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"webcams" poems
Distance has a particular way of hurting: It begins slowly, and is self-contained. Because our mothers would often speak about Love, and how everything falls helpless in Love, Distance becomes a housebroken dog. It is powerless, and whilst I love, I am powerful. On Sunday, our fathers would teach us to put our faith in things unseen, and so we grow confident and complacent. Just when you think you’ve understood it, It sinks its teeth in hard and deep. An idealist tries to make it out light and easy They will often write poems about finding ideal love in the real world. But I will write about knowing real love misplaced in an ideal world. It’s a world where comfort could come in binary files filled with digital empathy and memories. Where typed words and numbers that form black and white promises could replace the real and organic voice of reassurance. Where wires between my webcams and your headsets could entangle themselves in ways our fingers used to be intertwined. Where waiting for an email meant as much as waiting for you to return home to me. Where the strategic positioning of your punctuation marks could transform these passive symbols into active symbols of love and concern: A comma, like a shared pause for when our eyes meet Exclamation marks for when we wave to each other from across the street, or as a passionate gesture from underneath these sheets. A question mark for when you’re sick and I am by your bed Worried, because you wouldn’t eat. A semicolon for when we argue, and a full stop for when we finally give in. A parenthesis for containing moments of vulnerability that only seem to leak out late at night. You won’t know it but, I dream mostly of an online conversation, filled with time stamps that affirm your presence. If I’m lucky, I will find an ellipsis Small creatures of continuity with heads heavy with hesitation. … And - if I’m really lucky, I’d undo those black buttons of suspense and see you once more.
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May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 10:20 AM UTC
Long Distance at 03:18
Distance has a particular way of hurting: It begins slowly, and is self-contained. Because our mothers would often speak about Love, and how everything falls helpless in Love, Distance becomes a housebroken dog. It is powerless, and whilst I love, I am powerful. On Sunday, our fathers would teach us to put our faith in things unseen, and so we grow confident and complacent. Just when you think you’ve understood it, It sinks its teeth in hard and deep. An idealist tries to make it out light and easy They will often write poems about finding ideal love in the real world. But I will write about knowing real love misplaced in an ideal world. It’s a world where comfort could come in binary files filled with digital empathy and memories. Where typed words and numbers that form black and white promises could replace the real and organic voice of reassurance. Where wires between my webcams and your headsets could entangle themselves in ways our fingers used to be intertwined. Where waiting for an email meant as much as waiting for you to return home to me. Where the strategic positioning of your punctuation marks could transform these passive symbols into active symbols of love and concern: A comma, like a shared pause for when our eyes meet Exclamation marks for when we wave to each other from across the street, or as a passionate gesture from underneath these sheets. A question mark for when you’re sick and I am by your bed Worried, because you wouldn’t eat. A semicolon for when we argue, and a full stop for when we finally give in. A parenthesis for containing moments of vulnerability that only seem to leak out late at night. You won’t know it but, I dream mostly of an online conversation, filled with time stamps that affirm your presence. If I’m lucky, I will find an ellipsis Small creatures of continuity with heads heavy with hesitation. … And - if I’m really lucky, I’d undo those black buttons of suspense and see you once more.
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47
The rain clouds form just above my head Waiting, listening, praying that the sky opens I want the world to cry like I have I want the world to know that I have given everything It is a painful moment realizing you are alone Disconnected from everything and anything you love Phones, webcams, letters make no difference You need to feel the warm embrace of your lover You long for the moment when you see your dog smiling I feel these things and yet I feel nothing There is a sickness growing in me Like it has been fertilized and watered daily I want these feelings to stop I don’t want to be a million miles from what I love I have no options, I must wait Being alone has caused only problems Problems that I want to be done with Being alone made me love drugs Drugs aren’t people They aren’t capable of hurting you Unless you want to quit Then drugs take every sad thing you’ve told them Every tear you’ve cried to them And use it against you Remember when you were on drugs? You were happy, you were carefree Just come back I can’t go back to that life But in reality I’m still living it. I can’t get those thoughts out of my head I can’t become the person i was because I’m broken The rainclouds stay above my head Looking like they are going to burst and rinse me of my fears Alas, they just pass over and leave me to cry alone for years
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Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 3:55 AM UTC
Rain
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…
0
Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 10:50 AM UTC
Technophobia/2030
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…
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75
maybe I'll write a poem today I've got little else to do my junk news, wordles, and puzzles are done did the laundry too I've got a book to write and friends to visit why is that such a reach? I go through the motions in my comfort zone watching silent webcams of the beach I need milk and bread cereal and eggs but Walmart seems so far away little makes me laugh or cry and each color turns to gray
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Apr 8, 2024
Apr 8, 2024 at 10:41 AM UTC
gray
On a Christian chat I can listen to human voices And watch their webcams! Wow, human interaction This really is great Not as lonely Nice to listen to
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Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 12:42 AM UTC
Wow, People ( I love to listen to people)