"spammers" poems
Where are you Paul?
I'm in Cyberspace Mum.
My Pentium processor has broadbanded me
Into this wondrous realm.
A pixel powered virtual landscape
Peopled by avatars
Speaking Internet Slang.
FFS, *** are you talking about?
She asks.
In so many words.
I **** and ROFL at her incredulity.
It’s full of danger, that Internet, says Mum.
That’s true.
It’s full of paedophiles,
Spammers and trolls.
Hackers.
Chat-rooms and forums
Plagued by flame-wars
And spam enough to fill a trillion tins.
Sites full of viruses, Trojans, malware and spyware.
Cyber-bullies and loons abound.
But I just Love it.
A ****** addiction
Needing every fix.
A realm indeed of quantum singularities,
And imploding nebulae.
Paul Butters
(C) PB 3\9\2011 in Yorkshire.
Sep 5, 2011
Sep 5, 2011 at 11:09 AM UTC
What if machines ruled the world?
Whatever would there be?
If surgeons were all robots, without knowledge.
Just controlled by programmers.
Whose programs could be manipulated by international spammers.
All out to make a rapid buck.
What if all the soldiers were not human,
If all of them were robots.
What on Earth would be?
I guess with robotic soldiers, no soldier boys and girls would die.
The robots could battle each other.
No need to worry about hurting each others fathers or cursing their mothers
What if they became corrupted?
What ever would we do?
What if these metal and plastic maniacs ran amok?
Maybe a power surge, at the wrath of Thor and his thunderstorms,
Their circuits may be rather short.
A corral full dying robots, successfully caught.
Awaiting decommissioning by their human masterminds.
(C) Livvi
Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 7:28 AM UTC
Is HP now a T.V guide?
It drives me to distraction
to see these adds on the front page
when I want some poem action.
Our poets are all writing
and posting stuff to read
but the room is being taken up
by adds for crap tv.
So listen up dear spammers
this warning you should heed
shove your ****** adverts
anywhere but on my feed!!
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 2:16 PM UTC
This is great website, and I've met some lovely writers, and I hope to I meet even more - but *** are all these preaching comments???
I've never met a writing place with so many unofficial spammy preachers!!!
I don't need ******* preaching at!!!
How do you know I need salvation - maybe I'm already saved - have you thought about that? Or maybe I'm just a blind idiot in your opinion. But either way your pointless unfriendly and ungodly manner has zero effect. You've never met me - you know nothing about me. From now on anyone who spam comments and preaches on my work gets instantly blocked - use your energy elsewhere.
And here's another thought: what if what I write is called creative writing - heard of that before have you? Not everything I write is about me, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who does that.
Apologies to all the kindly beautiful writers on here - it takes a lot make me have a swearing rant, I guess I've just ruined my kind reputation. Just had enough of the spam **** and in my real life I NEVER tolerate idiots, and I won't here either.
I don't mind the mention of God as a personal view, I'm not God phobic, no problem with that, but just don't leave messages as though I know nothing and I need saving - I **** well don't.
Your sincerely
One very ****** off writer
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 7:32 AM UTC
calling IV
calling all truck drivers
calling all car dealers
all scuba divers
all potato peelers
all mothers
all sons
all brothers
calling all who’ve won
all losers, users, and just
all perusers of rusty lust
calling all criminals
all those who’ve tussled and cussed
calling all mechanics
and all whom, in them, trust
calling all politicians
for i must
beg of ye to see this infinity in we
calling all ministers of high finance
all fragile tendencies toward your dance
with your blossoming children
and their salty breezes
their blown into kerchiefs
and their seizing sneezes
seeing you as you carry them toward
our unifying dust
i hold no ill will toward that soil you till
i’ve passed around your notes, your bonds,
and your bills
i’d thought i’d be one of you ‘til i met a few untils
love your children, and love yourself,
for they shall carry your ashes
into a box upon a shelf
that dust behind all wealth
calling all foxes, dogs, cats, chickens, and beetles
all sages, rosemary, spikes, and needles
all wages, incendiaries, wallops, and weebles
all pages, all poets
all police, all panthers
all those battling fires
without and within
all those atop towers
all whom are twins
calling all wheels
upon all surfaces
all of those mired
in a sense of worthlessness
calling all kings
calling all nations
calling all jordan’s, americas, and native stations
we’re writing too much blood
into not enough ground
we’ve survived our flood
and are forever bound
calling brother abel and brother cain
father abraham and mother pain
you’ve traumatized me
from all this blood you’ve lain
i see peace in all your eyes
blown to pieces in terrorizing replies
calling all consumers, producers, unionizers, and managers
corporations, and not for profit planners
all doctors, nurses, clients, and programmers
advertisers, marketers, bloggers, and spammers
all engineers of damns, bridges, and destructions
those who fell they’re ****** due to their suctions
i’ve sensed a fragile beauty in your moistened orbs
you all carry
i beg of you all to come from love
lay down your swords
i beg you not tarry
come women laying into asphalt
come scientists predicting san andreas’ fault
come widows, charlatans, and poets of trite
all ye poets weeping into ye hands
all ye poets of darkness and light
perfect light and darkness are myths upon this earth
just as perfect black and white
are myths spun from history’s dearth
Apr 12, 2016
Apr 12, 2016 at 7:27 PM UTC
clandestine calculations on ticker tape streamers
add to up to nothing in the vast scheme of time and space
when words fall from trees like levees breaking,
**** it
girl scouts to the rescue, if cookies can float
lined with sand bag intentions while rising waters
recede faster than the hairline of the mayor pro tem
collecting donations as his sister jumps rope
tied to the anchor of his city washing down the street
cleaning the gunk and glitz from gutter spammers
stealing passwords and paper boats
from unsuspecting children taking the day off from school
because the rains came and lemon trees no longer leaked
when anyone was looking,
ah lemon trees,
very pretty
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 10:28 AM UTC
*Used, refused, confused,
unheard, frustrated, broken,
when they slammed their doors,
I tried, cried, hurt with their attitude!
Eloped with the God,
and dwelling in a poetic land,
with no hurt, no pain, no judging,
built a peaceful, abode in solitude!
Decorating dancing syllables,
singing rhymes, humming poems,
showered with unconditional love,
nearby flowing the river of gratitude!
A knock at the door by the slammers,
Undulations by emotional spammers,
Unwelcomed! Should I let them in?
Or I keep my door closed, being rude?*
***Indifference!
Enjoying solace!
The poetic dance!
The divine romance!***
Aug 5, 2017
Aug 5, 2017 at 8:48 AM UTC
A payphone,
Paid for with time and energy
All my change I spend on you
Released from the caller's heart
An already safed contact,
Feeling like an anonymous number,
Ignored like spammers
"Call me back" left on voicemail
Hanging loose from the box
Still waiting-
more days to come
Feb 16, 2025
Feb 16, 2025 at 5:29 PM UTC