"microsoft" poems
I live in the birth of Nintendo vs Sony vs Sega
Trying to beat that high score in the Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat
Combat with a K
That innovative ****
I survived the destruction of Sega Dreamcast
As they became third party
And Microsoft took their place with Xbox and Ninja Gaiden
Alive from that old arcade
I live in the awing of the interactive Wii
And internet friendly Playstation 3
I also live in the original Mario Bros and Pac Man and...
Terminator vs. Robo-Cop
Yea
I bet you don't remember that one
Or Galaga or Excitebike
Or even that good old
Asteroid, space dodging, alien blasting
Spacce Invaders!
Yea, I'm from Nintendoland
No... Segaworld
Nah... Sony City
Nu uhn... Microsoft...
Can't even think of a place for that
I am from that video gamer nation
That fight, hack, slash, race, create, explore, role-play
Even play those insane sports
See I'm from that...
See, I am from that...
I am from that
Video gamer heaven descended
That has that powerful curiosity and love for that
Space Invaders!
No
That love for all video games
And that memory of the ****** game graveyard
Where E.T. now resides...
See, I'm part of the new gen
Trying to play Street Fighter 4, Final Fantasy XIII, Star Ocean
Saying "I go harder than you young bloods cause I played
Space Invaders!"
So, what era am I from?
I'm from the era of all gamers
Playing Space Invaders
Space Invaders!
I'm from the
"Game of the Year goes to..."
Mario, Tekken, Metal Slug
Namco, Sega, Bandai, Konami
All those companies that started as something else
But realized their calling was for our nation
Cause you see
I'm from that
Old school Nintendo
New School Wii
Old school Playstation
New school PS3
Old school Sega
New school Microsoft 360
I'm from a legacy that always succeeds in giving us dreams
That always seem to revert back to that
Old school
Asteroid, space dodging, alien blasting
Space Invaders!!!!!
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC
So the day I say I'm done,and finished with it all..
Was the same day that the house of cards I built began to fall,
Karma huffed and puffed and blew it all away,
Whether i deserved it or not? well its hard to say,
I need to take it easy but im living life the harder way ,
Living life day to day - there's gotta be a better way,
Love Drunk from the potions from Amy's wine house ,
I sobered up but it was only to find out -
Your lion-like roars turned to Microsoft words,
I was in my own word - she was in hers,
No, I'm not modest and dishonesty's a problem for my nerves,
Approach the point of no return? We def on the verge,
Better yet the brink, and to think, our past you rubbed away -
Washed down the metaphorical sink,
And now all sounds of trouble power point to YOU,
My mind is now tainted, as you are in my point of view,
I'd hate to break the glue we used to make the news,
But i have to go away from you - Later boo..
Dec 15, 2023
Dec 15, 2023 at 2:37 PM UTC
I'm so tired of scammers!
There are so many around!
For every situation,
A scammer is to be found.
There's the email message
From a "friend" stuck overseas
Whose money has been stolen--
Who needs your help, please.
Have you received the phone call
Saying that you're in big trouble
With the I.R.S. and insisting
That you must pay on the double?
Computer hackers will take
Your PC hostage and say
That you'll lose ALL your computer
Data unless you pay.
What about being a winner
Of a contest? All you must do
Is forward them some money
And they'll send the "winnings" to you.
If you by chance get a call
From "Microsoft" or "Dell"
Saying your account's in danger,
Tell them to go to hell.
Scamming probably reaches
Far back into history.
The demise of the Neanderthals
Might not have been a mystery.
Did early **** sapiens
With carefully planned persistence
Scam neanderthalensis
Out of its earthly existence?
If scammers had put their know-how
In a positive direction,
We could say, "Three cheers
For natural selection!"
But, no, we're stuck with scammers--
A problem that clearly shows
That if we want to survive,
We've got to be on our toes!
- by Bob B
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 8:16 AM UTC
While yes, I have a résumé
It does no justice describing mé
So I'll leave this here for all to see
All I ask is please hire me
I'm great with sales
and communication
I can create tales
with no hesitation
Been fixing PCs since '99
Right after I broke all of mine
I don't do drugs
I don't cause fights
I won't give shrugs
to new insights
I can Photoshop best selling ads
and tell corny jokes just like most dads
I write HTML
and CSS
I can kinda spell
At least try my best
Started my first business in 5th grade
Profiting from the paper airplane trade
I'm a fast learner,
a problem solver,
a trust earner,
an idea causer,
a spreadsheet slayer,
a real team player
While I'm no photography guru
I've actually had a paid gig or two
Dove into video editing
way back when MySpace was a thing
Oh yeah. Plus I'm proficient with Microsoft Office.
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 2:17 AM UTC
Author: Kristen Stevens
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Current mood:outside the loop
And yes I know that's a plagiarization (real word??? no matter) of a stupid show...but you shouldn't watch it anyway so there.
ME! Last week, as you may have heard was not of the fun, so this week in comparison rocked! And, yes, I am going to end every sentence with exclamations! (it's for the sarcastic effect don't panic) As such I’m going to let YOU write my entry…you’ll see.
Once upon a time there was a ______ (adj.) girl. She loved her xbox very much. One day an evil ________(noun) descended on the precious object and smote it with the fury of _______(name of a god). The girl ___________(verb) for many minutes staring at the remains of her once beloved box. She promptly went to the other, less amusing, magic box and asked for _______(noun). She____________(adv.) navigated her way through treacherous and distracting destinations. As she approached the official site, a most ___________(adj.) thing occurred. The destination was ________(noun). Much like the construction in her hamlet, it prevented her from registering her distress. Days _______(noun) slowly, with still no relief for ________(pronoun). What’s a girl to do when ________(frustrating situation)? In her profession the customers would not appreciate it if she came after them with___________(weapon of choice from popular video game).
It had been one week, since the demise of _______(object). She no longer was _______(emotion). The days were literally ________(color). Rain fell _______(verb ending in –ing) the streets. There was still no reply from the xbox deity. Thus ends the tale of piteous woe.
This girl has been considering swearing fealty to another more worthy gaming god! There are three systems and I own two of them! Don’t make me get the third! This is a threat! (not you guys, the __________{insert favorite utterance} at Microsoft) goes away quietly muttering to self unkind and unpleasant things that should be done to xbox distributors
By the way, how was that I figure, if you’re going to take the time to read it. I should give you something fun to do at the same time. Who doesn’t like madlibs? Huh?
Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 8:23 AM UTC
Gates climb
News and paraphernalia
Modern communication
Internet on vacation
Today, rural Australia
Goes awol in valleys, hills
As seeking when hiding
Frustration biding
Trees, various pitfalls
An Insufficient population
Say Cannot build towers
Excuses bely hours
Trying, for connection
Work with what's known
Try cavalier solutions
It's the execution
When, creativity shown
First try computer waving
Above head I'm shaking
Signal not taking
Despite, the swaying
Next option lying on floor
Hint of access, fleeting
Patchy greeting
So slow, won't store
Then stand on top of bed
Try to reach high ceiling
Wobbly feeling
Response, still lead
Despite heat, go outside
The temperature violent
Connection silent
If Home far, just beside
Time past, similarly stung
Found access best rate
The paddock gate
Balancing, top rung
Troop to gate hopes keen
As Searing heat, metal
Stand and settle
Tightly, cradle machine
Process long, time lost
A Connection success
Finally access
But who, counts cost?
Eventually, its loaded mail
As Balancing hold keen
Humorous scene
As Sway, in light pale
Internet access by Gates
Not Bill, Steve, Microsoft
Hung steel aloft
So basic, surely debates
Climbing for a signal now
Is the practical response
Sadly ensconced
As Rural, area know how
But surely it must be time
When access essential
Internet critical
Yet today, gates climb
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
Islamist Extremists. Boat Capsized.
Obama and Nelson Mandela. Celebrity Lies.
Plane Crash. Forest Fires.
Missing Girl. Handgun-buyers.
Amazon Lawsuit. ANT-MAN. Low Supplies!
Walmart Empty Shelves. Chinese Food Scandal.
Microsoft Layoffs. Heat and Gasoline. Oil.
Mad Max! Comic Book Convention Drama.
Breast Lumps and Swelling.
Television. Veteran's Hospitals.
Israel and Gaza Fight On.
Beachgoers Hit by Lightning.
Baseball Drinking Songs.
Sci-fi, Wi-fi, Ebola, and Libya.
Ukraine. Venezuela. Marriage. Liver failure.
Allen Webster. USA. RACE CARS.
Global Catastrophe Down to Warming of the Earth.
Dinosaurs Had Feathers. MH17. Profits.
Desert Bakery. Syria. We Must be Mad.
Philippines: 100 Million People on an Island.
Salmonella Lawsuit. Cheeseburger Diet.
Twinkies Never Going Bad.
Putin, Palin, and the Tour de France.
Fracking. Cats and Dogs.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
Let me apologize to begin with
For the way I have to say this to you
Instant and digital with the flawless
12 point form in a unison moment
All these words flow like lies from a child
And flawed, a 1984 Brave New World
Jacked in and online, I swear to God
Microsoft is a virus in my veins and the
Side-effects leave me nauseated and yet
Comforted with the connection I feel
With everyone under this epidemic
And Mac is a twisted strain of my particular
Insanity. Glossy and chic in my pocket, on the go,
Steve Jobs is the ancestor of Doctor Wily
Making *** some bandwagon that needs jumping
Like SkyNet will make me safer, I’ve heard it before
I wish this paper was yellow and crackling
With the orange firelight it was written under
On a sofa, pipe in hand, with the Raven tapping
Melodramatic to the point of genius
Rather then the cliché that emotion has somehow become
And abbreviations become acronyms and symbols
Who has killed the fair maiden of language?
Beautifully laid and strung, pearls upon my page
Folded into my pockets and on the margins of reality
Like a child unwilling to wait to show his parents
The words escape and flee and I panic, pen trembling
Mind to tongue to hand and nerves in the ink
Like meter and scheme trying to restrain this infinite
Strand of DNA that is the flawless combinations of letters
And letters! Curved like a woman tempting and pleasing
To round my pen and finding sanity in the corners and points
Or the cursive dribble of calligraphic art practiced endlessly
By the scholars, monks, orphans, or even the X of a slave
Bearing his mark, leaving himself branded on the page
But I most apologize, I will get carried away
And that is not the way Times New Romans likes it
Mar 15, 2011
Mar 15, 2011 at 7:23 PM UTC
On the massive Shoulders of Microsoft
are...
Children's games
Search for names
Weather reports
Scores for Sports
Travel news
Rythmn & Blues
Hotel prices
Adult Devices
Chinese Quisine
Night Scene
Machine Screw's
High Heeled Shoes
Butter Knife
Future Wife
Candy Crush
Makeup Blush
Family Tree
Spending Spree
Natural Pearls
Web Cam Girls
Rental Hall
Disco *****
Dance Clubs
Irish Pubs
Paternity Tests
Financial Invests
Mortgage Brokers
On Line Poker
and, so much more.....JMF 2/21/15
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
*Smart phone paranoia, contagious at best
Has the zombies a stumbling the streets without rest
Transfixed to their cellphones, oblivious to all
By the lure of the Tweet and the Facebook’s enthrall
It’s ironically depressing that with all of this spin
When you download the Apps…the Devil walks in.
They access your contacts, Your banking, your loans
Your credit card details, unravel your phones,
Delve into your Facebook and spy on your life,
Check back through your history and peek at the wife.
They sell all your secrets to bidders galore
And when you go bankrupt… they’ll show you the door.
It’s “Caveat Emptor” or Buyer Beware
‘Cos technology’s clawed onto us by the hair,
It’s the Devil you do or the Devil you don’t
It’s progress with the crowd or resist and you won’t
Compulsion is growing by systems in place
By government, banking and big business pace
Through Google and Apple and Microsoft sway
The data is mined and the marketeer’s pay.
Tomorrow is here and we don’t have a choice
Ya live without Smartphone…ya won’t have a voice.
And the dragnet for data accessed by the Apps
And the sensors and whereabouts GPS tracks,
With the malware evolving to beauteous height
Means ya privacy’s shot and ya turn out the light.*
PS: Beneficium accipere liberatum est vendere
(To accept a favour…is to sell one’s freedom!)
Marshalg
Waiting for it all to come back and bite me on the ****
Pukehana
AUCKLAND
21 February 2014
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 4:44 PM UTC
I'm studying real poets.
Shelley, Sandburg,
Frost, and Wordsworth.
Coleridge, Blake,
and William Butler Yeats.
Do you know why they're
considered real poets?
Because they made art,
not hashtag trends.
Wrote from Experience
with black quill pens.
Sure, they got high,
but wrote on instinct.
And The Road Not Taken doesn't
mean what you think.
They wrote about about life
and the world that they heard,
not ******* in the margins
of Microsoft Word.
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
You make me worry about losing my memory.
Because right now I've reached a stage where I've forgotten to forget you,
so if I really did lose my memory I wouldn't just be losing my identity,
but also you.
And the problem is, I can live without knowing myself,
but wouldn't survive a second without knowing you.
You make me want to write poems.
My fingers crave to type endlessly until I've written more words than
the bible and the encyclopaedias A-Z combined into infinity,
but my brain numbs.
I'm bilingual but thinking of you makes me inarticulate in both, and
fluent in clichés instead.
You make me feel like a 16 year old...scrap that, a 14 year old,
falling in love for the first time, and I'm neither.
Lately I've been spending a lifetime editing photos of you and me,
on Microsoft Paint, adding hearts and stars and lipstick marks.
And tagging you in every quote, video, song and photo on facebook,
provided they have a remote connection to something romantic.
You make me want to break Pastor Aeternus ,
after 12 years of Sunday school, as a student and a teacher.
I want to travel between Testaments, arguing with prophets and saints,
trying to explain how you make me feel, crave, arouse.
Because each time we meet, even before we speak, or touch,
the demon within me is awaken, beholding the paradise in your eyes.
You make me want to ****** you, even after 4 months,
and 3 weeks, of a solid relationship.
To wear make-up and high heels, to dress up or down or... not,
provoking, tempting and coaxing to take a bite out of the same apple,
but deeper, tying you to the bed and taking you in a kitchen, just
to see that pure expression of bliss on your face.
You make me search the depth of my soul, the bottom of my heart and
every corner of my mind, for more love to give you, everyday.
Paint the future in any colour, shape or form, and when you're done,
place me in it, because I will always fit right in, just like when we spoon.
Someday, when we're standing next to God I will ask him to show you
the timeline, when he sent you from heaven into my life, because
only an Angel could make this fragile heart, fall in love again.
Apr 7, 2012
Apr 7, 2012 at 9:05 PM UTC
Some dreams are significant
Some dreams are just fantasies
Some dreams are useless
Some dreams are idiotic
Dreams can make you unique
Dreams can be your drive
Dreams can help you develop a vision
Dreams can make you a dynamic person
We all dream so you are not unique
You can sing and you dream to be star,
You are smart and you dream to work at Microsoft,
You have access to money and want to open another Google,
guess what???
You are not unique.
You must resist and transform structures
You must claim responsibility
You must produce knowledge
You must move through space and cause disruptions
You must affect people by induction
If you become normal then you don't exist
To exist there must be exceptionalism
The normal have no history
The normal have no memory
You are nothing...
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 12:07 AM UTC
Type it out you ******* this could be
The last one
For a little while.
I made a promise with myself
Or whoever that shady character is,
Outside
On the deck with me
The one who
Makes fun of me
Delete words as I puke this
Poem?
Out.
Its best that me and this keyboard become friends
My anger towards, understand and accepting
What is proper type,
Or am I the proper type
Of guy who wants Vegas
And EDM
And MDMA
in My life
So writing
Or typing
Whatever
Which one
Of me
Wants to deem it
for only when I dream
It, cheap rhyme,
I want my style to be my own
And I want my intoxicated
Meaningful
Ramblings to be a
Part of it
A part of the
Bigger picture.
I will only type **** like this when i am not sober.
Sober sure is funny
And not just a funny word
Smiley face emoticon
Emoticon is not
a typo
....
Dear lord, oh god oh mighty,
Blasphemy that I would
Even start
Talkin' about
galaxies and universes
outside of this one
Puke some more
As I delete and pull
Words
From
One
Line
To the
Next
Without
Giving a
****
That my
Microsoft word
Capitalizes
Every text
My little brother text (texted?)
Me tonight and said
"Get more ink
For the typewriter"
.
Aside for my desire to ramble on about
Getting more ink
The 16 year ol’ champ
Is right
My biggest dreams at this moment
Are childlike
If that’s a good thing…
Then my 6 year game plan
From this day is in jeopardy.
Autocorrect me more
Higher intelligence
And answer me question’s
The one’s that Christan’s
Don’t need answerin’
Have you ever been introduced to a
16 year old ****
A 16 year ol’ ****
Honestly, I had my eyes locked
On – one
Tonight
And I don’t know so much if
I was looking
But maybe I was recognizing
Recognizing a certain
Level of respect that I had
For her
That she didn’t have for herself
She ****** off my best friends brother to get her backpack back tonight
In front of car headlights
And I have always wanted to type
Backpack back
My entire life.
Put your backpack on buddy,
And walk away from this
Poem?
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 5:33 AM UTC
Microsoft "WURD"
slang font.
i know your type.
you like Arial.
you dig Arial Black cause there's no Arial White.
she wears a size 0.
invisible to the eye.
she's from Georgia.
print her out on white paper.
she'll be prettier than Courier New Times New Roman.
her Impact on Felix Titling will be extravagant.
she'll put him under a spell with her Book Antiqua.
you'll give up on her and take a train through the Terminal towards Tahoma in the "Golden State"
you'll come across Verdana who is a size 12.
bold as you are, you'll ask why she tries to underline her beauty by showing off her colon(:) .
and you ask her why women are always cranky before they get their period (.) ?
[arial, arial black, georgia, courier new, times new roman, impact, felix tilting, book antiqua, terminal, tahoma, verdana=different fonts]
May 28, 2010
May 28, 2010 at 1:14 PM UTC
I can only write on the computer.
And I suppose that that’s not really the right thing to say, because people are going to say that I really am part of the next generation who survives solely by technology.
I really do try to write on paper, but I can only use pen because pencil smudges too easily and the end gets so dull,
So when people say that they can’t send me a link to one of their favorite poems because it’s on paper, my respect for them goes up by about sixty percent.
The part of writing on paper that scares me the most,
the part of speaking in real life that scares me the most
is that I can’t delete words.
On Microsoft Word, I can go back and add words into the middle of my poem, I can look at it as a whole and as a half and everywhere in between,
I can delete half of it and forget about, and that half will be lost forever.
But the way my fingers sometimes stick to the keyboard reminds me, I think, that the words that I’ve deleted stick with me forever, no matter how lost they are.
They’re not in some vast, infinite vacuum of the internet-
but stuck to my fingers because that was the only physical presence of those words at the time they were given life.
(Baby ducks follow the first moving thing they see when they hatch,)
And it’s some weird, modern folk tale, how the words got life, and how the words died.
So maybe if I’m the only one who can’t write on paper, then this word carrying curse is the punishment?
It’s a special flaw that makes the protagonist unique but relatable, (along with making her not able to spell anything and not able to talk to people)
And if poetry is just rambling and writing is ranting, then what are words.
The cancerous cells in a slice of bone marrow?
More likely some hellish creature that comes out of everyone only at two in the morning,
or the sticky stuff that I feel sometimes on my keyboard (or is it my fingers?)
Because my sticky fingers are a word’s physical form,
and if you think about it, you really can’t ever touch a word. They’re either soundwaves or dried ink on a dead tree, or pixels on a screen.
(or on your fingertips or your tongue.)
And I carry them with me everywhere, on my tongue and on my sticky fingers.
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 8:45 PM UTC
Keep-A-Breast
Apple
OtterBox
Acu-Rite
Dial Aquafresh
Oral-B
ACT Garnier Equate
Hanes
On the Byas
Rude
Toms
Dakine
Acu-Vue
Ponds Degree
Preferred Stock
Mighty Wallet
Hot Topic
Keurig Dixie
Donut Shop
Domino
International Delight
Peter Paul's
Best Yet Great Value
Instagram
Facebook
Snapchat Yik Yak
Forever 21
Adventure Time
FSC Bic The Poetry Foundation
Staedtler Pilot Sharpie Microsoft
The Norton Anthology
Toshiba Dell Expo
Lipton
Emerica
Anti Hero MOB Shorty's
Bones Thunder
Shake Junt
Swingline
Pandora
Tommy Hilfiger
' Jill Greg Ashley Courtney
Judy
Bob
Janice
Shannon Kelly
Robert Emily Jeremy Darrin Liza
Bill Joe Dominic Sean James
Gav Jordan Tony Eric
Christopher
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC
As I lay dozing in my bed,
I write poetry in my head.
Playing the page with well-worked words,
A mix of adjectives and verbs,
My Voice it resonates with musical sounds
And my imagination knows no bounds.
I like that!
I declare,
So soon I’m rushing down the stairs
To grab my pad.
Scribbling it all down
Did I forget to mention noun?
Forgetting words is just the pits:
That sends me into raging fits.
I’m on my laptop soon enough
To add more verses, off the cuff.
Microsoft Word becomes my home
As now I’m really in the zone.
I just can’t stop myself from doing this I know:
All I can do is let it go.
Paul Butters
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 10:40 AM UTC
when in doubt-i-hyphentate.
this-also prevents Microsoft-word
from capitializing my i-‘s when i-want them
to stay bite-sized humble pie,
but it still capitalizes
itself)
Microsoft word*
* big ‘m’ added by bill gates
misspelling it prevents this
micropoft word*
* i-am the best kind of rebel
i-refuse to be told how to write by anyone
gate-related or otherwise,
even if i-may occasionally **** myself
on paper, the rain will take it all off,
we shall all be healed.
we *will all be healed.
carried away from the squaggly
green/red/blue lines of a processor
which doesn”t understand: poerty so often is
sentence fragments and uncapitalized i-s
untied shoelaces in a dark boling alley,
my bad breath and watered down alcohol,
stains and the hours spent rubbing them,
sounds on a dead tv set, rubbing carpet in
your aunt’s living room,
i-can spell
things how
i-want to
poerty is fun
like this;
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
i have been trying to do some spring cleaning,
like brushing out the cobwebs in my head,
but i always get stuck in the intricate silk and the thought
that i could be something.
i could be.
with each particle, i spin a new letter that fills a
good part of my curriculum -
the ABC's of love and Compasses 101 and
intro to new culture,
just so i can prove that i'm well rounded,
like the tip of my tongue,
like the merry-go rounds,
and the pupils behind my eyelids.
i know there was always a glint of worry
radiating from my mother's
half moon smile,
daring that i won't make it.
she never wanted to curse me,
so she spoke of opposites -
opposites attract (but we both know that isn't true.)
but this isn't about her,
this is about the days and nights i gritted
the enamel off of my molars to
pull myself off the bandwagon,
i've never really been into Natural Light beer,
(some call it Nattie Light),
or the fact that not being focused is what
i should be focused on.
this is about the one night stands with
Microsoft Word and my book of notes completed
with equations i knew i could never understand.
this is about the the day
i found
i could be the person
i never thought
i would be.
Mar 17, 2011
Mar 17, 2011 at 9:01 PM UTC
Microsoft Word?
Word.
Microsoft Works?
Meh. It works.
Feb 4, 2010
Feb 4, 2010 at 10:19 PM UTC
what about that "strange, mortal" coinage of: i just don't want to be here?!
i just can't imagine why
i landed among you depressed rejects -
i really can't, i wrote
poetry, and i guess that's
my excuse, but i like emotional
retards - it makes me feel
alive, i can feel like i can have a beer
and talk Pamplona and Hemingway
and **** oh yeah, they mentioned
go easy on them,
there's me and my blabber mouth,
or as the n.s.a., make new friends that aren't
required extras for the new Hobbit Movie,
jokes aside, i am actually making a investment quote,
no new movie, New York and all...
hmm? what a ****** question,
certain words should never be a question,
rather... what a ****** word to leave a question with;
i mean, what word is imbededed with nuance? oh, right,
the underlined one, robotics microsoft
villa and the twenty two toilets... hmm,
too many guests taking a **** i guess;
i mean (i can say this with a hardened expression
learning to be my father while he un-buried his to
be a father to me made only welcome to a mother,
and no celebrated deity of flesh worthy of **** and whatnot.
it's not fair given the 1990s and Bon Jovi,
and Ghost, and Swayze... it's, just, not, fair!
so agonising to be the choirmaster, you get me?!
no, of course you don't, cos you're Harry Potter.
i know your benevolence,
and it's truly a Ronin tale, all i know is a no toward
Samurai of your idle heart to save a beat, my heart a Shogun,
that was to be - yet more verse i wish to write impaled
worth the pain, for your eyes to sleep entombed
missing spring - as you are, unknown to me, Greek,
because i know no other love worth a mention.
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 10:20 PM UTC