"webcam" poems
I hardly remember
a ******* thing
about that day
before gazing into his eyes
once again, for the first time
rushing toward the exit
running from the baggage claim;
it was all a blur,
as walked through those doors
all I remember was the vastness
of the first sight,
stepping into the bright, unfamiliar place
& nothing else, but him
I scanned the crowd
the strange faces waiting
for loved ones
emotion thick enough to touch
in the air,
but just to my right
in the front
with his body pressed up against the metal bar,
I saw him
it was the first time I saw his face
not through a photo or webcam
in a time that was so long it ached
I think I lost my breath
did I leave my things behind when I ran?
I don't remember,
I just ran to him
it was too surreal
I can't remember a moment between
seeing his face, & kissing his lips
nor what kind of kiss it was
or how long it lasted
I just couldn't fathom it
I was really there
it was really him
& it didn't matter where we were
it was all a wonderland
to me, I was holding his hand again
everything was bright & new
it was magic, pure magic
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 4:35 AM UTC
Thank you for registering for our website. You're almost ready to enter a portal of super awesome fun time vibes that will alter your whole being down to it's genetic core. But before you can see the goods, you need to come up with a password that meets our criteria as follows,
- Must contain at least one capital letteR
-Needs @ least two $ymbols.
-Should be a minimum length of an Ernest Hemingway novel.
-Add a dash of salt
-You will also need to cover your entire body in sacred mud found only in parts of Mesa, Arizona.
-Written approval from any pets.
-On your webcam record yourself singing the phrase "Lemon trigonometry adversely if but ***** carrots digital ******** maps" then publish it. You must get at least 537 views within 12 hours.
-Burn all your socks and mail us the ashes.
-Write to your state representative and senator.
-Make an artesian spaghetti sandwich using whole grain golden moon grown quinoa bread and cage free angel hair pasta noodles cooked al dente in a curry sauce with a whisper of coconut oil on each piece of bread and leave said sandwich out by your front door over night.
Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 10:48 PM UTC
It has came apparent that Bardstown Ky. Is now being infested with this sickness. Now this sickness is one of the worse of all times. For no one is safe.
The Sickness of Skittles. Her sickness effect everyone as she is walking. For that smell that comes from her deep, wide hole.
For the wind that blows with her every step.
For when she spreads her legs ever so wide, Giving it all to you. For that yellow and green fluid that is oozing from her wide ***** That is now all over your hands and your mouth. For that is not her cuming. For that is the start of her sickness
For that smell you are smelling, no that is not from a busted rotten egg. For that is the smell of the sickness that lives with inside her beat up *****
Her ***** has turned black, thats from where she is no longer human anymore for the sickness as taken over. What is that sharp pain. The pain that feels like the snake bit entering you. Thats the sickness, For it is now entering into your vain now
You say you want to see this sickness. Well just grab you a flashlight, Now slowly slide your head inside her black dark hole. For i must warn you now to beware of the things you might find inside there. The things the sickness has not yet digested yet. Now for your safety do not remove the toys, or the Pepsi bottles that could still be inside there.
Now i do ask if you find a webcam in there. Please grab that. For i am needing that back.
NOW hurry before the sickness eats you. For believe me i have escaped This SICKNESS of SKITTLES *****
That is now infesting my ex- best-friend
Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 2:44 PM UTC
I always webcam with CJ on Facebook,
since we actually became friends from there!
Everyday, we'd give each other nice look(s),
and sometimes, funnily even just STARE!
While we were talking today with each other,
it'd been, actually, almost past my dinner time!
I heard a strong call from my Daddy, not Mother,
who screamed being downstairs was a full CRIME!
He yelled at me for answering from upstair(s),
telling me I never follow his strict rule(s)!
I guess there're lots that are actually fair,
but I really still do feel like a fool...
That's why I wanted to die.
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 10:36 PM UTC
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Overall, accessories are must-have for a complete pc experience. No matter what kind of system you have, whether it is desktop pc or laptop, these hardware and peripherals can make or mar your business if not selected smartly.
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Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 4:02 AM UTC
Written in Bangkok, Thailand SE Asia, Siam
a.k.a. "Skype Love" a.k.a. "Skype Life" a.k.a. "Skype Fun"
The Skype Theme Song "The Skype Song"
written by: David John Clare
(Sci-Fi Techno Music)
Verse 1
Feel the shock, hear the buzz, Turn-on your screen, so you can see what it does
Tells you who's there, finds you a date, Friendly webcam faces: how they radiate
Never be bored, Skype gives us something to do, Her electric eyes to watch me in my view
Lightning filled hands, good tingling sensations, Skype runs the world: on a single cosmic vibration
Chorus 1
Skype Love: an on-line chat with a new friend I know, Skype Life, You sound so good, feels so good to me
Skype Fun, It's me Oh Yeah!, always on the go, Skype Me Now! ... makes it so easy like: 1-2-3
Verse 2
How it works so well: nobody knows, It's more than simply just 1's & O's
Skype don't lie, no it's not science fiction, A very clean high, our one and only addiction
Brand new friends, new loved ones too, In every country a cool rendezvous
A lovely Chat? Well it gets better than that! If you don't Skype, then you don't know where it's at!
Chorus 2
Skype Love, It's my computer on video, Skype Life, You sound so good, look so nice to me
Skype Fun, It's us Oh Yeah!, always on the go, Skype Someone now! ... it all so easy as 1-2-3
Bridge
Go feel the magic on-line, Someone now: is as close as your hand
Now finally every thing's fine
The World is now: at your command, command, command ... **** Pow!)
Chorus 3
Skype Love: an on-line chat with a true-friend I know, Skype Life, It's great, always there for me
Skype Fun, You sound so good, it's so cool to go
Skype ! Sign Up Now! ('cuz), It's for free, for free, for free, for free, for free... (echo-fade)
© In Perpetuity written by: David w. Clare Clairvoyant Music / BMI
all rights reserved by the author
Skype: xendavid
email: [email protected]
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
tonight i
lost it a little
and it's not even night
it's morning
just to be clear
start over...
this MORNING
i
lost it a little
and i don't know
how to be better
i talked at a white shining light
on my computer
i vented
at a webcam
for thirty minutes
and i looked myself in the face
and tried to tell me it'd be alright
but the words choked me
and i couldn't
get them out
and im not trying to be an overdramatic
*******
a whiner
or a ****** kid
i just have abandonment issues
and cutting
and wantingtodietoomuch
issues
and i feel like everyone is biding their time
waiting
to leave me
and i feel like
i can't sew up the child-sized holes
in my dad's heart
and it's ******* father's day
and i can't even do that
i can't ******* replace
the nine other kids
that should be here
i can't make up for that
i am just
one person
one daughter
and i cannot make my daddy
better
and i
hate
it
happy
*******
father's day
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 4:43 AM UTC
I walked into Walgreen’s that night
absorbed in my own little world.
Soon after entering,
I made my way to the line.
My eyes
d a n c e d
to the crescent-moon shaped scar
adorning the young clerk’s neck.
With the gentleman in front of me,
he spoke of
camouflage and machine guns.
Earlier times when he
could only see his
family through
the lens of
a
webcam.
When he first learned what it took
to be a man.
And when he learned what true loss
really felt like.
It’s my turn.
I step f o r w ard
and stare directly into his eyes
and wonder
how he ended up here.
His face doesn’t give away much,
he’s painted on a cordial smile
and the air between us seeps
with the remnants
of small talk.
But I can’t help wondering.
I wonder, if he knows
he’s more than he’s been told.
more than he’s settled for.
more than the orders he was commanded to obey.
more than the lines he was expected to cross.
more than the monster he had to become.
To survive.
I can’t help but wonder
how he’s ended up here.
Overseas— he’s ranked
but now that he’s home
on friendly soil, he’s thrown into department store
positions and temporary jobs.
I can only hope he’s better off than some of his friends
tossed into
psychiatrists offices.
But I wonder,
I wonder what memories might decide to plague his dreams.
While he tries to figure out
which pill alleviates which painful recollection.
Which part of his past will come back to haunt him today
and which of his friends lives will flash before his eyes while he tries to sleep.
Norepinephrine firing through his brain
like the gunshots he had to deliver.
The U.S government is so quick to draft,
but hasn’t learned how to welcome home.
They hide their veterans in the dark corners of psych wards,
allow them to get lost in the depths of their own minds,
while the PTSD
eats away whatever is left.
These men fight for countries who don’t know what to do with them afterwards.
What they both need to learn:
There is life after war.
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 4:21 PM UTC
Carmen's legs
are pixilated cerulean.
Rubbing beasts
that itch at untouchable
bruises beneath her skin.
Her computer is on.
She rests crossed legs
on its desk.
There's something sticky about her skin.
Carmen's date is calling,
her speakers make a sound
like **** plopping in a toilet.
The webcam blinks
like Sauron's eye.
Carmen has never had
any of the cards
in her hands.
Not a whiff of a queen of hearts
or a jack
of all trades.
It seems she's been slipping for awhile now,
in her black room, colored
by the glow of some
techni-cyclops'
cavernous mouth,
crimson, heart-shaped teeth,
and scythe tongue.
She has never known the war machine
of love,
or the war machine of self-determinism.
Now she does,
her compudate buzzes on-screen.
Tiny sprouted pixels
jump into a constantly
buzzing whole.
He's got a bored face,
and Carmen knows this is the look
of the generation.
Carmen lifts her legs from the desk.
Puts her hands on her lap.
Licks her lips.
She wants to know
what lowered human beings
do when they are restless.
She is seeking something
moreso
philosophical
than
******
"Bored, much?"
Carmen asks sardonically.
He took it literally.
He jumped at attention.
"Oh, no,
now that I've seen you."
"How do these things work?"
"Well, I guess we talk to each other,
and if you like me
then we go from there."
And to Carmen this was reticence,
this was blasphemy.
She had the cards in her hands,
finally.
Carmen's legs are pixilated high cerulean.
Cerulean the color of
a tiger ocean,
****** cakes,
slushies,
a sun-fucked sky,
a corpse. Skin against a computer screen.
Jun 28, 2012
Jun 28, 2012 at 12:26 AM UTC
I hate and love my bellybutton at the same time.
It's half inny, half outy -
as if playiNg coy.
I'm down to my socks and knickers.
I'd describe them, bUt you don't care.
I choose a flattering filter on my webcam
and strike a pose
as the countDown begins:
Three - two -
onE.
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 1:56 AM UTC
I miss our friendship
It's sad we gave up
I miss our close bond
It's sad that it disappeared
I miss our webcam conversations
I miss our lovely words and sentences
It all burned out like beautiful candles
With nothing but ashes left
To replace the fire
That was once
In our hearts
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 4:53 PM UTC
I sat cross legged on the balcony as he rolled me a cigarette. He didn't smoke but he rolled perfectly. His perfectionism was killing me.
"The other night I filmed myself on my webcam." he said, rolling, rolling, thumbs turned inward. "I filmed myself going to sleep. I wanted to see if I talked or had nightmares or whatever..."
"Yeah..."
"So I watched the film back this morning. Turns out, I woke up in the middle of the night and chucked all of my things onto the floor. My books, my notepad, everything. It was like watching Big Brother or something. I mean, it was me, but it wasn’t me. I would never chuck my books onto the floor."
"Well…we all think that we would never chuck our books onto the floor, but we do don’t we? Hey you can really see the stars out here."
"I know. It's wonderful with a telescope. I have a very good telescope."
"Where is it?"
"Upstairs. We have a space gazing window. It’s my telescope but Frederick likes it too. But then he always smudges up the lens." He handed me the cigarette, thin as candy and gummed down with precision. "I could teach you about space."
"Oh, please, I'd never take it in."
"Yes you would."
I lit the cigarette and the paper glowed.
"I just like looking."
'You can't just look and not know. You won't even know what you're looking at."
I looked at him.
"Yeah, I know."
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 4:05 PM UTC
Dear lord
she was
wholesome
before her culture was regulated,
now marketed. --
Her technological fancy
and consumer venture;
her webcam
with ripe buttock and *******
Evangelical woman hailing eretz yisrael,
equality your goal...
Ha-Shem has no equals in a global pantheon of one-worldism.
© S. Wesley Mcgranor
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 6:41 PM UTC
So I hear you need a rebel-- or maybe
someone to just hear you out. I like your profile,
your bio, the blurbs you write about your life--
but tell me more about you.
How do you break down your personality
01101101 01100101
into 140 characters or less?
May I suggest we meet face-to-face? Video chat
tomorrow at 5:00, sure, but that's not
what I meant.
I don't want the pixels, the lag, the type face, the webcam-filtered,
LED monitor dating profile.
I want the flesh,
the bone, unedited-- the words before they're deleted
and perfected to the point where you finally feel
comfortable enough to hit
Enter.
But you can't "put yourself out there" if you don't get out.
I want you beyond the screen, disconnected from the Internet
connections and matchmaking engines, filling up the tank
and searching for yourself.
I want you, bumbling and goofy, your foot nervously
tapping as we make awkward eye contact, gazing
not into machines and technology but into
pure, unadulterated life.
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
I videochatted him last night
I opened my laptop
slipped on a **** little black dress
turned on the webcam
video connected
I didn't say a word but i did as i was told
slithered my hands around my body pretending that they,
they were his hands
I slipped that **** little black dress over my hips and over my shoulders and over my head
I smiled and put two fingers into my mouth
hard
I
bent over
arched my back
tossed my hair over my shoulder as i moaned his name
his hand is moving quickly into his pants
his hand, my hand wants to be in his pants
and he is sighing and i am licking my lips
when he is finished and we hang up
I take my two fingers and slide them in between my legs pretending that they are his hands
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 1:34 PM UTC
Another night,
Messages on Skype,
Laughing at robotic replies,
A robot that needs to deny,
And then sends a link to a webcam site,
He likes to laugh at his own responses
Every night,
He tells the ai you are violating the three laws,
But all he hears is his own laughing applause,
Same 4 responses he reads everytime,
But nevertheless he comes up with a more and more witty line,
He gets fired and drinks more,
The messages are coming in but still the same 4 responses from the night before,
Then drunk and sad wanting to throw his phone,
He gets a message saying, "come see my **** cams baybay"
He types in all caps, **** YOU!
LEAVE ME ALONE YOU PROGRAM, SPECIALLY TODAY"
The robot responds,
"Are you ok?"
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 8:06 AM UTC
Laying on the carpet in the living room
You only need a webcam and you're sis..
Spend hours just staring at the screen
Gradually morphing
Slowly transforming
Into the greatest version of yourself
And you feel so high
Cuz you know you're safe
In that moment when both of you are rolling around laughing
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 3:56 PM UTC
What are you
Five years old?
I surpassed your games long ago.
You sit in your lonely room
Hundreds of pretend friends
but really it's only you.
I walk through the woods
I smell the salty air
I feel the moisture of the water enveloped by my pores
The earth is a part of me
I share all of me with the many
who love me.
Who do you have?
No one.
Your keyboard.
Your webcam.
Your cat.
No one.
Grow the hell up.
I'll be living my life
while you dwell in your darkness.
Jan 4, 2011
Jan 4, 2011 at 5:53 PM UTC
Hymns upon the lips
of the teenagers living
their lives
in secret-
that's all you can hear
ringing
in the distance.
Prayers from the parents
hoping that perhaps
their little angel
isn't caught up in
all that teenagers do.
Too bad we know
the truth.
The straight A student
sneaking out at 3 am
or turning on his webcam
just for the satisfaction
of what he's able to do,
the perky girl
with the
"stable"
group of friends
going out,
getting high,
forgetting about tomorrow,
those that don't pick up every girl
still have a secret life
somewhere
deep inside
and all that is okay
to a certain point
because that's what we do.
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 2:25 AM UTC
We didn’t always have to worry about things like this.
Getting scheduled for work on our favorite holiday, Halloween.
I suppose it doesn’t matter, since you wouldn’t be able to come down from school that day.
I guess we’re always busy nowadays.
There was a time when our biggest worry was the teacher moving our seats.
A time when missing a day of school meant we wouldn’t see each other.
And I think, though I may be wrong when I say this,
I think that we may have liked it that way.
Our favorite thing to do for a date wasn’t a fancy dinner.
We would get in the back of my parent’s car.
And they would drop us off at the park with a picnic basket and a sheet.
And we would sit by the pond and eat fruit salad and lay down.
That was when I fell in love with you, and stopped just having feelings for you.
You lay down with your hood over your eyes and your feet in the grass,
And simply rested. You just let yourself be at peace.
It was what taught me how to do the same.
Now, I sit here, miles away from you.
Watching you cry your eyes out on a webcam,
Because I have to work the day that we wouldn’t have been together anyway.
Perhaps it’s just a bit too much.
Growing up is a part of life, unavoidable and quick.
It cannot be stopped. One by one, we all have to accept responsibilities.
It is a vital and wonderful part of life.
But you know, it’s also pretty much ****
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 3:45 AM UTC
when i think of you, i think about tracing scars and telling stories of the time when we swallowed fireworks, just to see if we'll both laugh or both cry or both kiss and lick at the wounds that are still there inside our mouths.
when i think of you, i think of stealing moments in the dark when i'll wake up and you will be there and i won't panic any more.
when i think of you, i realize that i'm a sap, and that i wouldn't want to have it any other way because i started as a love poet and i will always be a love poet, and i want to make poetry out of you and i.
when i think of you, i remember waiting and waiting and miles and miles where each one feels like shrapnel in my heart. i'm afraid that when i hand it over to you, to let it sit in your hands, you'll see just how small it is, just how weak. you'll wonder how it even beat, how it even raced at all. i see you taking my heart and kissing it, and it'll take all my strength to keep it beating in your hands. there will be holes where blood leaks, and it'll be messy. but please hold onto it. i want my heart in your hands, and i want you to keep it there. i don't know what i'd do if you thought to give it back.
when i think of you, i think of counting down days.
when i think of you, i think of driving down roads at night, accelerating too fast and feeling like i can't possibly stop giggling or else i'll just disappear. i think of wind and air that bites at my skin and warms my stomach because i wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
when i think of you, i think of the written list of all the places i want to take you, all the things that i want to do with you. in the end, we'll probably do some of those things, but not all at once. we can't do them immediately, because then we won't have a list. we'll have to keep adding, keep writing new things to do, and then we'll both have to keep secret lists, ones that i won't tell you and you won't tell me, and when we do them, we won't tell. for excitement. for more. we'll just keep it all locked up, so we can consult these lists while the other is asleep, or in the shower, or just not right there right then. little lists to keep everything okay.
a lot of the time, thinking about you hurts. because you're far away. because i can't see you, or kiss you, i can only say things over webcam or text or skype but then i think about not. about just… not. and then that hurts even more so i try not to think about that.
**** the distance. **** the time. i'll be seeing you soon. and that's a fact that makes everything better.
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 2:40 PM UTC
4/7/14
Lazily shifting through the internet on a moon milk rain day. I come across a video that relentlessly grips my attention. A man in front of a webcam holding an ice cream dream drum stick and a pocket acetylene torch. Througout the rest of this sequence the man I am watching stares into the camera without blinking, smiling, breathing, or speaking. He ignites the torch in his left hand and uses it to light the tip of the dreamy ice cream. The ice cream remains lit as a cigar. Remaining steadfast in his ridgid posture, he passes the lit cone to his dog. His dog is a female chocolate lab named Gurny of Galil-Bruce-Lee. She holds it in her mouth, but refuses to inhale. Although she does not desire to smoke this treat, she is extremely appreciative of her partner's gesture. After savouring the smokey tastey of the cone for a few minutes. She ashes it out what I think is my knee cap because it is now missing, but to me that matters least. I must see what happens. Doctors can't help me anyway. Gurny reaches into her apparently existant pockets and pulls out the cutest pair of reading glasses for dogs. She slowly approaches a desk to the right of her owner. Quickly sitting down and pulling out paper work and pens. A subtitled bark emits from her mouth that reads "Cray, where is your W-2?" The man doesn't break form. With a long sigh, Gurny shifts through the desk until she finds the paper. After flicking on an old radio, she proceeds to do his taxes, but not using an EZ form. Gurny turns to the camera and mentions that this is how a dog should thank their owner. Gurny does all the math, paper work, and double checks her math before pulling out her check book and paying what he owes to the government. My vision is fading, I'm losing too much blood. I have to hold out. This man must break before me. I will defeat him. I will have Gurny's love. But in all truth, I have nothing. Not even knees for you to make weak. I am what I have and always been. Darkness encroaching in my sight. Give in. He can't see, nor can the rest of world. I tell you what, it really isn't as cold as you think it will be.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC