times,
With cobbles and plague and speaking in rhymes.
A tree that is old has circles inside,
A tree that is older shriveled and died,
A apple thats fresh is ripe to the core,
And i rot over time and im not anymore,
Time can be told by the moon or the sun,
But time flies past when your having fun,
There is a time and place for mucking around,
Like birthdays and camping,
And then what happened in the olden days?
Time got new and got old like history,
Stuff from the past went into a mystery,
A old man died, But look a computer!
Everythings cool, Its the future!
Time is new,The future anew,
And look at all the wonderful things you can do,
With gadgets and gizmos and email addresses,
Look at the time!
Now you see the importance of time,
It helps us make pizzas,
It keeps things in line,
But when did it start,
And when will it stop?
If we run out of time,
Where does it go,
Is time even real,
Does anyone know,
Sunrise,Sunset,Night and Day,
The change of seasons,
The smell of hay,
How time makes your appearance change.
We wont be fine,
Because everyone runs out of time.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC
I just happened to find this Gizmo
In my bottom left hand drawer
Now I take it with me
Everywhere I go
I take it out to play
I take it into work
I spend time with my Gizmo
For all that Gizmo's worth
It changes color often
Like a woman changes moods
So I can wear it with any outfit
On any day I choose
It also hums Broadway tunes
If ever we get bored
He and me tap our feet to disco beats
When dancing is in store
I hear that no two Gizmos
Excatly are the same
If you care to show me yours
I promise to show you mine
Life for me has not been the same
That I can guarantee for sure
Every since I found that Gizmo
In my bottom left hand drawer
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 10:13 AM UTC