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Northern Poet Oct 2017
Why am I so obsessed
With checking my notifications
If no one texts me
It feels like suffocation
That little red dot
Next to my application
It ***** me off
When it won’t work down at the station
I've got a mate who's into spontaneous flirtation
He met a bird on this app
I think she's Croatian
They went on two dates
And then went on vacation
Meanwhile I'm sat at home
Watching babe station
I fell in love once
Then realised it was infatuation  
She said I had no drive
But she had no imagination
When we go out
Theres no conversation
Even Siri
Gives me ******* quotations
My new phone
Is the new sensation
Checking Facebook
My only temptation
I check my phone
Just to know my location
**** it
I’ve had it...
With this nation
"From the Apple in our lives, to the Apple of our eyes."


"From the Apple in our eyes, to the Apple of our lives."
Apple IPhone slogan or idiom/epigram. I suppose it works either way? I am thinking of the day-to-day utility when compared to the personal or family usage. I think it works either way? Feedback on that would be appreciated. -Thanks
Sad Boy Jul 2018
okay imma go to bed now tho!! hope u have a good night

& that was the last time we spoke
I don’t wanna be dramatic, but that night at the *******, my heart broke
Adapted from my iMessage history
Penmann Jun 12
Kids playing, guys chatting, cars running.
There she goes.
An infinite scroll, it could last forever.
Who knows where the data heads?
CIA? China? Pentagon?
Your mom?

Flood of notifications on how pretty you are,
When not on the phone.
Bob B Oct 2018
"They say I shouldn't use my phone
Because it's unsecure.
Anyone who tells me that
Is full of cow manure.
This talk about encryption--
That's a lot of bunk.
The thought of them taking my phone
Puts me in a funk.

"Some in my administration
Say that they foresee
Trouble if foreign spies are really
Listening to me.
Advisers fear that I might share
Secrets, but I say,
That's not easy 'cause I don't under-
Stand them anyway.

"How I love my cell phone
Because I love to tweet!
If they confiscated my phone,
I'd feel incomplete.
Having all my contacts in my
Cell phone really rocks.
I can get advice from all my
People down at Fox.

"I don't want my calls logged.
It really takes some *****
For my Chief of Staff to want to
Monitor my calls.
That's why I prefer to use
My private phone instead.
Who would even want to try
To get inside my head?

"Oh, Hillary's private server?
That's a different story.
Everything she does is in
A different category.
From rules that govern others
I feel I'm exempt.
That has never made my fans
Regard me with contempt.

"So they can't take my iPhone.
That would not be nice.
They say, 'Donald, it's a perfect
Location tracking device.
Spies collect your data
And know each confidant.'
I say, I'm the president,
And I'll do what I want!"

-by Bob B (10-26-18)
Deb Jones May 2018
You were my world
You knew all my secrets
I wrote to you daily
My dreams
My fears
A lot of tears were shed because of you
The conversations you remembered
The photos we shared
My life with you...
The ache in my heart.
You were so **** smart
I dressed you in so many colors
I treated you like a child
I will never again say
"Hey Siri..."
I miss you so much old friend
My sweet iPhone.
v V v Feb 2011
The Catholic church
endorsed the world today
for a dollar ninety nine.


Every iPhone owner!
sinner, saint or stoner!
Come now have your sins forgiven!
forgiven if you spill your guts,
if you just confess,
then watch technology do the rest.
Absolution for you and me!
Send your sins across the sea!
your sins will fly up through the sky
encrypted on waves to reach the almighty,
the Vatican! the Pope!

A man of God appointed by the church
yet is he any different than you and me?
We know he sins the same as us,
the book of Romans says its so,*
and do you really think his tall hat
and flowing dress can make him
any more chosen than us?
Can he really hold back lust?
Will he not eventually turn to dust
Just like the rest of us?
is he really any different than us?

How ironic he receives a royalty from
a symbol of the fallen world,
The Apple
computer company,
payment for our absolution…

...So the world fell
by the fruit of a tree
and now expects to be
redeemed the same way.

The truth is not in a man.
the truth is not in the Apple.
The truth is not in the white smoke rising
from the stacks on Sistine Chapel.
The truth cannot be dried up.
The truth cannot be cured.
the truth is not the Pope's to smoke,
To believe it is absurd.

If you want to know the truth,
the truth is in the blood.
The blood covers everything.

Including what is written here.

*Romans 3:23 Galatians 3:25-26
Galatians 4:17 Hebrews 4:14-16
jane taylor Sep 2016
awakening with the gradual rise
of the subdued heather hued sun
a palpable spectral silence permeated the air

the anticipation of celebration intercepted
by an enveloping phantom black malaise
hiding in obscure shadows

the terror of the twin towers final doom
elucidated quivers of melancholic nuances
rippling through the greying vicinity

my birthday september 11th a tuesday
my night to sing at abravanel hall
with the utah symphony

unable to serenade death
our voices remained indubitably silenced
in hushed wistful reverence

ensuing 9/11s channel somber sentiments
cloaked with annihilation while
dark visions occupy smudged iphone screens

this anniversary i will dissipate despair
transmuting dark despondency
splashing all with lucent petals of delight

i’ll live this day with passionate intensity
and those subsequent with equal ardor
ferociously painting back the light

i will raise my voice with effervescence
and sing in wild abandon
for my precious brothers that were lost

demonstrating devotion through a refusal
to be silenced by fear bestowing honor
with a conspicuous message that love wins

i place many of my poems over my photography
to see the poem/pic combo go to
abecedarian Jan 2018
rite like Dylan/past the point of no return

all my life wanted to rite just once like Dylan.

but too set in the errors of my way to complement/compliment a master of the phrase, the original tunes I hum’em all
plagued and plagiarized and yet pleasing

head the Head over to the refrigerator, arrive in one piece,
but totally not remembering why I came this way,
cause i am way way past the point of no return

Oh yeah oh yeah cool brother Corona light to succor the soul,
while roasting body slow in a lavender bubble bath and it ain’t
even noon and no no room for company, this solo wonder-boy
tripping alone

pay my bills in the bath, winnow the widow-maker reading list,
good ****** on a free sundaey and there ain’t no football to watch and autocorrect authority don’t like ****** it only godded one D, as if He needs two D’s to mess us up better

the Corona doing magic trick disappearing so fast and here i am
certified past the point of return and there ain’t no more beer
in the general vicinity

so now the time to summarize my little darlings;
don’t break beer bottles in the bathroom,
don’t pay your bills in the bathtub when u gots 53.42 in cking,
don’t take your iPhone unsheathed into the same vicinity

all you will be left with is maxed out cc’s,
messes you want
not to tangle with,
brain leavings of a bad poem half write,
it isn’t even bad dylan mimicry
but confirmation you passed the point of no return

and u happy hum
don’t think twice it’s alright
it is all on my cover photo
Ylzm Apr 6
A traffic jam at 2 am?
My work just done, tired I am.
Is misfortune a thing with me?
A fallacy unknown maybe.

Recalled the time iPhone at max,
An accident my old was cracked.
Or day my rags compelled I splurge,
The day some Prada had to surge.

In Dubai, Grab’s copter went down,
With lover, boyfriend’s stuck in town.
Cold ***** camel ride through night,
Paid Bed’uin gold, or wait till light.

My friends all say I’m blessed and rich,
But life with peace I’ll rather switch.
Anna Patricia Sep 2018
I opened the old iPhone I had two years ago and I stumbled upon notes I wrote for her. It happened too long ago which is why I don’t remember if I ever sent any of it.

Reading through them, I remembered how it felt like but not entirely. It’s like knowing how something tastes in your mouth without having the actual thing on your tongue. Looking back, there are parts of me that have not changed. I still believe in changing my ways for that one person, going beyond my threshold in spite of the voices telling me to run away. And still, I also believe in letting go when I know I’m not the person who would make you realize you are better than the ******* you portray yourself to be.

Not too long ago, a friend asked me how I was when I fell in love for the first time. I told her I’m not sure if it really was love that I felt back then. But reading through these notes again, I guess it really was love.

And there it is again; the taste of it without having the very thing. I might have forgotten how it was to be in love. But I have also forgotten how real the pain was. Reading the notes through the voice in my head, I could hear myself breaking. My insides churned, but the sensation didn’t feel complete. So I guess this is how it’s like to remember love that’s no longer there.
Lydia Oct 2018
I’m going to relapse tomorrow.
So I’m going to breathe in this moment where I am not in pain
I am going to touch and feel and understand right now
Because I can,
Right now, for the next few hours, I can be an entire human being

I’m going to relapse tomorrow
You’d think it’d be relieving to get a warning inscribed in your genetics,
Building patterns,
To “prepare”
But I cannot be prepared to open my eyes in the morning and see television static
To get out of bed and leave my arm behind
To fall off the leg that can’t hold my weight anymore

I’m going to relapse tomorrow
All I do is dread the pseudo-pain that creeps in when I can see again
You want to talk about fake?
Talk about nurses blowing veins
Talk about nightmares about hospital gowns
Talk about being afraid to ask for a seat on the subway because your illness isn’t real enough

I’m going to relapse tomorrow because that’s how this goes
This in and out like the ocean got angry again
Like I will never run marathons
You can’t run on a numb ankle
You can’t run on exhaustion and giving up
I can’t run on missed birthday parties

I’m going to relapse tomorrow, and I’m terrified
Because I’ve given up on my body before
Because the rest of the world can touch without pins and needles
The rest of the world runs on people can run constantly
I’ve been rusty since age seven,
I was built like an iphone
Meant to break and be thrown away so you’ll buy a new one

I know that I’m going to relapse tomorrow. I know, I know, I know,
I know.
This is the first time I have ever written about this because it I think that it is completely impossible for me to be okay with it. It refers to my chronic migraines that follow these very predictable patterns.

Please comment :)
28 JUNE 2018 + 26 July 2019

Already late for one hot date,
ONE I left, just locked the door.
Don’t want to see me more.
Passwords all left at home
Can’t turn on my new Iphone
SHE’LL  be ****** sitting alone.
Maybe time I didn’t roam.


Parking meter is down and broke.
Looking for a friend to ****.
Stuck now in the parking lot.
LoonieTwisted in the slot.
Keys left in last nights bar.
Never did get too far.


Walked five miles to get me home.
Patent shoes cracked and worn  
Pants are torn, cursed the day I was born.
Last lady passed, cranked her horn.
My head aches, why do I hurt.
Last time I drink and flirt.
Was tho', a lovely skirt.


There is a knock at the door.
Maybe here, she's a score.
Left her my phone and name.
Said she was in the game.
Oh no, forgot the rent.
Landlord temper really bent.
Says it's time I went.


Guess I always  be this way .
If you like this's a day to play.
Always silly, so they say.
An invitation to write and send me another verse on modern living. !! I’ll add with your credit.
ronnie hunt Dec 2018
‘one medium coffee, plain and simple’ says the man at the counter
he’s the dad of my friend from elementary school
and i’m spilling the coffee and hoping he doesn’t recognize me
and i’m getting flustered
and he’s asking the total and pulling out his iphone
cause you can pay with those things now
and you don’t have to sign the receipt
and i mumbled ‘have one’
and i meant to say ‘have a good one’ and i try to repeat
myself but he’s walking away now
and he’s already through the door and i’m still standing here
trying to get the words right
talking to myself
and i’m sure he probably thinks i’m an idiot
and he’s probably glad his daughter switched friend groups in fifth grade
because she found people who liked musicals more than me
and they sang and danced at recess while i sat and read
and he’s probably glad
yeah he’s probably glad we’re not friends anymore
we’re not friends anymore
Arisa Mar 2
I look up to the moon late at night.
My long legs dangle off a park bench,
Hands gripping onto the edge of the table.

I'm happy there's no old gum stuck underneath.

Erena plays a song from her iphone,
It blared from her speakers like wildfire
Never the less, it suited the mood.

I ask her, what are you playing?
"なんでもない"- "It's nothing."
I shrugged.

We noticed how big the moon was that night.
Big, bright, boisterous.
Showing off its curves,
Spots, blemishes, imperfections.
I wish I was that confident.

I see you.
How does it feel to be watched by so many insecure, lonely people?

Please answer,
Are you as confident as you seem, so high above?

You're just like us.
Recalling a summer night in the park with an old friend of mine. Erena.
Anyone Aug 2018
I guess we were bored,
Or looking for something new.
And there was a party coming up.
Someone's hosting debut.
So we thought we'd ask around,
See what else was to do.
And our **** dealer told us
He sold other things too.
He nicknamed it dizz,
And it sounded quite fun.
So we talked all about it,
Decided to get some.
We all pitched in,
Asked for five or ten pounds.
And went and collected it;
Tin foil bound.
Accompanying us
Was a sober mate.
He said it would be fun
To watch and spectate.
So we unwrapped it,
Crushed it,
Poured it,
And drank it.
The taste was disgusting,
Of abstract chemicals.
But we swallowed it down,
A moment; seminal.
They said twenty minutes,
So we sat and waited.
Our hearts were pumping
Way before eight.
And we went downstairs,
Sat on a sofa,
Biding our time,
Sipping on cola...

And there.
What was that.
A feeling.
It entered the chat.
Some warmth,
No stress.
And then a
Very deep breath
Of fresh air
And emotion.
Like emerging from the bottom
Of a very deep ocean
You had been down for years.
Reggae was playing
At very high volume.
And none wanted staying
Where we were.
So we got up keen,
And started dancing.
One even went on the wet trampoline
And bounced
Up, down,
Up, down,
Could've gone till sundown.
And the sky was gorgeous;
Metallic, steel blue
Mixed with orange and yellow.
It was quite the view.
But time was
Moving on,
So we packed up,
And were almost gone
Before keys jangled,
And the door swung open.
A parent walked in,
And caused a commotion
Of boys rushing out,
Mumbling words and plans.
We left quite abruptly,
And sprinted and ran.
Once round the corner,
We couldn't care less.
Nonchalant as usual,
We enjoyed the success.
And we walked and talked
About pure, utter, *****.
The iPhone X, some girls,
And the absolute banger that would be tonight.
So we strolled around,
The sun on our faces,
Feeling elated.
Going some places.
A recounting of a fond memory of mine.
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