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"pixellated" poems
my mum used to joke     that my eyes would turn square if i looked at pixels too long. i remember the scare that my pupils would bend into inky black stamps, and my retinas bleached from the machinery glow. that i would wander the streets only for children to point and scream while their own mothers tutted 'you still want that playstation for christmas?' now i'm grown up and that vision has died, as the streets are all littered with others, square-eyed. i can imagine their xylophone skeletons as their fingers tap fast on the tiny blue screens; it's no wonder we aren't very good with eye contact. so i'm sorry mum, we've all been entrapped in this pixellated blur of technological time lapse. and i guess all these square pegs can't fit into the round holes that they used to be, in a world that we cannot remember.
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Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 6:10 PM UTC
square-eyed
A baby crawling paws down Down the stairs into the study room the odd computer flashes the faces of what looks like people a whiteout face with black shameful eyes breaks the scroll of happy faces happy places and joyous info as empty as a new USB it's gaze pierced my soul forever It was 1998 then More than a decade later whiteout faces everywhere on every screen monitors growing out like tumors on a monster from The Thing one grows in my pocket I pull the tiny screen out and the face eyeballs me again one grows in each room the kitchen has one on the fridge all the cars have them, too pixellated faces talking at me I feel there may be one plugged on my heart or brain I can only think on its terms, now I'm going to need a date for the movies tonight.
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Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC
The Faces on the Screen
I checked my net but all I got was catfish Conversations opened, and suddenly the sight of a notification from "Miah" makes my heart race Five days pass and I'm tempted to talk about her but she doesn't exist in the "real world" so I twist my tongue inside my mouth and hide the secret of her beneath it I cannot jinx what isn't real, or tangible because it's easy to believe in god but "Miah" is 400 miles away I've only seen her face pixellated on a screen The implication is planted that I should know more Mythical creatures are hard to believe in and then, "Miah's" phone number is linked to "Mike's" smiling face at his graduation I've put my heart online and the viruses ate at it but here in the "real world" I'm just another fool with a net full of catfish
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Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 5:39 PM UTC
Gone Fishing
feel free to tell me how much you love me - she said to me as she travelled on her way I sat in Ireland She drove in the States I rested upon her dashboard in a pixellated mess my words spoken by a robot and 'Siri' was heard to say *You're the leaves on my tree - the stars in my skies You're the rivers to my seas (without you what am I?) You're my reason for breathing ~ The glint in my eyes ~ You're the spice in this stew You're the only one of you I'm so lucky to have met ~ beautiful you ... I love you* (even Siri sighed, I think)
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Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 8:22 AM UTC
feel free to tell me
If life were like Internet history I wouldn't be here And neither would you I'd have deleted us from my history And never seen you again If life were like my email I'd have endless lists of friends Following me everywhere Asking how my day was And being "always there for me" If life were like Spotify I could hear what I want And skip what I don't like A song for the day To carry me through it all If life were like Facebook I wouldn't be sad anymore And you could move on Once it all becomes "complicated" Afterall, I can just delete it later If life were like a video game I could be the best And you the worst Because I couldn't fall for you If you were only pixellated If life were like an avatar I could shape you up To be the perfect image And when I get tired Just delete you like you did me If life were like a video Your voice would play on and on Forever in my mind Until I eventually realize You pressed pause and I never knew
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Sep 18, 2017
Sep 18, 2017 at 1:04 PM UTC
The World Online
Compassion is a distraction Leaving butterflies and still question marks While I'm smiling, groaning, and thrashing Swimming in a cesspool filled with cruel sharks Not used to kind remarks and the complimentary excess So I hashtag fallacies and clever messages to make them all perplexed Then Come the moment of truth cross them out wave goodbye And slash every last dime a dozen heart If what they were saying was genuine. . . I'd find a way To be disappointed from the start Pixellated picture frames hover play over dull space When it's the only real way to me I ever get to see your full face And when left alone in the confines of a necessary moment I'd lead with retrospect and waste time wondering what it all meant I forget to taste and touch. Too busy while I preach and rush To enjoy a moment in the sun and all that noise seems to hush The day I forgot to stop and think was the day I had some fun Until I rewind the reality tape and press play to watch it come undone The tale I spin runs with parasites that perforate dripping abcesses Ravage rats ravenous and infected blood flows through cordial asepsis Fantasizing of better times while right now passes by. I close my eyes and kiss the sky and wish that I could fly Fish for stockpile rhythm and dive bar singing blues Sizing up and dicing up and slicing up the clues Sometimes it can be as simple as simple: me and you Until I **** that too and habits bloom I'm just a fool Who thinks on wasted talent The words I write don't render sight so I don't bother myself A single dent. My cup has run over wild amok. Belly up. Superfluous in extent I'm not certain whether to give a **** or pray to God my soul is sent. RE: :) Wow. My Gawd that is sooo hot. You're really so tlented! Hmu 2 c wat's up. Or better yet txt me #Spent xoxo Until next time Let me kno wat u ment. ...
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Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 11:46 PM UTC
Reticular Activating System
Compassion is a distraction Leaving butterflies and still question marks While I'm smiling, groaning, and thrashing Swimming in a cesspool filled with cruel sharks Not used to kind remarks and the complimentary excess So I hashtag fallacies and clever messages to make them all perplexed Then Come the moment of truth cross them out wave goodbye And slash every last dime a dozen heart If what they were saying was genuine. . . I'd find a way To be disappointed from the start Pixellated picture frames hover play over dull space When it's the only real way to me I ever get to see your full face And when left alone in the confines of a necessary moment I'd lead with retrospect and waste time wondering what it all meant I forget to taste and touch. Too busy while I preach and rush To enjoy a moment in the sun and all that noise seems to hush The day I forgot to stop and think was the day I had some fun Until I rewind the reality tape and press play to watch it come undone The tale I spin runs with parasites that perforate dripping abcesses Ravage rats ravenous and infected blood flows through cordial asepsis Fantasizing of better times while right now passes by. I close my eyes and kiss the sky and wish that I could fly Fish for stockpile rhythm and dive bar singing blues Sizing up and dicing up and slicing up the clues Sometimes it can be as simple as simple: me and you Until I **** that too and habits bloom I'm just a fool Who thinks on wasted talent The words I write don't render sight so I don't bother myself A single dent. My cup has run over wild amok. Belly up. Superfluous in extent I'm not certain whether to give a **** or pray to God my soul is sent. RE: :) Wow. My Gawd that is sooo hot. You're really so tlented! Hmu 2 c wat's up. Or better yet txt me #Spent xoxo Until next time Let me kno wat u ment. ...
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Pixellated landscapes, Health bars and quick saves. I'll never get Over the Poetry Of it All.
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Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 11:14 PM UTC
Ode To Escapism
I recall the wonder of discovery and The awesome Technicolor When you , taking me in your hand, Perplexed the monarch of my affections And I was a spinster no longer My cataracts bent themselves rectangle As you made primetime of my matinee Made me pixellated The world was square And the Sky without limits When I moved you into my private chamber The pause button, having broken Made us live in the moment Every sound wave a fluttering falsetto That we dare not turn the channel over You came to me in flat format But you were the set top box of times now gone I longed to open you up And absorb your teletext- the sonnets of old Primetime was a kaleidoscope As I lay there in bed with you, my precious television Suddenly this slim rectangular riddle, when switched on, was a philanthropist without shackles The infinite gift that kept on giving Mid-way through Holby City 20:20 Vision slipping I lay there captivated by the elements of some fictional dame And her fiery mane as it lights up the screen The screen flickered 24 frames per second And with it I slip into a familiar abyss Ah, the reassuring comfort of my companion And how you lulled me to sleep Every press of the remote was a celebration of my admiration Groping and clinging to it like some wilting tradition Night after night you kept me company Breathing warmth and pointing your aerial towards me As I begged Mr Murdoch to Open my eyes and fill me with information Nothing dared distract me from you Though there are those that tried Those who found themselves muted I was glued And when the schedules faded to shopping or teletext I’d switch you off And listen to you on standby How your heavy breathing would soothe me The red on/off light that burns brightly into the night Lets me know that you are alive I hide the remote from prying eyes Beneath the pillow that, on top, sit’s the TV guide My encyclopaedia to the stars How you have pleased me endlessly Illuminating me Filling me with light I swift you off and reach for the plug When suddenly a shock of electricity runs through my body I feel it in my bones You are possessive It reminds me that I am alive End
0
Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 9:11 AM UTC
Television
I recall the wonder of discovery and The awesome Technicolor When you , taking me in your hand, Perplexed the monarch of my affections And I was a spinster no longer My cataracts bent themselves rectangle As you made primetime of my matinee Made me pixellated The world was square And the Sky without limits When I moved you into my private chamber The pause button, having broken Made us live in the moment Every sound wave a fluttering falsetto That we dare not turn the channel over You came to me in flat format But you were the set top box of times now gone I longed to open you up And absorb your teletext- the sonnets of old Primetime was a kaleidoscope As I lay there in bed with you, my precious television Suddenly this slim rectangular riddle, when switched on, was a philanthropist without shackles The infinite gift that kept on giving Mid-way through Holby City 20:20 Vision slipping I lay there captivated by the elements of some fictional dame And her fiery mane as it lights up the screen The screen flickered 24 frames per second And with it I slip into a familiar abyss Ah, the reassuring comfort of my companion And how you lulled me to sleep Every press of the remote was a celebration of my admiration Groping and clinging to it like some wilting tradition Night after night you kept me company Breathing warmth and pointing your aerial towards me As I begged Mr Murdoch to Open my eyes and fill me with information Nothing dared distract me from you Though there are those that tried Those who found themselves muted I was glued And when the schedules faded to shopping or teletext I’d switch you off And listen to you on standby How your heavy breathing would soothe me The red on/off light that burns brightly into the night Lets me know that you are alive I hide the remote from prying eyes Beneath the pillow that, on top, sit’s the TV guide My encyclopaedia to the stars How you have pleased me endlessly Illuminating me Filling me with light I swift you off and reach for the plug When suddenly a shock of electricity runs through my body I feel it in my bones You are possessive It reminds me that I am alive End
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