"nokia" poems
Heard a beeping sound
Followed by A very old Frank Sinatra’s song
My classmates’ heads turned
Who’s phone? who’s phone?
Less chaotic when the teacher glared
Everybody put their heads down
And checked their sophisticated mobile phones
Once again...
When the teacher wasn’t looking..
Mobile phones roamed in a dull classroom
Updating facebook status,
Uploading candid photos of a snoring friend
Copy pasting assignment
Text messaging and gossiping about their stern looking teacher
In the name of advanced technology
Mobile smartphones create the impossibles...
Beyond the blackboard and the four walls of the classroom
O o Frank Sinatra’s song again...
And everybody started looking...
The teacher grabbed her mobile phone
Tried to switch it off....
When students could own smartphones..
Who needs NOKIA from the old time zone....?
~ Sharina~
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 4:26 AM UTC
I whatsapped you through my nokia
And is it your existence I crave?
Or does my mind order
What is beyond the border
Unseen like the little light bulps in the sky
I whatsapped you through my nokia
And is it your fingertips I need?
Spending minutes on
Semantic and hours on our news feed
And high lights of our day
See my days are all the same
I ask myself questions and I find answers
In the shape of instant messages
Vibrating through my phone;
And as if it’s exhaling some deadly poison
It rings and rings and rings and rings and rings and rings and stops…
I whatsapped you through my nokia
Asking you
“you there?”
But you never answered
Because your iphone cannot show any whatsapp notifications
Coming from hopeless thinkers trying to figure out the typed mysteries of life….
Because your blackberry
Is too black to turn into a satisfactory vision
Of what your future should be;
Because your android
Is practically messy
And willingly complex
Like meteor showers hitting your phone
Every time the truth vibrates
In the shape of unanswered questions
For the answers are there…
But our phones are so smart they hide it;
I wahtsapped you through my nokia
Asking myself
Is my nokia a primitive technology?
A shameful scar on the scale of science
Like syringes ******* all the blood from the unstoppable sweet rush of statistical knowledge
I whatsapped you through my nokia…and all this comes out
Is it me being silly, or us being shallow?
Please do not whatsapp me the answer
For am tired of green screens
And boxed spaces
I need clean streams
Of fine faces
And eyes that glimmer
Rather than phones that shiver…
I shall remind my phone
To remind me
That I don’t need it anymore…
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 8:54 AM UTC
Yet I Am Ready
Watching the waves eat away the castles made of sand
Staring at the way wind is churning at infrastructure land
like a big bad wolf who found the fear and lean foundation of a brick house
I am ready for her hand
I am all ready
Traversing fields filled with fruitless wonders
burning tundras rolling thunders
A Man attempting to put out its grand made funeral pyre
with nothing but a Jack and Jill bucket filled with reverse osmosis electrolyte infused hydrogen oxygen expired prayers
I am Ready for no man land
I have a radio already
Listening to Nokia raven chirps and bubble bee gyrations.
Evergreens whispers as wild blooms break concrete and asphalt and building plans
giving smiles to homeless man and woman
dreamers flowering in the night lights that were supposed to replace stars
I am ready
for the woods to takeover the hoods
for bear feets to take over the streets
for napkins to become extinct
to write with my god-given red ink
so that my being will dye into stone and dirt
To leave my DNA on my mothers belly and hear her cry
As she covers my mouth closes her eyes tearful from radioactive winds
let her know that I loved her and hugged her every chance I could
I am ready to give up me for we have not given back enough
We have devoured the essence and forgotten how to seed and harvest
the nothing has become us
which is why Earths flesh is colored rust
like blood mixed with scratching dust
we have bruised the body
and wonder if we can blame something someone else
but US
Every time the finger points the object of our deflection disappears
Rearrange the letters she was trying to help us HEARt
Rearrange the letters EARth is trying to make us Heart
I'm trying to make us Ear
These MTHFCKRS are among US.
We have bred them with our love lust
still unaware that they a fungus
These MTHRFCKRS have become US
they save a life to **** it from us.
they manufacture fakes to stunt us
These MTHRFCKRS have become US
Ideas devoid of what we need to come up
She must go now and rip it from us
We must shed our blood just to fund us
Cause these MTHRFCKRS have out done US
Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 5:58 AM UTC
a twenty-six year old woman sits alone outside a coffee shop, waiting
she plays Snake on an old Nokia that was discontinued long ago
her red dread locks are tucked neatly under a worn beanie
that she stole from the boy that she gave her virginity away to
in a skate park when she was nineteen
a twenty-six year old woman sits alone at her desk, writing
she has a one night stand whose name she doesn't remember sleeping in her bed
her mascara is running and her lips are dyed black from henna
that she stole from the girl who offered her shelter when she ran away to live
in her car and dingy motel rooms after college
a twenty-six year old woman sits outside a Stop and Shop, drinking Shasta
she recently tried to publish her book of poems , but it was rejected so:
her shorts barely covered her backside and she wore the bralette
that she stole from her brother's girlfriend while she was visiting
in the false hopes that he would register how badly she needed him (or anyone)
a twenty-six year old woman sits in a little blue rowboat, drilling holes into the bottom
she skims Red Kayak before she leaves home and ties rocks around her ankles
her thoughts are set on mentally regressing the pain of her teenage years
that she wishes she could steal back to at least put some emotion back
into her heart
it'd been better than feeling nothing at all
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 6:24 PM UTC
He sits quietly while she explains patiently
what it is that he really wants.
If only he'd listen, he'd not have the stress
of second guessing himself.
In his quiet, in the soft breeze
of her advice, he runs
through perfectly good past menu options
and again considers how their taste
had readily agreed with him.
He resolves and waits for her
to finish her salad,
and before dessert he explains
he needs to leave and walk the dog.
And once safe home,
old Pippa loves him for who he is
and he gratefully takes the lead,
while blocking one more number on his Nokia
and pocketing a mini mars bar for later.
Jun 19, 2022
Jun 19, 2022 at 2:46 PM UTC
yung isang lalaki asawa mo dati
kasi siya ang tatay ng mga anak nyo
yung isang lalaki nobyo mo
iba iba siya
hindi siya kahawig ng aking asawa
dati kong asawa
sa muling
babaero
Hudas
malandi
makapal na mukha.
Nokia ko
mabait sya pag mahalin siya
ang lakas ng tuyo niya
patas na babae sa tono nya
ang isip nya lagi iba-iba
Iyon ang dahilan kung bakit, mahal ko siya. Siya ay walang katulad ng aking dating asawa.
Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 10:45 PM UTC
Bagong-bago
no'ng panahon ni Nokia
Oras-oras
keypad tinitipa
Upang maabot
ang final level
Na babalik din
sa unang level
Cheat code gamitin na
para mas masaya
Everwing ni FB
ay walang panama.
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 8:40 AM UTC
I was struggling on my bed yester-night
I was struggling to catch my train to sleep
Trying to make my way through the crowds of reality
I was tired, I felt weak but couldn't still sleep
I had already missed twice, the train
I had reached the station but
I couldn't close my eyes
my ticket to dream was invalid without that
i couldn't board my train to sleep
What is happening!
check check check check
I checked everything
Bed .... check
Cushion .... check
Pillow .... check
blanket .... ummm
too hot
kick away blanket ... check
mosquio net.... check
Anything else????? Check
lights off.. loadshedding... check
I asked with gatekeeper of dreams
What now? Let me pass
"you miss her"
"text her" easily said the train master
and the gatekeeper of dreams
"Come on..." i resisted
I turned right
I turned left
Turning and turning
Trying to search a loophole to train
I kicked my legs to the cieiling
left one adn imagined of bruce lee
then i cycled both legs
i cursed my day, the boring day it was
with no work to do and no interest as well
I thought about drinking... to numb my restlessness
May be I could do some smoking... to **** my distress
it was already 1AM of the morning
but all i did you just turn sideways
Train master grinned "No Ways"
My eyes were red and bulging
My heart was on fire and burning
My mind wandered from everything to nothing
I was suffocating
I was gasping
panting and
tearing my senses apart
just trying to hack the way to train
but the gatekeep of dreams was not ready to open the chain
I.......gave up
grabbed ny Nokia 3110 classic model
I.............
texted her
i texted her"i am scared to talk with you"
she replied"I am afraid of your poems"
I said"I don't know what to say"
The gate opened, the chain fell down
I boarded for my train to sleep
I was happy
I texted her
She replied
I could breathe again
I was smiling when I woke up
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 9:49 PM UTC
My Koodo
Made a booboo;
The Sony
Made you angry;
My I-Phone
Pulled a *****
My LG
Didn't help me;
My Nokia
Sent diarrhea;
My Smart Phone
Made me a smart ***
When it pocket-dialed.
It didn't sent
Emoticon smiles.
And now,
You know
The rest of the story.
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 7:57 AM UTC
Writing is my outlet,
My emotions are the charger.
I am an old Nokia.
I have endured pain
And hardships in life.
I have watched everyone
Else advance while I am
Left behind.
Everyone remembers me,
But no one really cares anymore.
Everyone knows who I am,
But no one wants me.
I'm no longer good enough.
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 1:16 AM UTC
Megacreative Poetry Crew (Personified by poetic devices)
☆Poem by Phozi Poetic Skinny Bae himself
• O botse Shame O swana le Benz •
in Front, of My eyes She is Like a Mercedes-Benz, so Beautiful you can see God Took his Time, before she was Born, She found me all alone, Now her number is stored in My Nokia Phone,
So Good Looking that you could Bet, She is an Angel, She turns me on From Every Angle, She makes it hard and prevent it to Dangle, and I wish I could wear hers like a Bangle,
On Top' Of Her League. She is... .. .
my Mind. When I Look at her, is What, She Please, her Looks tease, a Woman Healthy Like Green Trees, at first sight She gave me Brain Freeze, at Night Like a Knight I was on my Knees, already Forgot about my Fees, Praying to God to "Please" Undress her and Give me a Chance to Please... [her]
Black Like a Butterfly from the Mountains, Making my saliva flow like the Fountains, because I have a solid wish to Make her Mine, Make the Years Nine, Because her Response was a Sign, That she is ready to submit it all to me, Give it all to me, and Bare it all to me,
Dineo Phomolo Seshohli gal O botse Shame O swana le Benz. She act Like she knows she was meant for me, Like she was sent for me, She is a Perfect Match, I Thought to Get her was Going to be a Difficult Match, Seems like she had NO time to let me pass, Till I Pass away from Stress in the Streets of Love, she set me free exactly like a dove, Like she was sent to me by the one above,
I am in Love, Dived in naked Like I am from Hell, with a wish to give her a TJ, That is a Tongue Job, till she Drips, and Overflow with all the right juices for that moment,
She is one of my kind, Now as I write this, She is stuck at the back of my Mind, The time has went, when we meet, I wish, I can rewind, because that is the day I felt different, From feeling transparent, to feeling solid, hard, handsome and spoiled,
If she is the devil my soul is sold till we die or grow old, our Love will still be bold, while walking hand in hand in the peaceful road,
I want to have her in a Good way. O botse Shame O swana le Benz.
Dedication: Phomolo Seshohli
Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 7:37 AM UTC
I bought myself a new modern mobile
With Internet and all.
***
Such a leap into the stars
After my “Lappy” Laptop
And old Nokia.
Where do I begin?
Either here or on the phone?
At sixty five I need some kid
To show me.
All this feather-light touching and sweeping,
“Apps” and “Data” and battery preservation.
A bewildering jungle of meaningless symbols
That lead you into chaos.
It can be great:
Taking and sharing lovely vistas
For all your Facebook Friends.
Speaking to Google and getting a nice sounding
Lady reply.
Very handy indeed
Until it all goes wrong
And World War Three breaks out
Or else you are Stuck
As surely
As a Prisoner.
But hey, I can be a Fast Learn
Getting there
As at long last I enter
The Twenty First Century.
Paul Butters
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 11:27 AM UTC
Fills you with majesty it does, this ****** place –
a few stars above.
When light left this one, Napoleon walked the earth.
This other, Julius Caesar.
Wonderful - The whole dreadful lot of it.
A train approaches – headlights and what have you,
colouring the sky pink, like everything else around here –
this strip of crust, this bay, these obscure designs of a people,
moralisers and chastisers and spell checkers breathing temperate breaths. in and out all day for 160 ka, or there about.
haughty on pretence – out there on July 26th 1807, the Rochdale sank with a pop, a bang and a glug,
The Prince of Wales wouldn’t be left behind. GLUG GLUG GLUG.
and the night came over all funny just then,
fizzled into something else for a short while and returned to its current state.
NOBODY NOTICED
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 7:55 AM UTC
Dance to the violin, twirl me and then run.
Tomorrow’s a different day. You have gone cold
and I remain burned.
There were candles of periwinkle skies and sunshine,
I remember,
I have lit them one by one.
I watched the wicker ember glow and fade black
and blew some. Candles are meant as wishes.
It was 11:11, a shooting star, or the first twinkle of
the night.
I left, cold sweat glistening under your touch
too humane for me.
Let’s keep the box wrapped in silk paper.
Put the sheets and that cologne I like
along with your candles.
Stop looking for that old silver Nokia phone.
The umbrella’s broken, and everything else that I have given
are with dust under my bed, where your monsters are hidden.
I am no longer yours
and you, never mine.
And I’m okay with that
like how you once held me in peace under
your Mother’s watchful eyes.
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 7:03 AM UTC
Girls
Girls
Girls
They came in all shapes and sizes,
& different colors.
Some can walk, some can talk and some looks just good enough.
Some are like that Nokia type..
You know what I mean.
Well, I wanna touch each and every model out there before they get outdated.
But hey mommy get me wife who will open up only by my fingerprints.
Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 11:29 AM UTC
I'm laying on my bed
A Nokia in my hands
it's dark and all is quiet
but sleep hasn't come to me yet.
I'm sleepy but my eyelids won't close
I want to fall asleep in the cold
warmth of blanket and soft pillow
still, I stare into this bright screen
hoping sleep will come to me, somehow.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
In Cyberland, Microsoft is King
And we all pray to Google.
There is an Apple Resistance,
And Yahoo keeps on yelling,
But Microsoft is King.
Where did Jeeves go?
Remember him, you oldies?
A smiling Hitchcock fatty
You could ask things.
Remember Bebo and MySpace too.
But now we Snapchat through the day
And ask folk WhatsApp.
All in an Instagram.
(My Custom Dictionary
Is filling with new words).
So now it’s time for Tik Tok.
(See what I did there?)
That’s if the Americans allow it!
And much more no doubt.
Instagram Gratification
Flashing images
And clips.
No time for tedious talking
On landline phones
Or, heaven forbid,
Face to face conversation.
Writing – or rather typing – too is clipped
With lols & rofls & tbfs.
Lazy language
Tweets in textese
Fast and fleeting.
Facebook Funnies
With bouncy banter.
As a loyal subject of Cyberland
I do confess
To many an hour
Sifting through Facebook Memories
Even improving old posts
With coloured backgrounds
And sharper edits.
Addictive Internet indeed.
Yet
In years to come
Will we laugh loudly
At the mention of Google
And all the names I’ve said
Like we snigger at Bebo, MySpace
And Nokia Mobiles now?
The tsunami of technological change
Sweeps over our heads
Smashing the past:
Leading us
To who knows where.
For better or worse
Who can say?
Wherever we are going,
We are well on the way.
Paul Butters
© PB 17\9\2020.
Sep 17, 2020
Sep 17, 2020 at 5:01 AM UTC
Teen mahine pehle ek dastak hui,
603-604 asha appt mein hulchul hui,
Mein Corona hoon, sab mujhse darte hai...usne jataya..
Kuch darre hum, kuch sehme hum,
Phir usko bataya...
Saalo pehle BP aur Sugar aaye the,
Hum goli khaye, phir kheer pakori ka mazza uthaya...
Aur unko niptaaya....
Uff Caronao, humein daraona....
Kuch hum darre hai,
Ghar par baithe hai,
Sab jagah curfew hai,
Sadak par "few" hai,
Woh Corona Warriors hai...
Uff Coronao, humein daraona...
Kuch study ki, analysis kiya,
Immunity ko strong kiya,
Anlom-vilom par command kiya,
Saas aise powerful kiya,
Corona ne bhi social distancing kiya,
Uff Coronao, humein daraona....
Hummare pair mein bhi sanichar hai,
Ghar se nikalna humari fitrat hai,
Kuch na sahi corona hai,
Ussi ka discussion hai,
Uff coronao, humein daraona
Tum senior citizen na bano,
Youngster ki gali mein raho,
Hum party aur dinner ko tarse,
Tum pre-Corona bash manao,
Uff coronao, humein daraona
Maana badlaav mushkil hai,
Par safar toh karna hai,
Nokia namaskar se phone tak,
Soap se sanitizer tak,
College life se family life tak,
Ghoomne se ghar par thaherne tak,
Uff Corona, humein daraona...
Aug 27, 2020
Aug 27, 2020 at 9:44 AM UTC
What a weird sight,
on the other end of Nokia's snake.
Trapped in a car between 9th and 28th from north to south,
for a wild troop of humans.
What's a 10k, if we boil it down to biology?
There's nothing **** here,
no reproductive purposes.
Still, 55 thousand people line up and run 10k,
maybe to prove they can.
Like the way we collect guns,
or write poetry,
or hit our children,
or eat deer.
We prove to ourselves we're half animal still.
Archaic is a word
we're yet to learn
on our job evaluations.
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 2:22 AM UTC
I love you he texts, the glow
shows, gripped in each others
arms under the light of each
others phones.
Eyes rarely touch, when all that
is looked on is there other love,
which is a Samsung or Nokia phone.
We should get together she reads,
even though in each others arms
they could not be further apart...
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 5:17 PM UTC
20yrs, 5 free.
Nokia keypad.
Isolation free.
A smart user ?
Freaked out by early morning alarm calls. This life we create - symbols on monopoly boards, roll the dice, wait ya turn, play your part.
May 18, 2019
May 18, 2019 at 2:53 PM UTC
and they made me feel like the elephant man (hey! hey the fifth cartilage limp movement!): china's up 2% on the scrooge market of investing into blah blah, while Nokia made investments into Samsung... and the Hawaiian sun never scorched people so much as the volcano of Pompeii had once: and as i now understand, some people don't understand a simple word like no.
medieval europe was right into fit girls,
appreciating their beauty in an
iron maiden or burning on a stake,
pacified western society is into warlocks,
they have all the torture instruments
in the shape of a pill...
peacocks we can eat, beautiful humans
we need to torture,
so when medieval europe got rid of
beautiful women, modern europe
is getting rid of beautiful men, because,
like, why not? god, writing these words
almost makes me feel like a god,
a detached human being,
only three years i can count as fathomable
in terms of being competitive on the
dating scene,
all the year prior and proceeding after i find
too much of an Elvis antidote to the english
stiff upper lip... i'm having nightmares along
the lines of: so i was sitting under a citrus tree
and newton fell on my head...
i guess i invented the circle but didn't invent the
wheel...
wheel being the byway interpretation of
a circle and a sphere...
but you know how it goes... torture tactics had
to change for the cultural emblem that the crucifix
is to remain.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 7:28 PM UTC
i am just a nokia a little mobile phone
some one they have lost me now i am alone
no one there to hold me every time i ring
i am just an orphan a poor little thing
i cant answer calls or even say hello
what am i to do i really just dont know
maybe ill be found that is what i yearn
then again once more to my home i will return
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 9:50 AM UTC
It was not long ago when my HP
became a chopping board...
You see the internet as it was called
DIED, expired, perished with but...
a blank page greeting my vision.
Panic ensued smart phones became
like nokia's overnight used of all things
like talking and texting... TEXTING..
But where one moment faded,
Life became normal, people talked to
another, read books.. learnt...
Fake news was now a myth as everything
was real, TV radio, papers were growing
in popularity, paper was the new cool...
Books were selling, so many trees became
words again. Me I wasn't that fused..
I wrote on a note pad, not a Mac.. paper..
The internet died a while back, but humanity
got a little bit of its self back, the company of
others thrived. Friends where real, not some
status on a screen or board. I use my HP for
a chopping board now..
its good for dicing onion you see...
Jul 18, 2017
Jul 18, 2017 at 5:02 PM UTC