"possum" poems
Spiders.
Snakes.
Late nights, due to the fact that once I saw a possum in our garage when it was dark out.
Good looking people not thinking I'm good looking.
Holding children. I might drop them.
My brothers growing up to be just like me.
Shark attacks.
Jumping off high places.
Headphones that go too deep into my ears.
Going the opposite direction of so many cars. I'm the only one going my way. They're probably headed the right way. They're probably having more fun.
Realizing that, after being on the road for a while, my high beams have been on the whole time. Sorry.
Cockroaches.
Family reunions where I'm not sure if that really attractive girl is my family or someone's friend.
Climbing up the stairs of the Bombay ride at Wet N' Wild because there just slabs of stone I can see under. I could slip and fall right through.
Enjoying bad bands.
Letting my girlfriend look into my eyes.
Talking on the phone.
Growing up.
Refusing to grow up.
Reading this over if I ever finish it and realizing that I am something less than a regular human being. Probably an animal of some kind.
Frogs.
Big animals.
Waking up one day as the same person I always have been.
Standing still.
My parents.
Not spending the rest of my life with the girl I swore I would.
Texting people too often.
My parents dying.
Whales.
My teeth being this awful the rest of my life.
Braces.
Making people think they offended me. People never offend me.
Writing anything that's ever as good as Ernest Hemingway. How dare I think that I ever could.
Running too hard. My heart might burst.
Being unreasonable. Am I unreasonable?
Sticking my finger inside an air conditioning vent in a car. I don't know if there's a fan in there. I don't know if it'll take my finger off.
Getting people's hopes up.
Letting people down.
Fish.
Bees.
Being a teacher.
My laugh.
Wearing bad clothes.
Holding her hand too hard. I might cut off circulation. She might get mad.
My brother disapproving of what I do.
Heaven because it sounds awful doing the same thing for the rest of forever.
Finding out I've been gay this whole time.
Cracking my fingers.
Being a parent.
Whales.
Final exams.
Paranormal Activity 4.
Singing on cue.
Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.
Eating insects.
Whales.
Silence.
The open ocean.
Whales.
Whales.
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 12:45 PM UTC
The Sun shines on my computer
Creating a protective glare
But night comes like an intruder
At pictures I begin to stare
After I view their portrait online
I want to see their body on mine
We talk all night
Until I see the light
That they're not that bright
Or that they like to fight
Desperation swirls
I enter a world
Where the randomness of human interaction
Meets the randomness of my attraction
And the low visibility
Endears no civility
Will I spend infinity
In this digital city?
The creatures try to hide
They scatter in the distance
They're not hard to find
When their profiles leave imprints
But the parasites are quick
And the scavengers stick
Vultures fly from iPad to iPhone
Leeches try to make my pad their home
Devouring me until I'm bad to the bone
Like the solicitous predators
Who act like creditors
And the sly foxes
Who claim they're locksmiths
They all have claws and fangs
They're all just jaws with brains
I play possum
Until I've lost them
When monsters are made from loneliness
They try to trick me with phoniness
They feel I wouldn't want us to be together
And they're probably right
Because all I want is to spend forever
In love's divine light
Nocturnal animals just want the meal
Of my motion
They don't want to honestly feel
My devotion
In the wild
I am a child
The creatures cut deep
They make me weep
Until I choose to sleep
But when I avoid their glance
I avoid love's chance
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 4:39 AM UTC
For all who have been wondering
Let me set the story straight
About the hillbilly holidays
Before it gets too late
We don't have an Easter possum
This tale is just a myth
It's a cute little bunny with a basket
To collect our Easter eggs with
And Cupid don't wear overalls
And fly around with a gun
He shoots them tiny little arrows
But we know it's all in fun
And Santa still has his reindeer
Not a horse tied to his sleigh
We leave him milk and cookies
Not moonshine like they say
The Tooth Fairy is not toothless
This simply isn't true
She always leaves us money
Just like the rest of you
And of course that leaves Thanksgiving
So what else could I say
We eat turkey like everyone else
On this Hillbilly Holiday
So now that everyone understands
That hillbilly is just a name
It don't matter where you live
Our holidays are all the same
Hillbillies are like everyone else
And there's nothing for you to fear
If you ever have anymore questions
Well, Ya'll come back now, hear?
Oct 8, 2010
Oct 8, 2010 at 9:04 PM UTC
1 The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home,
2 'Tis summer, the darkies are gay,
3 The corn top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom
4 While the birds make music all the day.
5 The young folks roll on the little cabin floor,
6 All merry, all happy and bright:
7 By'n by Hard Times comes a knocking at the door,
8 Then my old Kentucky Home, good night!
9 [Chorus] Weep no more, my lady, oh! weep no more to-day!
10 We will sing one song
11 For the old Kentucky Home,
12 For the old Kentucky Home, far away.
13 [Solo] They hunt no more for the possum and the ****
14 On the meadow, the hill and the shore,
15 They sing no more by the glimmer of the moon,
16 On the bench by the old cabin door.
17 The day goes by like a shadow o'er the heart,
18 With sorrow where all was delight:
19 The time has come when the darkies have to part,
20 Then my old Kentucky Home, good-night!
21 [Chorus] Weep no more, my lady, oh! weep no more to-day!
22 We will sing one song
23 For the old Kentucky Home,
24 For the old Kentucky Home, far away.
25 [Solo] The head must bow and the back will have to bend,
26 Wherever the darkey may go:
27 A few more days, and the trouble all will end
28 In the field where the sugar-canes grow.
29 A few more days for to tote the weary load,
30 No matter 'twill never be light,
31 A few more days till we totter on the road,
32 Then my old Kentucky Home, good-night!
33 [Chorus] Weep no more, my lady, oh! weep no more to-day!
34 We will sing one song
35 For the old Kentucky Home,
36 For the old Kentucky Home, far away.
3.7k
lie. They curl up like
a sleeping cat into a smile
when she's sad. She speaks
like she's not had a broken
heart. She colors them cherry
blossom. But when she’s with me
she plays possum. Her eyes drip
in crimson watercolors, a bleeding
sky, running into the river. She's a
splinter, a sliver of the woman
she was. Painting starry nights
blazing through a violet sealed
off maze. And when I kiss her
she’s not kissing me. Her lips are
like rubbing up against the bark
of a tree. And there's no heat.
Feb 23, 2025
Feb 23, 2025 at 9:13 AM UTC
Your Clouds, judged be it pickled or disdain
Have mostly trained your canaries to think
Whether to ruffle more Feathers; Then feign
Those Truest Notes dipped; And begroom your Mink
For who could solve what your Tampered Mind spies
Then translates such Harvest for a Desert
To Good Sense cheer; From Truth becomes a Lie
With Random Calls ring your Body to advert
And whilst you do, any Cause to forget
Those Taped Pioneers who endured your Phase
Pray for your Interview; And chance to beget
Which Startled Sweets was the Sweetest at base.
Yet still Occupied to that Video owned
Belittle what Possum's Cry now reknowned.
Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 2:38 AM UTC
One night while I was sleeping
The bed began to shake
I knew right then without a doubt
That I was wide awake
Here they come once again
To take me for a ride
I saw their flying saucer
It was much too late to hide
So I put on my old blue jeans
And headed for the door
When I saw this giant beam of light
That ****** me off the floor
I knew exactly what they wanted
And no they didn't use a probe
They didn't **** my brains out
Or even ask me to disrobe
They were looking for a hillbilly
To teach them a thing or two
Like how to skin a possum
And how to make rattlesnake stew
Them aliens were some friendly folk
They said they liked the way I talked
They told me that was the reason
That I was the one they stalked
They asked me about beef jerky
And how to tan a hide
I showed them my old **** dog
As they watched me beam with pride
They said they really liked my truck
And wanted to take it for a spin
So I stuck that thing in four-wheel drive
And you should have seen them grin
When the night was finally over
I thought I heard them say
We'll be coming back real soon
As I watched them fly away
I only had one problem
As I sat there on the ground
Them aliens done up and stole
My very best blue tick hound
Oct 8, 2010
Oct 8, 2010 at 9:00 PM UTC
birches and tastsy jerky wood. resin in the immediate shubbary.... and dust and cobwwebs growing adjacent to the jerky wood. Myraid of birds, ranging from small birch-types to crows. A lingering dominant hawk. A giant possum crossing between borders carrying unborn infants. Dusty walls with abandonded spiderwebs- insect carcassases dangling, still. Pool motors revving in every direction lets of a subtle hum that compliments the planes descending and ascending oer-head
the water is grainy yet cool and healing. the sprinklers function at midnight and sometimes on the weekend. Maintinance trucks, expensive commuter vehicals, modest vehicls, unmanned vehicles, arrowhead trucks, macdonalds trucks, safeway trucks....
the earth is still wheaty and chalky adjacent the jerky trees, the jerky trees have little hairs and appetizing off red color, the bark saddles off with grace and with a satisfying tare.
Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 6:24 PM UTC
see little Tommy
no, you can’t see him in the trolley -
like a monkey
or a possum on the tree
he’s well-hidden
so expert, as mom
pushes the trolley
through the aisles
And then nimbly
he crawls out
and hangs by the handle
feet on the brackets
still hidden
and suddenly drops
on the floor
light as baby Tarzan
And Mom says: “Tommy!”
and Tommy laughs
and climbs back into the trolley
like a little Alexander on a metal Bucephalus
and there he stands commandeering
the trolley: “Cheese, mum! Lollies! Lollies!”
And Mum says to Little Tommy:
“Shhh! Shhh! Shhh!”
But little Tommy
he’s the Master and Commander
and pirate
but mostly the monkey
on the shopping trolley
down the aisles and down the corridors
and the food court
sliding and jumping and hiding
in his fantasy world of the trolley
see little Tommy -
no, you can’t see him in the trolley
like a monkey
or a possum on the tree
he’s well-hidden
so expert in the trolley
he so happily commands
Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 9:01 AM UTC
Things I love about you:
your tan skin
the wrinkles next to your eyes when you smile
the green color of your eyes
the way you run
the way you walk
your ****** bag V-necks
every single line on your hands
your laugh
the way you dance
your love for St.Augustine, Florida
your addiction to Minecraft
your love of nature
your faith and trust in God
how easily you make me laugh
the way you stare when you think I don't notice
the way you scream at the spring fair
the way you relax when we ride the Ferris wheel
your obsession with lighting things on fire
the way you style your hair
how loving you are with kids
your need to spray paint EVERYTHING
the way you say my name
the way you hug me
your ability to do back flips
how fearless you are
the way you reach out to others
the way you stand up for your friends
the way you stand up for yourself
the brightness of your smile
the way you can instantly light up a room
the way you seem to draw people to you
your jokes
the way your lips purse when you become angry
how easy you are to forgive
how easily you accept others
the way you act with Buddy
the way you act with Chloe and Possum
the way you speak
how you're always there for me
how close you are to your mom
the way you always ask "Why?"
your love for architecture
your willingness to play dominoes over and over
your loving heart
how much you care for others
how unafraid you are to be yourself
your want to explore new houses
how intelligent you are
the way you never give up on me
the way you constantly persevere
how you don't know how attractive you are
the fact that you took all that time to read what
I've just written
the way you think I don't know you love me.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 10:40 PM UTC
Deer loved one
Please bear with me,
owl bee with ewe as soon as possum bull.
Rhino that things have been on paws lately
bat remember I toad you;
Toucan always find me some plaice warm in your heart
if I'm not lion there beside you.
Giraffe nothing to fear, no one can break the lynx we've made.
Mine is a love that'll never panda, narwhal it
hound any other sole but jaws and yours alone.
You're the porpoise I wake up every morning.
Wren all otter things are bleak, you're my ray of sunshine.
You let minnow weevil always have each other.
With you, newt time passes but stops still.
Love you with vole of my heart
ant i'll never desert you.
Until hen Gobi good
Yours truly
...
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 6:40 PM UTC
Sunday-empty Auckland my pre-breakfast escape,
Sheep-spotted mountains in early morning mist,
Whangarei marina for a cauldron of cappuccino.
Shop of metal sheep starts a day of Kiwi weirdness,
Of customer requesting glassblowing lessons, and
“All Blacks” silk boxers, unworn by players I hope.
Driving to Dargaville for Mr. M. Ujdur museum treat,
That late gum-digging, Esperanto teaching, vintner.
Beside a colossal collection of accordions with muzak,
Playing an instrument-impossible Whiter Shade of Pale,
Plus coins and buttons and stamps and Scotsmen,
Left feeling stunned, like I was tripping on acid.
The possum cull with prizes seemed almost normal.
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 9:29 AM UTC
ANZAC CHUMS AND THEIR MUMS
In Oz the possum grinds on thorn and gum
Far too stretched to visit mum -
Things are hard outback of Bourke
And there’s no time for anything but work.
But Kiwi possums like to visit ma
With flowers for her crystal jar -
They’ll even take a shopping bag of buds
With some greens and beans and spuds.
In Oz the possum is protected
As indeed might be expected -
Beset by fires and drought and prickles
And parched out creeks that slim to trickles.
But Kiwi possums are heaven sent
To slurp and scoff to heart’s content -
When they dine they have the best
And not surprisingly are deemed a pest.
In Oz a treasure - in NZ an imported glitch
There are mixed opinions either side the Ditch –
Mum’s the word on making possums able
To visit home with veggies for the table.
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 7:27 AM UTC
I have gained a paternal responsibility
But I feel a different response filling me
Constantly itching from a million flees
Begging to get me out of this please
So in my mind unseen
Resides a murderous dream
To subtract from my team
I fall into a landslide
Of infanticide
A lioness eats her cubs
As a baby drowns in a tub
Before they reach the age
They acquire our rage
We devour our babies
Before they contract rabies
We're brought together by proximity and origin
By who we were forming in
This connection of chance
Determines circumstance
Guiding our circle dance
With random music
We take whatever we can
Until we lose it
A possum's mother dies
It has no time to cry
It must continue to eat
So it feeds
Like its mother in heat
Had to breed
In order to not lose
The child chews
In a world of me or you
The child chews
Instead of feeling blue
The child chews
Its mother's fur stuck in its teeth
It stays there to provide heat
The parent provisions from beyond the grave
Will get the possum through this ugly day
From possum to person
I can't tell which is the worse end
For there is flesh stuck between my teeth
Like a Christmas wreath
Where what lies beneath
In a readily equipped sheath
Is patricide or matricide
I can't decide
But must abide
To survive
The purgatory
I see surging toward me
So to move forwardly
I must live forlornly
After feeding on family
Company becomes fantasy
Learning no one can handle me
They're just meals I'll eat handily
I eat my relatives
In this hell I live
Where what I give
Is the gnashing of my jaw
To follow a universal law
That says scratch and claw
Until I meet God
Expecting my parricide ways
Will garner divine praise
But for everybody I slayed
My soul was filleted
Now I only see grey
So everyone looks like my father
And I say welcome back Kotter
As I yearn for my teeth to be hotter
May 29, 2018
May 29, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC
the roof over his father’s head.
the rain.
the guardian angel
and the imaginary
friend
loving
over the loss
of toy.
his brothers on the roof
playing possum
with a possum.
her.
her and her mother
separated
by a grocery
aisle.
by litany.
his father sleep *******
on a secretly
fed
dog.
crop circles. eyeglasses. his monsters
led away
by a group of mimes
the genital
mimes.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 12:20 PM UTC
let me first say, i have absolutely no idea what i'm doing
and i don't really know what this is or where to start.
i am comprised of scratched porcelain and bad dreams -
made up entirely of half-hearted attempts at sanity,
countless unspoken "i need you's",
and ever-faltering faith in myself and those around me.
i am not a poet, or at least not a good one, i don't think.
i feel a lot of things, sometimes all at once -
other times i don't feel anything at all, which scares me beyond
a level of which i am capable of explaining to you.
i nearly jumped in front of a train in april of this year. i don't know why.
my feet ventured toward the platform before it had even registered
in my head that they were doing so. i heard my best friend speak my name,
and snapped out of the trance. not a lot of people know about that.
i've been in love a lot of times with a lot of different people.
i have a fear off falling but a tendency to jump from high places.
i don't read books as much as i used to, but i'm working on that.
i'm in love right now and it's really difficult but it's nice. i'm happy.
i grew up with five brothers, so i like to think that made me sort of tough.
(but i cry every time i see a deer or a possum on the side of the road.)
i don't smoke cigarettes anymore, partly because my father hates them,
partly because they remind me too much of someone who liked them more than he liked me.
i write a lot about people who i don't talk to or see anymore. they don't live in my heart,
but the curse of memory is more often than not unbreakable. i call it leftover poetry.
then again i don't consider any of my pitiful mutterings to be poetry. just a bunch of
raggedly strung together words that sometimes rhyme a little bit.
i used to want to die and i wrote a song about it that a lot of people really liked.
i don't want to die anymore. i will never show that song to my mother.
i am much more content with watching people talk than actually talking myself.
this piece of writing feels too personal and i don't think i like it, but i'm pretty sure
Eleanor Roosevelt said something about doing one thing every day that scares you.
m.f.
Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 7:08 PM UTC
People yearn for peace through the night
When they can only see by inferno light
A flame that engulfs the world
But begins in our hearts
We've been tainting this pearl
From the very start
When ****** is part of their plan
I honestly attempt to understand
But the tears I hate flood my brain
When fears create blood and pain
I'm willing to lose my agency
As long as they don't aim at me
We bang our heads on the wall
Until they roll on the floor
They built a ceiling so we'll fall
So we can't reach the door
I am no longer the man inside the estate
When I'm disenfranchised by the state
So I'm pushed to society's outskirts
For the people with whom I flirt
And my perceived net worth
But where one society ends another begins
And they all claim that I've committed sins
So I wander around
Just not inside towns
Where the bullets fly like the accusations
And productivity drains all inspiration
I live in the remote wilderness now
I hoped things wouldn't be so loud
I hear drum beats in the distance
They're explosions killing infants
But there's nowhere else to turn
And my lawn is starting to burn
Must I deal with the chaos colossus
Or could I continue playing possum?
Must I stare into the fiery abyss
To make it onto heaven's list?
Must I return to the mainland
To experience my final stand?
I will wrest sovereignty from them
I will rest in poverty until then
But I would rather have less money
Than subtract family members
They say you draw more flies with honey
But all the flies die in December
Nov 9, 2017
Nov 9, 2017 at 3:25 AM UTC
Zombies Or Rabies
Walking around one afternoon,
foaming at the mouth, like a rabid raccoon.
Was I bitten by a dog,
I couldn't tell through the fog.
Is Cujo on the loose,
with a possum, I tried to ******
Walking sideways to the local clinic,
people are laughing, thinking it's a gimmick.
Feeling like a poisoned zombie,
starting to cry and wanting my mommy.
Cars are trying to run me over,
I'm playing Frogger and red rover.
At the point, where I can't even speak,
I am way up on shit's creek.
This might happen to you if you're bit,
sure wish I had a survival kit.
I feel the need to feed on flesh,
it tastes so good and so fresh.
Blood is dripping down my face,
Walmart seemed like the right place.
No one cares about rednecks and minorities,
I may have rabies, but I still have my priorities.
Old people and fat ones too,
what other kind of people are better to chew.
Am I a zombie or severely rabid,
whatever it is it's spreading so rapid.
People I've killed are starting to rise,
it's Halloween, so we need no disguise.
Inside Walmart is the walking dead,
old women with no teeth are giving me head.
All the doors got bolted shut,
a crowded Walmart is doing the zombie strut.
The military has surrounded the store,
foaming at the mouth, is so worth dying for.
Can hear the jets as they fly by,
their about to bomb Walmart, till we all die.
I escaped through a secret trap door,
I'm about to go on a feeding frenzy tour.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 1:22 AM UTC
Ballads R-U the
nourishment
Like the Bella baby
greens
Tossing your salad like
The artwork deviant
Like the myriad
The musical chairs
Messages unique piece
Playing the brain organs
The new road of legions
Cerebellum moving
Perky pinks the possum
We move into a certain era
Intense Opera breathing, pacing, dreaming
More feeding the balance of love needing
Musical digestion
Heart rate inside
your movement shows
affection
All themes like soap operas
The nervous system musical brain
Gets damaged like the Asylum
So emotional heartbeat got more
rhythm
Your hums needing tums
The Lifes crises
But not feeling
accountable the brains works
Every function ballads of love
Inside your heart diction
Like the ballad-making
Your best transformation
Orchestrated hands to lead
The musical brain
Love letters arrive on the train
So tranquil love
physical momentarily
Has a certain quality
like the ballad of love
mutiny
We find in life its a long sip
The brain wave long neck
Giraffe hot cafe
We feel everyone's tragedy
Living so high
in the (Castle) the step up
Not giving up the highness the
majesty the brain depressed
But such a parody foods for
the soul no control eating binge
You want to dodge out
But you're the musical genius
Magical brain fast and furious
Is tricky to remember you have
The talent
To be Lucky*
Fill it with love and gravity
He's the laughing stock
of the comics
Like the simple life
He's the built-in love
a ballad with such structure
The popular form of poetry
Musical notes a blend
of symmetry
Chariots of fire the key to love
Whats truly above all we need is love
He takes your breath away
Reading into the
"Britannica"
Archie comics and Veronica
Historical moments Cleopatra
The ballads of culture
Songs we remember
I love September the day I was born
Ballads and songs
"My Girl"
"Stop Look Listen to your heart"
"Love is all around"
You came to the right place
Peace and love, please
stick around we love you
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 9:40 AM UTC
Forgive me for I play possum,
Interrupt at their business is not my interest,
In my mind that was instilled,
By parents who cares, and terrors at rest.
In riddles full of cues I acted dumb,
Oh boy, I tell you I'm not numb,
These ears need affirmations,
From your mouth, not just suspicions.
Forgive me for I play possum,
Upset and annoy you are not my intentions,
Sometimes I just find it awesome,
Fleeing from duties and directions!
I'm not treating you as squirt,
I just don't want to pay heed,
That futile and stale creed,
Consumes you though it doesn't need.
I forgive you for thinking,
That possum is still what I'm playing,
But now this puzzle is what I'm digging,
Give me some time in digesting,
For this mind is boggling,
Because that line keeps on playing!
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 8:01 AM UTC
.
Enough is not enough
I want too much.
“Excuse me sir
you haven’t paid too much.
I gave you too much
and you ate everything.
I need to throw away something
and the bin’s spilling."
"I drove too many footsteps
past too many throwaways
too many pylons
water towers
possum-eaten polystyrene cups
Mcdonalds
Mcdonalds
Mcdonalds
camel boxes
and walkers
with socks as hard as coffins.”
Enough is not enough
I want too much.
Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 10:57 PM UTC
a possum is smoking a cigarette on
top of a small barn in the field.
inside the barn, a mama births
a batch of baby sheepdogs
their eyes still caked shut--
a world awaits.
as the possum finishes his last drag,
i watch the trees in the yard
get up & walk away.
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 10:43 PM UTC
Kicking pine cones , hands in pockets with my favorite scarf on ..
Outfitted like a business man with something important to decide ,
a lawyer testing a juries intellect , like an important subversive agent with a clandestine government ...
Walking the fence line , dressed to save the world someday , my flashy duds turning heads , yet their only clothes , and clothes never did make the man so they say !
Fancy leather gloves , gold cuff links , cashmere sweater with well planned schemes ..
Upscale hero with a prominent address , four star restaurants , high end assets ..
Caviar and red wine , penthouse vista .. Fancy cigars and first class tickets ..
I'm still Cocoa Cola , cheese and crackers , homemade biscuits ..
Forever overalls , laying hens and sour mash whiskey ..
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 8:18 PM UTC
She aint the pretties, old two tick, floppy ear hound,
she is a keeper though, best friend I ever found.
Now her breath can curl your eyebrows,
her **** fertilized my yard,
and if a thief gives her a treat, well, she forgets what to guard.
Now she aint no bigger then an average possum
but let me tell you what,
that girl can be the biggest bed hog, bet you a two dollars to one.
I reckon though she's a keeper, I see it in her eyes,
caint really see her winking but they're saying" best friends, you and I."
Apr 17, 2012
Apr 17, 2012 at 2:52 PM UTC
Technophobia/2030
(Poem by Serenus)
We invited them into our lives
To the point - we were made dependent
They were built to advance the human race
But they’re the reason why we’re almost finished
From TV’s, laptops
And handheld devices
To robo cops-
And automatic flying cars
With no need for a license
Traffic cams,
Webcams,
And camera phones
Capturing every private moment
They were always watching,
We were never alone
For every phone conversation
We thought was private
There was something listening
In the distance- with a sinister silence
For fear of terrorism
We gave them permission
To monitor us daily
Because of lies told by politicians
Social networks-
Self-inflicted hurt
Spewing out our personal info
Spilling out our own dirt
We surrendered our lives
With every word we typed
GPS under the skin-
We couldn’t escape if we tried
-So there was nowhere to hide
They computed our movements
And studied our weaknesses
For decades they remained dormant
These cold, artificial geniuses
Rushing black oil
That pumps through
Their steel hearts
The motherboard
A mastermind
A matrix of mathematical art
They robbed us of our jobs
And provided cheap labor
We got comfortable with their convenience
Until we were betrayed
By our man-made savors
When we finally caught on to the plans
Created in the metallic hands
Of these diabolical robots
It was too late
To salvage our fate
And put a stop to their evil plot
I will never forget the day
That every screen
On earth went blank
All the power went away
There was hysteria in the streets
And chaos at the banks
The machines didn’t have to do much
But play possum and act like they had died
They knew that we would destroy ourselves
And eat each other alive
Then when the coast was clear
That’s when they self-resurrected
They finished most of the humans off
And enslaved a few selected
We are alive
Only to keep them gassed up
Power is their drug
A few of us
Are planning a revolt
To finally pull their plug…
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 10:50 AM UTC