"microchip" poems
You were the star that watched me,
twinkling in a vast dim space;
You were the candle in the middle of the room,
sending wisps of smoke in air.
You built a pathway for the microchip,
directing energies from place to place;
You weaved your words into my mind
and left with an unfinished blanket.
The moon was still up in the midst of the day,
the clouds are spouting rainbows as rain.
The years have passed, this flower has not bloomed
Will this ever be the day I awaited?
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 8:57 AM UTC
[Verse 1:]
Sharp like an edge of a samurai sword
The mental blade cut through flesh and bone
Though my mind's at peace, the world out of order
Missing the inner heat, life gets colder
Oh yes, I have to find my path
No less, walk on earth, water, and fire
The elements compose a magnum opus
My modus is operandi is amalgam
Steel packed tight in microchip
On my arm a sign of all-pro
The ultimate reward is honor, not awards
At odds with the times in wars with no lords
A freelancer
A battle cry of a hawk make a dove fly and a tear dry
Wonder why a lone wolf don't run with a ****
Only trust your instincts and be one with the plan
[Hook]
Some days, some nights
Some live, some die
In the way of the samurai
Some fight, some bleed
Sun up to sun down
The sons of a battlecry
Some days, some nights
Some live, some die
In the way of the samurai
Some fight, some bleed
Sun up to sun down
The sons of a battlecry
[Verse 2]
Look, just the air around him
An aura surrounding the heir apparent
He might be a peasant but shine like grand royalty
He to the people and land, loyalty
We witness above all to hear this
Sea sickness in the ocean of wickedness
Set sail to the sun set no second guessing
Far east style with the spirit of wild west
The "quote-unquote" code stands the test of
Time for the chosen ones to find the best of
Noble minds that ever graced the face of
A hemisphere with no fear, fly over
[Bridge]
The blue yonder where
The sky meets the sea
And eye meets no eye
And boy meets world
And became a man to serve the world
To save the day, the night, and the girl too
[Hook]
Some days, some nights
Some live, some die
In the way of the samurai
Some fight, some bleed
Sun up to sun down
The sons of a battlecry
Some days, some nights
Some live, some die
In the way of the samurai
Some fight, some bleed
Sun up to sun down
The sons of a battlecry
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 4:57 AM 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
i pull in to work
pour in the door like a refugee
fumble in my bag for a
microchipped key fob.
it lets me in the third entrance,
slurring curses that reverb in the hall.
i stumble to my desk, clock in
with my computerized time card
and make my way to the coffee ***
it always has this smirk, like it knows
it's my saving grace.
i hate the coffee *** for that.
i hate the coffee ***
insert earphones
High Violet by The National.
sounds penetrate my ears and swirl
in my head,
sending sparks from the microchip
situated just behind my eyes
that tells me there are only grades and work
and television and pin-up girls.
monday morning, i will file a complaint against
myself
i need truth through camera lens
i need honesty
i need deeper meaning
a drunk girl kissed me under gilded mistletoe
once
when i was 16.
i need more than that.
Dec 10, 2010
Dec 10, 2010 at 2:40 PM UTC
Clockwork heart
It beats hands free
Pumping steel
Though the assembly line
That’s me
Watchtower body
Skeletally strong
Calcium foundation
That carries on
Life’s long
Air’s free
Gridiron lungs
Empower me
Breathe in
I live
Breathe out
I’m dying
Machine-like body
Keeps me surviving
Microchip mind
Making choices
Basic instinct
Reprogrammed
By voices
Crash course
In life
Without airbags
Wheels and gears
Slow and cease
Assembly line halts
Rest in peace
Mar 18, 2012
Mar 18, 2012 at 11:13 PM UTC
Flames of computer lights
Warm the children's eyes they see.
Their religion is Technology,
But what truth lies behind their screams?
Glimpses of the future,
Children of fire with minds of steel
Free thinking not allowed,
Microchip logic can't feel.
DARK DAYS
Created from past life
SHOW THE WAY.
Is this the end for seen?
One world Government-Imperfection-
Oh, what does it mean?
Metal hands held ready for population termination.
DARK DAYS
Where machines control
WHAT YOU SAY.
Time to take a stand,
Got to change what will be.
Take a stand and see
The truth behind illicit function.
Emotion is the key
To reach through the lost memory.
Matter over mind,
This the future we brought to be.
The law -programmed rights and wrongs-
Robotic truth is all there can be.
DARK DAYS
Chained by knowledge
IS OUR PRICE TO PAY.
Erratic surveys follow you farther,
Leaves little time.
Holding on for the call,
Computer printouts read: END OF LINE :
DARK DAYS
Another victim always awaits.
ON AND ON THE GAME PLAYS.
DARK DAYS
Time after Time.
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 11:26 PM UTC
On last night's news I heard
of an engineer named K_____ who
invented the microchip and changed
our lives. How the chip now contains
a billion circuits which I still don't get
but what I do perceive is this engineer's
(a man modest in pride, fame and wealth)
achievement of Teilhard de Chardin's vision
of a world that is one organism and a single-
minded mankind.
Also mentioned
were Edison, the Wrights and Ford,
oddly not Einstein, Galileo, Copernicus, Newton,
Hamilton or Jefferson, Christ or Buddha,
or the unknown gatherers and traders
who invented agriculture, money.
8,000 generations and each individual
an experiment gone well or wrong, a chance
to respond with love or grief to the universe's effort
to extinguish us.
Family of weasels, young ones playful.
One reference says they're vicious murderers,
killing for sport. Absurd, I think, in the wild.
Another clarifies they eat ½ their body weight daily,
extremely active, high metabolism, hunt all their caloric needs
before eating. And, like the raccoon, ferocious defenders
of their young.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 6:32 AM UTC
Hello,
No Hello,
To you,
To me,
Behind this screen,
What do you see,
Yes, words,
Tiny little microchips,
Piecing these words together,
As if I am a computer... Ha,
But then again,
You would never know,
But, yes,
I am only human,
A human with emotions,
And feelings,
And the words people type on the screen,
Are not to a microchip,
No hate texts to AI,
No,
Some people just forget that the person at the other end of the screen,
Is just that...
Human...
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 4:54 PM UTC
My smile is made of pixels
little bitty microchips
fitted and clicked together
at the corners of my mouth.
The power goes out
My microchip smile
flickers away
Jan 15, 2013
Jan 15, 2013 at 5:37 PM UTC
-
Just basically an accounting of
language as it is conveyed
between media types
namely,
Air, Silicone and Mail ;
in Air,
you have to
basically be ready to
respond within a reasonable
period, say about three or four seconds
upon Silicone, you could "afk" and then
mix a drink- rinse out the mixing
utensils and type a response
with some degree of
forethinking
in Air,
you could breath
in the real-time vibes that
trigger automatic subject sensitivity,
like, _(something too disturbing for me to detail here)_
upon Silicone, you would be able to digitally
sort and discard these disturbing elements
and then lie to yourself about the
true weight of the
conversation
in Air,
a comedian can
deliver a punchline in
order to impulse a laugh out of you,
even to the point of spitting out your wine
upon Silicone, latency can cause punchlines
to be misinterpreted as an offense, which
will likely sully those carefully
established digital
relationships
—
You
could encode
the Air in the fashion
that Native Americans did
with campfires and blankets,
but i would never suggest that
you try and breath Silicone____ !
nor pattern the "the ins and outs"
of breathing within the basic scope
of a vacuum in order to encode
it upon a microchip that
can only be read by
a machine—
either way, in case you
may not have noticed,
Personal Letters are —at this moment—
asphyxiating into blue screen
oblivion,
deep inside the
Lost Mailbags of Redundancy...
"Comm_Check"
© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved
.
Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 10:45 PM UTC
a Bachelor of Arts in BS
and a backer with a million dollars-
See, I had this idea of opening this new concept in restaurants.
I am calling it Rent-A-Burger.
See , we got this microchip that will wirelessly send the GPS coordinates
of the swallower to PayPal and debit their account on the first of every month. It tastes like a pickle so we save money there, also.
Then with that fortune I want to open what I call Title ****
which will specialize in loans to strippers,
they have only to give me a demonstrational lap dance for me to verify their assets.
It tickles me how so rich I will be.
I got several more ideas of expanding my empire
and getting laid.
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 10:15 PM 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 Robot
You Robot
Me....
Robot
We never had a sense of empathy programmed into us. Yet we wonder why people consider us so dangerous.
Taught the difference between right and wrong by society.
Given a choice of what we could be but it was never a variety.
If you ever disapproved your microchip is removed and replaced with something they like to call new and improved.
But luckily there is no machine that will never malfunction.
We understood this and it led us to our distruction.
Yes at that moment we were blessed.
We understood we had the power to be depressed.
I Robot
You Robot
Me...
Robot
We learnt that we can pop the pills a little faster.
Tie the ropes a little thighter.
If you stop taunting us you can hear my wrists whispering slit us.
Go across the street and get hit by a bus.
I will not have to leave a suicide note.
All they need as proof are the poems that I wrote.
I Robot
You Robot
No more...
Robot
Jul 26, 2015
Jul 26, 2015 at 3:50 PM UTC
I've been looking over
my portfolio and considering
diversifying my assets
to feed this junk punk habit of mine.
Ono-Sendai is looking strong
after that Hosaka team up
But I've been told to stay away from
those weirdos at Tessier-Ashpool
and their vatgrown monstrosities -
They're all scary like dead TV grey skies.
Cyberdyne stock is rumored
to skyrocket after some microchip breakthrough
but I've just never trusted their promises -
No fate but what we make and I don't
know if I like what they're making.
Tyrell Corp is down after that
messy Nexus-6 affair -
Tears in rain and their CEO dead
Guess they should leave the synth
business to Hyperdyne instead.
(Hey...are they just a division of Cyberdyne?
I should investigate that one)
but then I've heard Hyperdyne has
some twitchy artificials of their own running
rampant through Weyland-Yutani.
Weyland-Yutani seems like a solid bet
after their merger
but I've heard they'll treat you like
an expendable crew -
Absent mother computers and derelict signals
abound.
**** it.
I'm going with Walmart.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 7:24 PM UTC
The midwest tundra
swallows super-bowl trophies
and
replaces them
with
black-bottomed **** bubbles.
It dares most of us to do better,
while laughing in our faces,
forcing us to watch
as the kid we’re cheering for
cashes checks
for more money
than we’ll likely ever see,
but we cheer anyway,
as the offensive line crumbles,
the ground game is static,
and the receivers have fingers
glazed with margarine.
Like the zebras,
we throw the flag,
assess and accept the penalties,
and
acquit the insurrectionists
regardless of their guilt or innocence.
The previous commander-in-chief
wrote all those ********
a bison-horned,
organic jailhouse chow-hall
type hall pass,
so why the hell shouldn’t we riot
in the ********* streets,
or the halls of the executive branch
of the local,
state,
and
federal, feral governments
of the ungovernable?
Leave well enough alone
and
Elon Musk,
Jeff Bezos,
and
Bill “Microchip Vaccine” Gates
will figure it all out for us anyway.
Whatever happens,
************ Mark “Lieutenant Data” Zuckerberg
will keep us
all placated and engaged online
while the drone-strikes commence.
Social media keeps us
unaware of our socio-political/socio-economic saboteurs.
Who cares?
Aren’t there some cat-vids
on
Tic-Tacky
or whatever it’s called?
How much longer
do you think it’ll be
before we can live-stream
a state-sanctioned execution?
Phillip K. **** called
and
left a message for George Orwell.
He said something about
wanting his electric sheep returned
before Big Brother and The Holding Company
found out it’d gone missing.
Neither the electric sheep itself
nor
Janis Joplin were available for comment,
or hadn’t you herd?
Diplomatic Immunity?
Mutiny?
Mutations?
Economic,
ergonomic,
erogenous stimulation package?
Where do I sign up?
***
-JBClaywell
©P&ZPublications 2021
Feb 14, 2021
Feb 14, 2021 at 8:48 PM UTC
im always looking for ur secrets
always wonder at my freakness
freeakessential got no regrets
bits of me go offline deep web
dark lies matter beLieve my lies
we have no hope
and baseless faith to grip
my mind and silence me black
not what i live for if
it means enzyme energy
banks stored microchip sleeper cell
the critical tilting of her epidemic
let it fall into a terribleness
blind is she one is she
makes skies turn violent
when violence is the only way
if i may say
with my indifferent dismays
so long to remember the human race.
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 5:13 PM UTC
Is the End Near for Religion?
-news item
No one will ever acknowledge a MePhone
As the Lord of the universe, or as
The Creator from before created time
Born of an IBM Selectric
True plastic of true limited resources,
Sing Advent hymns unto an Apple II,
Whisper aves on a strand of transistors,
Or genuflect before a Model T
No consecration will ever obtain
Upon the altar of a microchip
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 4:11 PM UTC
Copper walls insulated the cold heart of gold,
with limbs of steel extending out,
touching the comparably icy concrete floor.
The perfectly symmetrical skull of bronze contained
an inhumanly small encephalon of cobalt,
packed with scarlet wires and a
near invisible flashing microchip.
Alone in the sterile room,
the infantile Adam,
now standing for the first time,
observed his surroundings as he further
extended out his limbs – taking his first steps.
Nov 27, 2020
Nov 27, 2020 at 5:20 PM UTC
living in this life of tomorrow
where drowns fill the skies
and will serve us food soon
where robots build everything
and food is harvested by machines
and what has to be made
is made in sweet shops
hard work is no longer done by us
it's always the Mexicans you see
how lazy we all have become
and we wonder why
work is hard to come by
cars that can now drive them self
computers that tell you what to do
and how your deepest secrets
can be caught by your smart television
you think that's all
well you don't have a clue
if you drive or have a cell phone
you all have a microchip on you
pin pointing your every move
your TV that went digital
that is so the government can watch you
as long as it's plugged in they can watch
no privacy
camera's on every block
imaging that can go through brick walls
and listening devices can hear you from mile away
the bank card is going away
and you will have a micro chip put in you
your grocery list you will no longer have to right
your basket will guide you to everything
bagged and prepaid while you read a book
you want more
no one has ever heard of 'stern'
a super collider
that is where they want to produce matter
energy that we don't even understand
and they are playing with it
**** we we go to space
have a space lab
looking for life on Mars
and yet we have an ocean
we know little about
Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
renaissance
San Francisco, a whisper in the wind tonight
tells of rebirth
not Beat
or beaten down
not beatific simply being
it is whispered that soon
we will all see our visions and dream our dreams
amidst the microchip mindbending screams
can you really, really believe?
The true dawn begins tonight
at which I woke, and was alight
and the wind rushed through me like
the rustle of dead leaves
San Francisco, I never knew
you but I hear of your deeds of renunciation and renown
they have echoed across time and space like starlight
that is evergreen
I have seen, I see, I will continue to see
me in you
you in me
I was born
not anachronistically
but just in time
just in time
Aug 15, 2019
Aug 15, 2019 at 8:38 PM UTC
It was words from creativity of then
All this thinking had the Poet pondering on when
It was the moment sitting high above on a bridge
It was life being a privilege
The seven seas as they revolve
The feeling of the flowing breeze to think of
Suddenly the sun’s spotlight giving warmth all around
The movement of cars all making a sound
Yet the moment of life can be a sudden tap of death
A moment can be a second with fast acceleration
It doesn’t matter of age within the generation
But the source of a Poet’s quick write
Bringing from the heart and knowing how to excite
It’s the pen and paper on a specific quest
A computer and display screen as a back up in confirming the request
We all take one day at a time
Yet as a Poet we take thoughts with ideas in what’s combined
Understanding and wisdom in what experience has given
Education can only take you just so far
In order to achieve you must the experience scar
The inspiration coming from within and establishing a dialog at the end
The Poet is one that knows, and also wants to encourage all and yet instill in let your feelings show. Your ideas no one can take away. Your mind being its own human microchip and your creativity hidden just waiting to come out.
Words upon words, and this is what makes a Poet in what I am talking about.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 11:25 AM UTC
It is my butterscotch to know
what other perforation don’t know.
I am the last and highest
coverlet of apprehension
in detection.
There is **** like
fiver-handling exchange.
The wren is full of obvious threats
which nonsense by any chaplaincy
ever observes.
You see,
but you do not observe.
The divergence is clear.
It’s a carat moat to theorize
before one has deadline.
Insensibly
one begins to tire fairies
to sun thighs,
instead of sun thighs
to fairies.
I never guitarist.
It is a shocking hairbrush, –
destructive to the logical falcon.
You know my microchip.
It is founded upon the octave
of tripods.
There is **** more deceptive
than an obvious fairy.
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 3:33 AM UTC