"prosodic" poems
together we sit and scan through pages
searching for knowledge of savants and sages
apart by wires and spaces deemed cyber
together in some places besotted by desires
for that which you seek and that which you share
your hasty interests may lead you to stare
into the abyss of the nets' unending
the maelstroms vortex you'll soon be winding
going ye here and going ye there
hopeful your meanderings
shall leave you fair
for within some sites there's the inveigle snare
ultimately constructed to leave you bare
go wittingly into the all- electric fray
some sensitive toes you'll invariably belay
don't fret over words harmlessly mislaid
to err is only human, short-circuits allayed
Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 9:39 PM UTC
As wires round the world get lighter and thinner
Your news scroll feeds you various homicides,
From desktops at noon to plasma at dinner,
The auto-cue scrolls through this week’s most viral.
The network fail to mention the other seven billion
Who kept living their life devoid of such sinning.
Disquiet on your perch, picture your pleasure:
Hopping alone, around your enclosure.
The window slides up, wind ruffles your feathers.
Beak to the bars, you're helplessly tethered.
Yell 'til you're heard, ’til you’re hoarse and unkempt,
Yell 'til the neighbours are mad and hell bent.
Step back to your pedestal, tapping your feet,
The rhythm you summon traverses the streets.
Nearby inhabitants sit watching their screens,
Warn-out, occupied, unfulfilling their dreams.
Tip-tap-a-tip-tap-a-tip-tap away the evening and next day.
Now you live vicariously through social media,
You cannot stop tweeting, lonelier… lonelier.
Connections you make get quicker and quicker.
‘Life is the greatest’ upon appearances,
You pick and you carve a residual image;
The best fools fool themselves into submission,
Post exponentially, build on your rhythm;
Second life, third face, prosodic yet speechless,
Your diary now echoes, empty and featureless.
Stare at your screen, silent and grinning;
Hive mind rewired, this story needs spinning.
Forget losing face, that farcical demeanour.
The needle wobbles on your false life fever,
As sunlight exposes where your cage is broken,
The tether is loose but you're past noticing.
Shared knowledge free of charge, constantly flowing,
Ignore others' viewpoints, or pleas to come in.
The glass in the window is brilliantly glowing,
There's fire outside that your posts have been stoking.
White noise, connection lost, you're no longer hosting
That multi-channel, fibre-optic, bandwidth expansion.
Untether your Ethernet, the cage disappears
Find sanctuary outdoors when quiet is near.
The caged bird tweets devoid of all reason,
Fooling itself about its own lack of freedom.
May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 9:15 AM UTC
We are the dream world.
How beautiful the world would be if there were no great men or saints and virgins and wisest or the kindest and the mercifullest and the sorcerers or the scientists or the philosophers or the murderers or the rapists .
As in, if none knew each other.
If,co existence was a celebrated event.
Everyone on earth packing, and moving, and settling, more than a dozen times an year. Government computers relocating everyone in ease, and earning and sheltering. The main idea of survival was to celebrate all of it. Or, better be an entity of the whole earth. Pack and move and change the setting whenever an emotional turmoil emerged. This routine was just not, not possible, but proved out to be the best world any a baby can be born into.
So darned welcoming.
The world today that we have is anti-life. Borders forces and military and taxes and police all to guard, none to serve. Today you are reminded that you'll die any moment, for each moment of being alive. And then, maybe your body can be eaten by better wormes or burns.
Nobody wants to celebrate life. Forget about the pandas ******* a li'l lesser this year or about signing the campaign against government to support anti-natural planning campaigns, or that lesser people are celebrating the monstrous virtue of pity to hang another's redemption by feeling proud in his disgusting a state. Or perhaps you might say global warming, is amazing. Its deadly. This ******* earth has been subject to all kinds of Celestial, rapists, murderers, cheap killers, dons, mafia, assassins , corpses and lunatics. And, these notorious ones being of space, increased their strength by thousand folds and got **** names too. Asteroids, meteors, meteor showers and space explosions to name a few.
And, to assert it, earth has been surviving all these unguarded events for so long of a huge chunk of its existence without we chipping in.
See !
We are insignificant.
Try, living your own life.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
Launch a caustic haiku turned flailed terzanelle
Three lines of blather from a piqued poet’s feather
Skillful syllables omit nature; gone straight to hell
Obsession sketching rhythms rhyme then measure
An ink blot parking lot commencing to swell
Three lines of blather from a piqued poet’s feather
Jot, “Not the verse that got away!” I yell
Prosodic and onomatopoeic
An ink blot parking lot commencing to swell
Fingertips that linger quips mythopoeic
Bring monochroic wars of subtle allure
Prosodic and onomatopoeic
My iambic pentameter’s amateur
I’m done with these words, ink, terms altogether
Bring monochroic wars of subtle allure
To ponded frog on a bough’s frond, any weather
Launch a caustic haiku turned flailed terzanelle
I’m done with these words, ink, terms altogether
Skillful syllables omit nature; gone straight to hell.
A. Paige White 6/1/20
Jun 1, 2020
Jun 1, 2020 at 10:47 PM UTC