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"pixeled" poems
digital disaster on the horizon. with a monitor tan he plunges on. one's and zero's spew pixeled ********** while assembled atoms wait in his bed. the molecular world violated by binary delight will forfeit it's reality and go offline. digital disaster is on the horizon and a life's work about to be lost. the virus is spreading.
0
Dec 9, 2010
Dec 9, 2010 at 3:35 PM UTC
Digital Virus
Moving here and moving there Moving a million miles With eyes red, eyes dead Tapping a million times. It's no teleport, no airplane, No magical ride Instead of walking out the doors In the pixels we confide. Aimless tip-tap like water drops Ticking as sound of time Punching letters, beating keys, Trying to make a rime. Lovely surfs, lovely speed, Not so lovely is sleep, When the ghost of eyes Stuck in the mist of lies Screen to screen takes a leap. Pixels here, pixels there, Pixels all around, Life here, life there, Real life all gone.
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Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 2:19 PM UTC
Pixeled life
be happy that you got to be a drop in this ocean be fulfilled if one eye scans your pixeled emotion.
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 10:46 AM UTC
Proof Enough
gray and beady-eyed running along the base board a morsel of cheese in it's mouth or is it a  plastic creature attached to a cord guiding you along a pixeled floor which is it and why do we care language language language words they mean things significant things whit howland © 2021
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Apr 28, 2021
Apr 28, 2021 at 10:09 AM UTC
Mouse
I went for a coffee, pen and cigarette Achieved all but the pen Emitting pixeled light I sit at my computer once again Social media intoxicated to the point of forced regurgitation I sigh All the wrongs are posted made to be right by the book All the rights are blasted made to be the crook Pendulum swings 2020 year of the rat as we all COVID are egos become fat heavy with lust solid in greed left to our demise on the great wheel of cheese Some look to fix most instigate 2020 Opened Hells Gates I am not Nostradamus nor do i claim Quatrain VI But a Happy Heretic You keep on a tight leash Losing teeth and sleep chewing thru leather fueled on anti-psychotics I weep I am constant and do not live in fear My birthright will shine Heaven shall appear For those who fight for good Go in peace those that challenge the throne you soul to never cease God as my captain just a day in advance Saturday's all right for fighting
0
Oct 10, 2020
Oct 10, 2020 at 7:08 AM UTC
Pen