"People with dexterity and good timing are O.P.! NERF THEM! OMGOMGOMG!"

I should've guessed
by the nondescript response
teenagers glazed
by 'proper' use of language;
'old-speak' as some would see it
yet to be blessed by a words prowess
fazed by more than 1 syllable
seems inconceivable
and yet text-speak sits,
or rather, should be, languish,
as a hybrid of our languages
prompts me to write this
out of plain literary anguish.

each year on birthdays
write a small poem or limerick
the momentary excitement of opening the card
is lapsed by reason
(it does not contain a £20 note)
the thought bubble denotes
they express some disdain
the speech bubble that follows
the spark in the brain
just another of Uncles gimmicks
lacking the imagination to invoke
something more personal
than a hardback book:
another 200 recipes
for the aspiring young cook

they implied they enjoyed lunchtimes at school
instead wanted an iPad or something
equally expensive and cool

So I try to embrace it
this thing they call urban
write something poetic in text-speak
the very premise of it
is somewhat disturbing
the infinite curve of learning
LOLs from actual LOLS;
the mobile language equivalent
of online voyeurs,
the posters of nonsense,
noobs and trolls

apparently a ROFL
is more-or-less as potent as ****
I scratch my head in wonder
text-speak is used by millions
to converse on a global scale
some how

Q: does SUM exist
(as in 'shut ur mouth' )
is that acceptable?

A: not yet cordially invited on the list
(its an actual word
doesn't count as an acronym)
Im told

the coal face of the lexicon:
indigestible
the steep learning curve:
unpredictable

by your 30s its automatically
re-classified:
Congratulations
You are now officially 'Old'

we are merely wordsmith pedestrians
lost in the tide of text-speak equestrians
jumping and leaping and rolling in SETE and S2R's
are we binned as an S4L, the Spam For Life?
(perhaps I haven't got that abbreviation quite right)

in the context of text-speak
they are suitably troll-like in their essence
forgive me dear teenager
I am but a
SNAG in your presence:

'Sensitive'
(on occasion)
'New
Age' and
'Grown-up'
(given the right persuasion)

the riposte would be SUYF!!
('Shut Up You Fool' - said like MR. T in A-Team)
STM and Spank The Monkey
apologise, SOZ, SRY and Apls
or something equally short,
snappy and funky

at this juncture
before the brain has a puncture
simply BBFN, lest I
BBS or BBIAB or BBIAF
[thankfully this isn't a test]

like WCA
(Who Cares Anyway)
but you'd remark WAI
(and thats I for Idiot)
let out a long distance sigh
wave the imaginary fist
at the youth of yesteryear

all you'd get back was
Wicked Evil Grin
(WEG) for a
Wild *** Guess
(WAG);
a WEG for a WAG
and a PDQ x 2

would be the sum parts of the conversation
between me and you

if language and words and meaning was lost
if acronyms and abbrieviations
in CAPS
was all that there was

*** smeared in ***
with APLS for the PMJI
TXT SPK has got me PML
when MHBFY and
M8s on a MOB crusade
AWOL and dizzy for the next API
MGB for your MF device
throw in some GALGAL logic
where GIGO will simply suffice
Warning: PAW and GJIAGDV
(where the latter is Volcano)
include your GF for some cuddly GBH
and some GHP if she says so

its T2Go
be positive with the T+
and all of that Text-Speak CUZ
I'll T2UL and T for your time,
I'll TAH on the whole TBC

next year i'll just slip in a £20 note
and simply write:
Happy Birthday
with LV
from me

I'm far from you
Yet close;
My heart races,
ten steps too fast,
Blood trying
To fix imaginary wounds.

My head hurts so bad,
My legs won't stop,
Shaking—

The cries of my lonely self
I miss you.

Procasti-Nation by Rob Sandman

Let it wait,get it straight,I can do it tomorrow,
I'm a Hobbit-on the pipeweed,stayin in my burrow,
what's the hurry anyway?,no need for trepidation,
relaxin on my throne king of Procrasti-nation

What's the deal man?,chillin,killin noobs online,
what,the job interview?,nah man I let it slide,
6am wake up?,man I'm barely asleep,
on a killstreak here,hah noobs roll deep,
got an bar yesterday,I'll split 50/50,
smoked a lot last night,should divide it swiftly...
nevermind,do it later, I ain't rushin a thing,
procrastination is a country and you know I'm the King,
loungin' on the game of swords Throne,spliff in my mouth,
getting low on munch,but don't want to venture out,
may be lazy,even crazy,I don't like crowds,
had my feet on the ground-and my head in the clouds,
but lately the ground's turned into quick-sand,
get knocked on my **** every time I take a stand,
don't worry bout me man,no need for consternation,
I'm the clown with the crown,king of Procrastination,

So I let it wait head's not straight,I'm livin in tomorrow,
like Bilbo on the pipeweed,hidin in me burrow,
me family are wonderin exactly why I'm waitin'
it's a hollow crown now,king of Procrastination

See the thing about a rut is(look it up)you're stuck,
motivation is gone, and sure the country's ******,
could try to get a job,hmmm what are my skills?,
I can sling ****,talk ****,and get high kills,
on COD-not a good CV,
a big bogey lookin skinhead,who'd hire me?,
could go back on the doors,yeah,like back in the day,
but nowadays you need a license from the PSA,
and that costs cash,here today gone tomorrow,
so it's back to the hustle,beg Steal,and borrow,
but recently I medically got kicked in the ***,
so I put words to work,cause my rhyming's class,
bare me soul to stranger's,disguised as lies,
good listener so no-one see's the pain in MY eyes,
I got a gameplan,sure to sweep the Nation...
think I'll start tomorrow,King of Procrasti-nation.

So I let it wait,got it straight,I'll rule the world tomorrow,
cause it's scary out there,but comfy in me burrow,
every day another reason for my hesitation,
tomorrow is my Kingdom- yeah- Procrasti-nation.

We post, tweet, google and skype
We re, fwd, edit and code
We have so much access, to so much tripe.
We log in, connect, update, download


Instant information,
endless exploration
constant zombification
Our wireless Nation

Pale electric shadows,
cast on the walls.
Unable to break from
the gripping siren's call

Camping the bodies
pwning the noobs
sniping their medic
just for the luls

Mining down deeply, into the nether
Waiting for spawns that follow the weather
Collecting the pets, weapons, mounts
Getting achievements that cross all accounts

So much to amaze, mesmerize, and entertain
All the things to look up, argue about, explain
A race with access to knowledge galore
and still we demand faster, better, MORE!

I write sometimes li̲ke I'm out for
blood (I kind of have been & am)
like vampires; tha[ɑ]t's for
all the injustice & violence absorbed
[video games, films, (& later) rap & politics-related stuff]
from this unjust & f#cked world
you may think I'm a kettle boiling, 'cause
writing rhymed texts & going hos—
—tile in 'em is a way to blow steam off
besI̲des that, I'm bored
like a plank that I̲ would, o[ʌ]f course
["board"]
not mind watching a ****** dumb war—
—mongering, power-drunk ****
walk off into the waters galore of hungry cro[ɑ]cs or
sharks, though I̲ would o[ɑ]pt for something much worse
if punishing power-corrupted schmucks were
up to mO̲I̲ with my warped
mind; like a drama queen, or a jihadist fiend
at a public spot with **̲[ɑ]stile in—
—tentions & a bomb, or a gun on him
I'd make such a scene
["sin"]
one tor—mentors would love to observe
one worth grabbing some ****** po[ɑ]pcorn
[like the one portrayed in "punishment of an autocrat"]
****** alert; the villainous fiend
inside wants to join this lyrical binge
give 'em *******, dude
————————————————————————————————
listen U̲p, you da[ɛ]mn fool
this message is also for the trap rap playschool
that you pU̲nk pertain to
consider yourself LIA 'cA̲U̲se you're plain doomed
[lost in action]
like an aircrA̲ft which is about
to crA̲sh into the ground (plane, doomed)
call thI̲s sh#t maltreatment
'cause, like a wicked professor prone
to domineering, I'ma teach you a lesson, ***
["molltreatment"]
'cause in this lyric-writing game, you
are just a lame stewd'
[stu(ew)dent]
you better find some da[ɛ]mn tools
the screws of mine are cray loose
just like Deadpool's; memorize this name to
call me by: Slay Illsome
[Deadpool's real name is Wade Wilson]
you're like pup: so ****** tame you
should be called Lame Chillsome
["po[ɑ]p", in the sense of "pop music"]
so inept that holding somebO̲[ɑ]dy's dra[ɛ]nk, you'd
prob'ly wind up with the dra[ɛ]nk spilled, chump
I'm an instiller of awe & distaste
a thrill killer, nuts, A̲lthough well-trained
and I really love to slay noobs
I'll be enjoying some thrilling, high-octane tunes
while you'll be stricken by the grave blues
'cause I'll have you feeling such a pain you
are gon' wish it were Max 'stead of me & start to pray to
["Payne"; Max Payne, who mostly just guns down his targets]
me to put you down like I̲'m the type slinging
off at others; I'll I̲ce you by swinging
my mo'f#cking blade through
your neck like a batter, whereA̲fter I[ɑ]'ll pick
up your nut & make use
of it as a **** bA̲sketball, *****
I'll chop you in parts, then bo[ɑ]x 'em, like a way to
verbally tag an attrA̲ctive gal with
a set of plumply-shaped *****
["buxom"]
I'll have the box wrapped a la gifts
and then get the remainders of you sE̲nt ta
a replantation-focused center
(so much for something with the littlest of spite...)
————————————————————————————————
like a substance a[ɑ]ddict
tryna quit but quickly sliding ba[ɑ]ckwards
one verse & I'm back to mY̲ bad ha[ɑ]bits
[the prelude]
of writing; life-lethargic, bU̲t this art form
is something I sure have go[ɑ]t a lust for
which explains why
I'm sO̲ de—voted to my stuff when it's getting laid, like
a carnal co[ɑ]mmerce; lyrical self-indulgence, much more
than self-indulgent "I̲'ve got" type twerps
making unco[ɑ]mplicated trap
as if there were something like a cavy that
those diletta[ɑ]nti aim to catch
like someO̲ne depraved, I have (what?)
a ba[ɑ]wdy-like urge in my mI̲nd when I verse
like a tI̲ght-fit guise worn by a gal with nice curves
exercising, intention... of nailing rhyming
["in tension"]
as if rhymes were lush girls
the type to whom technical seduction comes first
lyrics-wise, which is why some of my works
may be regarded as hot stuff
like a heated iron flyi[—]ng to[—]ward
the face of a tyrant-like ****
with the bo[ɑ]ttom side forth; do this kind of stuff for
fun & to maintain these mI̲nd skills I scored
["slay just to maintain some relish & killing skills"]
which explains why I dub it "bar sport"
[sport/fun of making bars (rhymed lines)]
you trap rap hacks ou[ɑ]ght to ha[ɑ]ve your
bars shA̲rp just like swords of samurais, for
["sharp" in the sense of "stylish"/"attractive"]
as I̲'ve said afore, I'm O̲U̲t for blood, twerps
————————————————————————————————
struck this "bar sport" writing up short
["bar sport (prelude)" followed by this one]
on hope, wound up with a flood of thou[ɑ]ghts versed (wow)
guess this writer's inner fire's no[ɑ]t burned... out
like someone dO̲ne too much work

droppin off of the face of the earth
so ******* and ******* betta make a wide birth
im destroyin cities
grabbin *******
causin ****** choas
YOU ******* WANNA GET CROSSED??
my brains gone n busted
YOU THINK I CAN BE TRUSTED?
give me your babies and keys
or dont ill just ****** rob these
houses and homes and GARDEN GNOMES
And WE'LL SEE WHOS REALLY CRAZY
im tellin ya it obviously aint me!
im as psychologically stable as can be!
ya see my doctor says i should lays in bed
pretend for all the world to be dead
he said eat fat foods and shoot up them noobs
no eating your greens
no ******* sweet dreams
and make sure from the sun you hide
just remember ya lil **** dont ******* go outside
well now ive been
so here comes sin
put away your fragile psychi
caus this ******* gotta psych-plee
i was born for one reason
to commit massive human treason
to be the human A explosion
giving way to the long awaited erosion
of you
ya stinky piece a poo