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"ipad" poems
I know you. Sitting behind a screen in your room, Sipping in the shadows of a coffee shop. iPhone, iPad, iAm "Anonymous". The most dangerous word you can be labeled, The most double-edged of weapons- Anonymous. You're never really as untraceable As the cleared browser history says you are, Never as untraceable as the chain of destruction you cause is traceable. You're never really as invisible As the checked box lets you think you are, Never as invisible as the scars you direct a hand to make are visible. One word can't be all that. Anonymous can't be so dangerous. Some clicks on a keyboard can't be so devastating. There's a reason it used to be difficult to avoid responsibility. Because responsibility for your words, for what you cause, Is what allows you to see a few steps ahead. Your signature is what allows you to learn from mistakes, To vow after you've learned the hard way to think before you act. To see that those words have two names attached to them now. The writer, and the subject. Two traceable, visible people. Two hearts beating and breathing, now connected. Anonymous constructs a wall between action and reaction. It robs you of responsibility. Yes, responsibility is a prized possession, there to teach and show. Anonymous allows you to settle. It robs you of the greater person you could become. Yes, your future holds more than this, there beyond the wall of cyber bulling. I hate that I was once Anonymous like you. I hate that I unknowingly controlled the strings Of a self-destructive marionette hand miles away. But I don't hate you. Because I know you. I know you are more than the mistakes you've made behind that screen. I know you are more than Anonymous. So prove it.
0
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 7:13 PM UTC
Dear Anonymous, I know you.
I know you. Sitting behind a screen in your room, Sipping in the shadows of a coffee shop. iPhone, iPad, iAm "Anonymous". The most dangerous word you can be labeled, The most double-edged of weapons- Anonymous. You're never really as untraceable As the cleared browser history says you are, Never as untraceable as the chain of destruction you cause is traceable. You're never really as invisible As the checked box lets you think you are, Never as invisible as the scars you direct a hand to make are visible. One word can't be all that. Anonymous can't be so dangerous. Some clicks on a keyboard can't be so devastating. There's a reason it used to be difficult to avoid responsibility. Because responsibility for your words, for what you cause, Is what allows you to see a few steps ahead. Your signature is what allows you to learn from mistakes, To vow after you've learned the hard way to think before you act. To see that those words have two names attached to them now. The writer, and the subject. Two traceable, visible people. Two hearts beating and breathing, now connected. Anonymous constructs a wall between action and reaction. It robs you of responsibility. Yes, responsibility is a prized possession, there to teach and show. Anonymous allows you to settle. It robs you of the greater person you could become. Yes, your future holds more than this, there beyond the wall of cyber bulling. I hate that I was once Anonymous like you. I hate that I unknowingly controlled the strings Of a self-destructive marionette hand miles away. But I don't hate you. Because I know you. I know you are more than the mistakes you've made behind that screen. I know you are more than Anonymous. So prove it.
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38
I am writing this just to keep sane Stop switching lanes and deal with the pain I’m going to stay same and never give in to shame I don’t see this as a game, what I’m saying is real That’s why you feel every line that I spill Every emotion comes from the notion That we are the panacea for the poison Explosion of our hearts started with the sparks That ignited our greed amidst the dark So now we find ourselves led by the misled Bred like a hoard of cattle waiting to be shred We focus on materials and ignore the cries ‘Cause it’s easier to watch from an iPad, as a baby dies We work, struggle, and beg for a promotion Instead of pouring our hearts into a positive devotion Every person fueled by their own ambition And integrity is at loss on our way to this mission By Vladislav Vagner http://www.poemjunction.net
0
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 3:13 PM UTC
Mission 93
Sutla ang iyong kutis, Ilang inches na heels iPad ang hawak Ayan pa’t naka-Rayban Kahit taglamig – Ganyan dito sa abroad Pasyal dito pasyal doon Higit sa lahat Hindi barya ang sahod. Padala sa Pinas, Lahat ay winaldas Dami pang pasakalye Datong din pala Palaman ng inyong mensahe. Aba’t bida pala si bunso Sa tropa’t sa eskwela Hindi ba’t astig? Pang-party nila’y Siya ang laging taya! Ang binata ko’y Malaki na talaga Kapapanganak lang daw Ng bespren nya Anak, tanong lang ba’t sa handa nila’y Ikaw ang itinoka? Ang ilaw ng tahanan Na siyang aking iniirog Sabay sa uso Nakasisilaw ang alahas Inubos ata ang bawat perlas Buti’t nakaahon pa’t Ayan, kay kumpare pa Siya’y nakakapit! At ang nararapat Na panglamang-tiyan Kulang pa pala Kanyang sinapupunan May bagong buhay Mahal, saan siya nanggaling? Puso ko’y nalurak Ako’y inahas na Pinagsamantalahan pa Akala nila’y ok lang Akala ko’y may babalikan pa Yung totoo, Lata’y hiyang-hiya na Humihikbi ito Makatikim lamang ng barya Wala na ang sahod, Awitin ko’y “Palimos.” (12/2/13 @xirlleelang)
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May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
Ang Pakikipagsapalaran ni Juan Dela Cruz: Abroad Version
iPad, computer, VCR. Television, cell phone, Movie star. Clash of clans, minecraft, COD. Pokemon halo, PVP. Having fun, all day, Disaster strikes. Red bar, 0%, Battery dies.
0
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 10:43 AM UTC
Electronics
Human Observations (the woman pees) if you walk the world with pen and paper or eclectic electronic devices, sure as the sunrise espied, the pen will quick leak when wearing white and so will too the righteous words righteously, thereafter when you can't sleep and you must slam your sweaty fist into pillow know that the pillow is silent thinking, dude, you really ain't got a hope, a prayer fallen asleep in the soaking tub a thousand and one times, ain't never drowned like the warning ones say I will do but only when restless in my rustling no-safety night sleep in my lumpy bed, where I’ve already dream-drowned a million times the woman pees, safe and secure, comforted by the knowledge that we have bathrooms separate, her toilet, man *** free, tho we just finished making sweaty, fluid swapping *** she does not, won't put on makeup in her pj's to take out the garbage, that is why she keeps loverman, so handy, nearby, shamelessly firm, unwavering, good god, great for one "disposable" use per night when you tell your child that you love them, and they do not reply at all, it isn't that they don't love ya back, 'tis only that they haven't learned to love themselves something well that just cannot be taught. the more trinkets I buy her, more she screams stop, but never not once has she said, here, take it back if you don't believe in Faeries and Elusives, try, for then you have a middling chance of getting the missing, disappearing whole sock hiding in her ****** back, intact If must look up the time where your love is currently hiding/residing, then the probability is more than 1.000, that you no longer love her enough, or she, you, not at all you know it is time to shut down, hang up the pen and close the iPad cover, surrender, give up the poetry gig 4 real when you start to prefer an autocorrect suggestion ~ More to follow. someday.
0
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 7:19 PM UTC
Human Observations (the woman pees)
Human Observations (the woman pees) if you walk the world with pen and paper or eclectic electronic devices, sure as the sunrise espied, the pen will quick leak when wearing white and so will too the righteous words righteously, thereafter when you can't sleep and you must slam your sweaty fist into pillow know that the pillow is silent thinking, dude, you really ain't got a hope, a prayer fallen asleep in the soaking tub a thousand and one times, ain't never drowned like the warning ones say I will do but only when restless in my rustling no-safety night sleep in my lumpy bed, where I’ve already dream-drowned a million times the woman pees, safe and secure, comforted by the knowledge that we have bathrooms separate, her toilet, man *** free, tho we just finished making sweaty, fluid swapping *** she does not, won't put on makeup in her pj's to take out the garbage, that is why she keeps loverman, so handy, nearby, shamelessly firm, unwavering, good god, great for one "disposable" use per night when you tell your child that you love them, and they do not reply at all, it isn't that they don't love ya back, 'tis only that they haven't learned to love themselves something well that just cannot be taught. the more trinkets I buy her, more she screams stop, but never not once has she said, here, take it back if you don't believe in Faeries and Elusives, try, for then you have a middling chance of getting the missing, disappearing whole sock hiding in her ****** back, intact If must look up the time where your love is currently hiding/residing, then the probability is more than 1.000, that you no longer love her enough, or she, you, not at all you know it is time to shut down, hang up the pen and close the iPad cover, surrender, give up the poetry gig 4 real when you start to prefer an autocorrect suggestion ~ More to follow. someday.
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83
Are you reading this If you are I know who you are You are next to me Feeling me Feeling the table that we perch You see me You see me tap tap tap You decide to acknowledge the tap tap tap And join in with the tap tap tap On the iPad
0
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
Are you reading
Gotta take a ‘selfie’ before I’m outta bed Mum calls me down for breaky - Open Facebook up instead My sister dobs me in – I tell her to take a hike Quick up load the photo, and hope I getta ‘like’. Gotta take a ‘selfie’, gotta getta ‘like’ Dad says it isn’t healthy, my sister says I’m ‘psych’ Take my Ipad into class, gotta get the high score English teachers raving – But poetry’s a bore She catches me on ‘chat room’ and takes away my phone Beg my friend for last year’s modal, I gotta getta loan. Gotta take a ‘selfie’, gotta getta ‘like’ Dad says I should get healthy- I take a gopro on my bike Grumble to my parents – Life just isn’t fair I haven’t got my Iphone and no one wants to share Mum doesn’t want to hear it, she has no sympathy Just as well there’s X-box, and by Mp3 Gotta take a ‘selfie’, gotta getta ‘like’ Don’t tell me to think healthy, I think my brain’s on strike.
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Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 7:32 PM UTC
'Gotta Take A Selfie' - by Azura Skye
I've seen you in striped white, I've seen you in black wrap-around tops, I've seen you in stilettos, I've seen you in Fitflops. I've seen you in the bluest of days, I've seen you in the rainiest of nights, I've seen you in the face of the sun, I've seen you in the wind-full of kites. I've seen you in the trajectory of life, I've seen you stare at me with care, I've seen you in the droplets of water, I've seen you in every castle in the air. I've seen you dreaming, I've seen you back in reality, I've seen you physically Earthy, I've seen you  emotionally Mars-y, I've seen you sad and jubilant, I've seen you troubled, but kept a smile, I've seen you doubled - in poker, I've seen you gone crazily wild. I've seen you in green-blinking nails, I've seen you return my stutters, I've seen you stand tall - confident, I've seen you slouch - don't matter. I've seen you looking into empty spaces, I've seen you looking into a tasty plate, I've seen you doubt yourself, I've seen you believing in fate. I've seen you in the bakery, I've seen you in a factory, I've seen you in your beauty, I've seen you in your most ball-sy. I've seen you in the bus, I've seen you read, I've seen you pick up a microphone, I've seen you speaking with speed. I've seen you with a newspaper, I've seen you with an iPad, I've seen you with a t-shirt, I've seen you stylishly clad. I've seen you work hard, I've seen you studied irresponsibly, I've seen you proud, I've seen you flicker embarrassingly. I've seen you here, I've seen you there, I've seen you near, I've seen you everywhere. I've seen enough, I've seen you in extremes, I've seen you thorough, I've seen you in teams. I've seen you verily, I've seen you truly, I've seen so much inspiration, I've seen you guilty. I've seen "I've seen" 58 times, I've seen you more than that few. But I would've seen nothing more, If I've seen none of you.
0
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 4:56 AM UTC
I've seen you in the 60s
I've seen you in striped white, I've seen you in black wrap-around tops, I've seen you in stilettos, I've seen you in Fitflops. I've seen you in the bluest of days, I've seen you in the rainiest of nights, I've seen you in the face of the sun, I've seen you in the wind-full of kites. I've seen you in the trajectory of life, I've seen you stare at me with care, I've seen you in the droplets of water, I've seen you in every castle in the air. I've seen you dreaming, I've seen you back in reality, I've seen you physically Earthy, I've seen you  emotionally Mars-y, I've seen you sad and jubilant, I've seen you troubled, but kept a smile, I've seen you doubled - in poker, I've seen you gone crazily wild. I've seen you in green-blinking nails, I've seen you return my stutters, I've seen you stand tall - confident, I've seen you slouch - don't matter. I've seen you looking into empty spaces, I've seen you looking into a tasty plate, I've seen you doubt yourself, I've seen you believing in fate. I've seen you in the bakery, I've seen you in a factory, I've seen you in your beauty, I've seen you in your most ball-sy. I've seen you in the bus, I've seen you read, I've seen you pick up a microphone, I've seen you speaking with speed. I've seen you with a newspaper, I've seen you with an iPad, I've seen you with a t-shirt, I've seen you stylishly clad. I've seen you work hard, I've seen you studied irresponsibly, I've seen you proud, I've seen you flicker embarrassingly. I've seen you here, I've seen you there, I've seen you near, I've seen you everywhere. I've seen enough, I've seen you in extremes, I've seen you thorough, I've seen you in teams. I've seen you verily, I've seen you truly, I've seen so much inspiration, I've seen you guilty. I've seen "I've seen" 58 times, I've seen you more than that few. But I would've seen nothing more, If I've seen none of you.
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60
Sitting in a foggy haze Listening to babble Fiddling with my iPad Reading some poetry Watching my kids Coloring and reading Not thinking about work Contemplating a nap No order no rules Nibbling on sweets "Wrestle" with the wife Watch playoff football Is this utopia? It's Saturday. . . The best day ever.
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Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 3:16 PM UTC
Utopia
I lost it when the storm blew, Wi-Fi, laptop, iPad too. On my kindle, no bars found, Oh lord, the internet is down. My Facebook friends no longer poke, I cannot tweet a single joke. My iTunes offer not a sound, Now the internet is down. I finally fix that broken chair, Clean my room, wash my hair. Then I wander all around, Now the Internet is down. The library’s packed. And the theater too, I need my fix. Can I sit here too? Is Wi-Fi in another town? Now the internet is down. I’ll search the house and find a nook, To finally read that Dan Brown book. My thoughts are clear, my soul unbound, Now the internet is down. I’ll study French. Take up guitar, I’ll search for wisdom, near and far. To internet’s death, I raise my cup, Wait. Never mind. It came back up. :)
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Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 2:01 PM UTC
Digital Apocalypse: The Internet Is Down.
The Sun shines on my computer Creating a protective glare But night comes like an intruder At pictures I begin to stare After I view their portrait online I want to see their body on mine We talk all night Until I see the light That they're not that bright Or that they like to fight Desperation swirls I enter a world Where the randomness of human interaction Meets the randomness of my attraction And the low visibility Endears no civility Will I spend infinity In this digital city? The creatures try to hide They scatter in the distance They're not hard to find When their profiles leave imprints But the parasites are quick And the scavengers stick Vultures fly from iPad to iPhone Leeches try to make my pad their home Devouring me until I'm bad to the bone Like the solicitous predators Who act like creditors And the sly foxes Who claim they're locksmiths They all have claws and fangs They're all just jaws with brains I play possum Until I've lost them When monsters are made from loneliness They try to trick me with phoniness They feel I wouldn't want us to be together And they're probably right Because all I want is to spend forever In love's divine light Nocturnal animals just want the meal Of my motion They don't want to honestly feel My devotion In the wild I am a child The creatures cut deep They make me weep Until I choose to sleep But when I avoid their glance I avoid love's chance
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Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 4:39 AM UTC
Creatures
* ~for Bill T. Jones~ two poets, laureates both, on the nature of hunger, they discourse, in temple, where sacrificing is to living arts I was there, hungry in every aspect, seeking wisdom of the hungering nature of human. examine the word, hunger, hardly a rolling off the tongue mellifluous. you growl it from the gut, in gowned resplendent ugliness, go ahead, try it, it’s coarse and powerful insistent. awoken empty but for the hunger, hungover from dancing words and imagery not mine, now mine, maddeningly demanding my dutiful attentions, as if hunger was the master, me, obedient pupil. the clean white slate the IPad re-presents repeatedly, insulted that I have yet to crayon color it with the coherence of hunger-exhaled words, dismissive that I am but an also-ran, my village of lexical too unsophisticated, the page addressed yet unplanned, Apple white is the color of the starving artist.
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May 26, 2019
May 26, 2019 at 1:44 PM UTC
the hunger for hunger/white the color of starvation
**the banner photograph that the poem references is off now, but... The poem is about a photo I took, outside looking in, where the window and an interior mirror, both reflected me, outside, outwards, but caught the interior of the house within, and the interior of our lives, which was my intent, but the poem came later.... a self portrait, a reflection in a window, in a mirror. a man stick figure within and without. me hidden, armed, iPad spyglass one upon the other, unaware of observation, introspection / extrospection. man, external, grilling striped bass, woman, internal, kitchen caught slicing heirlooms, a dressing awaits, peach salsa, the seagulls inform me. Outdoors, indoors. bay, in the background. living room, kitchen, in the foreground couching, crouching, cooking, a closeup and landscape, of two lives. so the photo treatment, introspection / extrospection, upon reflection, a poem ouside-insight. a moment to reflect upon a reflection of a moment. this  how I see things, and why not you too? Double vision. outside, looking in, inside, looking outward. then, at the point of intersection, a memory recorded, always recording, paths, moments, worthy of note. such a note, here, record of a photograph. preserving my preservation. tho photo blurry, what you see, is what I see. lives of symmetry summer symmetry is my life. life is my summer symmetry. exactly. August 2012
0
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 2:14 PM UTC
Introspection / Extrospection
Next to the iPad, horn rim readers, a book of postage stamps, and a rubber eraser.
0
Jan 3, 2011
Jan 3, 2011 at 6:49 PM UTC
Juxtaposition
iPad Love 4:49 AM, and by the light of the silvery moon and our iPad screens turned down low, we snuggle side by side, our fingers glide so softly upon each, each of our own devices, this technique, it could be an app, teaching how to caress a human being. No need to tell you in sound, out loud, how you turn my heart upside down, I'll just post a note of appreciation on Facebook, you will see it faster, and besides, you got your earphones on and could not hear my sweet nothings if I screamed them in high definition. The newspaper arrives on the electric "doorstep" - no longer will do we venture outside in pink bathrobes and curlers, or boxer shorts, a legal gesture of neighborly disdain. Americana, losing another icon, as well as insuring the unemployment of thousands of newspaper deliverers, boys and girls, on bicycles, their first job, now obsolescent. Your feet, so cozy and warm, touching mine, the sensation, lovely and fine, duly recorded in a poem that on my iPad I scribble, as my typos disappear, out of sight. your ear, I nibble, something you hate and I love, but electronically, it's done with no fuss or muss, and I don't even have to move! Sadly, I can find no app that will bring the warmth of a cup of coffee to my night table, and the gun metal casing of this invention is chilly, but still Steve, with almost God like vision, you brought us closer in ways prior unimagined. So baby, shut it down, turn me on, make me warm for real, glide your now practiced fingertips on my grizzled cheek, whisper a phony "ugh," cause I know, you will read this iPad love poem and cherish us for evermore. Nothing, something, even as thin as my iPad 2(!) will come between us and the holiness, the uniqueness of the human touch. 2011
0
May 27, 2013
May 27, 2013 at 4:30 PM UTC
iPad Love
iPad Love 4:49 AM, and by the light of the silvery moon and our iPad screens turned down low, we snuggle side by side, our fingers glide so softly upon each, each of our own devices, this technique, it could be an app, teaching how to caress a human being. No need to tell you in sound, out loud, how you turn my heart upside down, I'll just post a note of appreciation on Facebook, you will see it faster, and besides, you got your earphones on and could not hear my sweet nothings if I screamed them in high definition. The newspaper arrives on the electric "doorstep" - no longer will do we venture outside in pink bathrobes and curlers, or boxer shorts, a legal gesture of neighborly disdain. Americana, losing another icon, as well as insuring the unemployment of thousands of newspaper deliverers, boys and girls, on bicycles, their first job, now obsolescent. Your feet, so cozy and warm, touching mine, the sensation, lovely and fine, duly recorded in a poem that on my iPad I scribble, as my typos disappear, out of sight. your ear, I nibble, something you hate and I love, but electronically, it's done with no fuss or muss, and I don't even have to move! Sadly, I can find no app that will bring the warmth of a cup of coffee to my night table, and the gun metal casing of this invention is chilly, but still Steve, with almost God like vision, you brought us closer in ways prior unimagined. So baby, shut it down, turn me on, make me warm for real, glide your now practiced fingertips on my grizzled cheek, whisper a phony "ugh," cause I know, you will read this iPad love poem and cherish us for evermore. Nothing, something, even as thin as my iPad 2(!) will come between us and the holiness, the uniqueness of the human touch. 2011
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41
Normally this place is colder than a penguin's **** But Holy Satan, it's steaming right now And I'm sure it's not my cappuccino Or the fact that i'm wearing a hoodie, Must be (it is) the movement of your buttocks Over there on the little wooden stage That nobody uses except for sitting and playing with those lame monster cards. You and your friend, yeah, that one. The girl that was on the table behind mine, sneaking a peek at my iPad as it streamed The Twilight Zone, the episode with the piano That reveals what people hide in their souls **** lucky that isn't here or They'd call the cops on me for Like ****** assault or something), Began twerking randomly when you called her And are still going at it, as if you're telling her lessons, And i'm sitting here pretending to be paying attention To Rod Serling's monologue intro When really i'm looking at that popping shake. Holy Satan! "Control yourself" I think "Oh what's that? I don't remember Having a highlighter marker in my pants. Oh **** that's not it, ******* it." And now you're showing your friend How to seductively move that stomach, This is bad (no, it's perfect), You pulling your shirt up a bit Above the belly button and doing that. And how come i'm the only one here Noticing this (besides your friends at the table). I know the place is mostly empty but It's a small space, it's easy to see this, Yet these idiots are drooling over their New Pokemon game; what the ******* hell? When you've got the greatest show on campus Going on right ******* there! I don't get it. Am I like a perv or something? (Yes). To the girl with the goddess body Twerking all nerdishly and awesome In the coffee shop: Don't stop, ******* it. Holy Satan, Don't ever stop!
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May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
To the girl twerking in the coffee shop
Normally this place is colder than a penguin's **** But Holy Satan, it's steaming right now And I'm sure it's not my cappuccino Or the fact that i'm wearing a hoodie, Must be (it is) the movement of your buttocks Over there on the little wooden stage That nobody uses except for sitting and playing with those lame monster cards. You and your friend, yeah, that one. The girl that was on the table behind mine, sneaking a peek at my iPad as it streamed The Twilight Zone, the episode with the piano That reveals what people hide in their souls **** lucky that isn't here or They'd call the cops on me for Like ****** assault or something), Began twerking randomly when you called her And are still going at it, as if you're telling her lessons, And i'm sitting here pretending to be paying attention To Rod Serling's monologue intro When really i'm looking at that popping shake. Holy Satan! "Control yourself" I think "Oh what's that? I don't remember Having a highlighter marker in my pants. Oh **** that's not it, ******* it." And now you're showing your friend How to seductively move that stomach, This is bad (no, it's perfect), You pulling your shirt up a bit Above the belly button and doing that. And how come i'm the only one here Noticing this (besides your friends at the table). I know the place is mostly empty but It's a small space, it's easy to see this, Yet these idiots are drooling over their New Pokemon game; what the ******* hell? When you've got the greatest show on campus Going on right ******* there! I don't get it. Am I like a perv or something? (Yes). To the girl with the goddess body Twerking all nerdishly and awesome In the coffee shop: Don't stop, ******* it. Holy Satan, Don't ever stop!
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46
i given nothing i abandoned i adopted i dropout i garage i Apple i NeXT i Pixar i Apple i pilfered i i invented i i produced i i market i i retail i i am i i am i i tech beauty i consumer fetish i whom you love i sleekest widgets i Toy Story i Macintosh i macbook i Lisa iTunes iPod iPhone iPad i more i rebel i genius i visionary i entrepreneur i world changer i exceptionalism i capital market hero i bigger then business i cool capitalism i myth i "the man" i worker i employer i boss i thief i savior i billionaire i venerated i vanity i Buddhist i prophet i redeemed i 1 in 300 million i America i sing the pathos i am the creed i define the ethos i Steve Jobs i amassed riches i accolade crowned i ingratiate world i virtue i success i creativity i favored i Midas i bedeviled i tested i afflicted i retire i human i mortal i succumb i eulogized i leave legacy of i i am an MBA case study i employed workers i peddled intrepid product cycles i subject of amusing anecdotes i am heroic corporate folklore i grew pods full of music i incite kids to thumb phones i captivate consumer imagination i built rock solid balance sheet i erected toxic Chinese factories i enriched investors i am the cool corporate brand i inspired a million unused i apps i hipster capitalism i imposed my will i insisted i am that i am i cannot take it with me i leave blue jeans i leave NB sneakers i leave black collarless shirt i will be asked what i did with the time i was given? i did the best i could i played the hand dealt i parlayed it into a royal flush i filled it up with i i ask why i am no more? i leave the world i am no more Godspeed Beloved Steven Paul "Steve" Jobs (February 24, 1955 – October 5, 2011) jbm Oakland 10/6/11
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Nov 4, 2011
Nov 4, 2011 at 10:40 PM UTC
iBook of Jobs
i given nothing i abandoned i adopted i dropout i garage i Apple i NeXT i Pixar i Apple i pilfered i i invented i i produced i i market i i retail i i am i i am i i tech beauty i consumer fetish i whom you love i sleekest widgets i Toy Story i Macintosh i macbook i Lisa iTunes iPod iPhone iPad i more i rebel i genius i visionary i entrepreneur i world changer i exceptionalism i capital market hero i bigger then business i cool capitalism i myth i "the man" i worker i employer i boss i thief i savior i billionaire i venerated i vanity i Buddhist i prophet i redeemed i 1 in 300 million i America i sing the pathos i am the creed i define the ethos i Steve Jobs i amassed riches i accolade crowned i ingratiate world i virtue i success i creativity i favored i Midas i bedeviled i tested i afflicted i retire i human i mortal i succumb i eulogized i leave legacy of i i am an MBA case study i employed workers i peddled intrepid product cycles i subject of amusing anecdotes i am heroic corporate folklore i grew pods full of music i incite kids to thumb phones i captivate consumer imagination i built rock solid balance sheet i erected toxic Chinese factories i enriched investors i am the cool corporate brand i inspired a million unused i apps i hipster capitalism i imposed my will i insisted i am that i am i cannot take it with me i leave blue jeans i leave NB sneakers i leave black collarless shirt i will be asked what i did with the time i was given? i did the best i could i played the hand dealt i parlayed it into a royal flush i filled it up with i i ask why i am no more? i leave the world i am no more Godspeed Beloved Steven Paul "Steve" Jobs (February 24, 1955 – October 5, 2011) jbm Oakland 10/6/11
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113
blueberries gasoline and prostate gland breast cancer Wonderbread and pacifier controlled experiment space travel and honey peanuts inductive reasoning and electricity tornadoes torture chamber and biscuits copyright car radio cantaloupe golden eagle lunch break tomato Romanian songbook rhubarb and barbed wire always hungry nevermind meat loaf goosefoot mango juice Ipad mosquito bite city street and broccoli Chinese cabbage female *** drive water sport pure contralto goat yogurt new year black death white light and green tea
0
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 8:28 PM UTC
blueberries
The Quantum Poetry Theorem from a long time ago, a thousand poems a priori. **Dedicated to you, Albert Einstein and the cast of TBBT, special thanks to the OWS movement., But especially to the few, the brave, geeks who write poetry in word and in equations.** Scruffy, yet ennobled, my own 99% invade and occupy all my senses, in my eyesight encamped sensing opportunity, the 99 demand that each shutter eye snap, all nominal exhalations, every quantum minutia perception, be live streamed, direct tv to you Everything I witness, transformed into an acoustic guitar rocking vision, a levitation of poetic expression,   set to a primitive three-chord rock & roll overture, and my iPad, appointed Recording Secretary, compiles exhalations as ecrivations a preservation society of the verb, strings of words emanating non-stop within my head, from a guitar playing twenty four seven, ironically, expressed mathematically Street strolling, busy brasserie bar, a Pinot Noir arrives, a large pour of stanzas and a napkin upon to scribble mind in ferment but A Capella smooth cool, my bossy brain requires incident reports, a "write me down, please," and no matter how much I drink, ain't anti-matter enough to stop my eyes from seeing every human interaction as a poetic, probabilistic, verbal equation, quantum expressions of sensory upload The brain revels and reels from overload,   no mas, no more, poetry fatigue incurable, caplets and ointments, string theory, can't cure or explain the compulsion I feel, and the 1% of me protests my overtaxed mental capacity, and hear the, see the, masses, the shouts, the placards, outside my home, shut it down, no one cares, no one wants your transplanted mechanics in their eardrums Huzzah, found in my gut, a Grand Unifying Theory to coordinate, gauge  and harmonize my internal asymmetries, yes, a coupling factor required, but still, one equation that explains everything! my fatigued, pointy, index finger refuses to tap any more, my Theory of Everything, and my poetry, forgot, overlooked. in my library buried, black holed, forever silence-stored
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Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 3:48 PM UTC
The Quantum Poetry Theorem
The Quantum Poetry Theorem from a long time ago, a thousand poems a priori. **Dedicated to you, Albert Einstein and the cast of TBBT, special thanks to the OWS movement., But especially to the few, the brave, geeks who write poetry in word and in equations.** Scruffy, yet ennobled, my own 99% invade and occupy all my senses, in my eyesight encamped sensing opportunity, the 99 demand that each shutter eye snap, all nominal exhalations, every quantum minutia perception, be live streamed, direct tv to you Everything I witness, transformed into an acoustic guitar rocking vision, a levitation of poetic expression,   set to a primitive three-chord rock & roll overture, and my iPad, appointed Recording Secretary, compiles exhalations as ecrivations a preservation society of the verb, strings of words emanating non-stop within my head, from a guitar playing twenty four seven, ironically, expressed mathematically Street strolling, busy brasserie bar, a Pinot Noir arrives, a large pour of stanzas and a napkin upon to scribble mind in ferment but A Capella smooth cool, my bossy brain requires incident reports, a "write me down, please," and no matter how much I drink, ain't anti-matter enough to stop my eyes from seeing every human interaction as a poetic, probabilistic, verbal equation, quantum expressions of sensory upload The brain revels and reels from overload,   no mas, no more, poetry fatigue incurable, caplets and ointments, string theory, can't cure or explain the compulsion I feel, and the 1% of me protests my overtaxed mental capacity, and hear the, see the, masses, the shouts, the placards, outside my home, shut it down, no one cares, no one wants your transplanted mechanics in their eardrums Huzzah, found in my gut, a Grand Unifying Theory to coordinate, gauge  and harmonize my internal asymmetries, yes, a coupling factor required, but still, one equation that explains everything! my fatigued, pointy, index finger refuses to tap any more, my Theory of Everything, and my poetry, forgot, overlooked. in my library buried, black holed, forever silence-stored
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79
"wish everyone was loved tonight And somehow stop this endless fight Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days" Better Days by the Goo Goo Dolls <> Yeah yeah. Dating myself. Some reason find myself listening to the GGD, (A less embarrassing initialization) Heard it a thousand times, Classic easy listening rock. A sweet wish, everybody knows, ain't gonna happen> But, In my hand, a -perfecta summer day, Steady sun, genteel sea breeze, low humidity, The insects tolerate a shooing away, go easy and disappear, House empty, everyone doing something and You know where I am, tip~tapping on my iPad, Yup, in that room, where poems are fan circulated, And fall, freely, from the wood ceiling directly Onto screen, my only job, to screen The screen for typoes and other such minor inconveniences There is no time to calculate, No time to measure, no errors to complete that can't be undone, And To mourn, And the Angels have come in silently, The day so fine, their human side, Returns for a sun tan and the heat that heals Burns, wounds, fissures, and even stalling Out the growth of the bad cells our bodies Con~tain; They do not run nor hide,, whispering I am too pessimistic, And the Day will bleed into sunfall, With colors sublime and god designed, And if ever there was an evening That the possibility greatest that tonight Everyone could be loved, Even me, Even you, Even us, The air has harmonies in the air flow, And tonight, will be the time When we all remember with a sly grin. that we commence by loving oneself, And then cell splitting, and saliva sharing, following tears and sweat, and cradling arms will entwine Only Love Poems
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Jul 19, 2025
Jul 19, 2025 at 3:14 PM UTC
wish everyone was loved tonight...
"wish everyone was loved tonight And somehow stop this endless fight Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days" Better Days by the Goo Goo Dolls <> Yeah yeah. Dating myself. Some reason find myself listening to the GGD, (A less embarrassing initialization) Heard it a thousand times, Classic easy listening rock. A sweet wish, everybody knows, ain't gonna happen> But, In my hand, a -perfecta summer day, Steady sun, genteel sea breeze, low humidity, The insects tolerate a shooing away, go easy and disappear, House empty, everyone doing something and You know where I am, tip~tapping on my iPad, Yup, in that room, where poems are fan circulated, And fall, freely, from the wood ceiling directly Onto screen, my only job, to screen The screen for typoes and other such minor inconveniences There is no time to calculate, No time to measure, no errors to complete that can't be undone, And To mourn, And the Angels have come in silently, The day so fine, their human side, Returns for a sun tan and the heat that heals Burns, wounds, fissures, and even stalling Out the growth of the bad cells our bodies Con~tain; They do not run nor hide,, whispering I am too pessimistic, And the Day will bleed into sunfall, With colors sublime and god designed, And if ever there was an evening That the possibility greatest that tonight Everyone could be loved, Even me, Even you, Even us, The air has harmonies in the air flow, And tonight, will be the time When we all remember with a sly grin. that we commence by loving oneself, And then cell splitting, and saliva sharing, following tears and sweat, and cradling arms will entwine Only Love Poems
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50
You are my iPad I turn you on With the flip of your cover You hang on every Word I type You see me clearly With your HD eye When I'm wrong You autocorrect me But I appreciate it You have many Advanced functions I surf your capabilities With a flick of my finger Like come hither You are Entertainment And knowledge You help me smile And laugh When I need it most You are my iPad An escape from the world That's not virtual If your battery fades I will recharge you You are my iPad Now, I don't Remember How I lived Without you
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Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
You are My iPad
Your lapped iPad is the perfect palimpsest, for an intimate exchange, with one of your stylist fingers your lover's words become ostrich heads whenever your husband sallies forth for another can.
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Jan 10, 2011
Jan 10, 2011 at 7:52 PM UTC
Your lapped iPad is the perfect palimpsest
Backed and sponsored by the cabinet Our heads on the server and internet BCI experiments while we're under the duvet Foot-soldiers follow orders on their handset Rockwell is not paranoid They've seen us on the TV, iPad, iPhone, and Android The BCI app that makes us annoyed Please God, destroy that satellite with an android My doctor is like Sigmund Freud Give him the anti psychotic steroid For making money off the unemployed
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Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 9:33 AM UTC
Research Redemption