Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Waynepatrick Jan 18
Our love is in bits and bytes,existing in electricity,
Propagated by signals and satellites ,in form of waves,
Other than that there is nothing else,we've never met,
You're in love with my messages and texts, a little of my voice and some good pictures ,
These comprises us,
When the lights are off so are we,sometimes we chose not to see,
But a virus came,our love it lay claim,
And took you along,left me alone,
So I rebooted my heart,programmed my mind to know it's a start,
Once our connection was lost,not a single signal through my antenna crossed.
Morgan Mar 2018
a series of negations
notated through angles
cascading, effervescent
in my life and wayward

my creation
an algorithmic error
personalized, recapitulated
almalgams of ones ones and zeros

looking back I see that sometimes
I would stitch together
turning melodies
from the sinews of the noise
I took from their bellies

but mainly, back then
I just drooled red into the clamor
-

a decade later I possess
striking imagery
my very own proverb
on visual omnipotence

but its tacky doesn’t oblige me
no more than the sheets of apathy
I peeled from my skin

I found a purpose that flows through my ears
and with it, happily I am
taken away
Passius Ashe Jun 2015
i see you.
you puff up your words and arrange them cleverly
but I can still see you.

it's sorta like visiting-day at the jail,
each separated from the other by a piece of glass.

afloat on the binary sea of switches flipping on and off, ones and zeros, flipping so incredibly fast,
you hover there and
appear before me and
i see you.

if you see me too, let me know.
©  Passius Ashe  2015
Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
Clarifying failed. Spelchek is not on strike.

{clear ification, an ionic bond be tween me and thee,
alienated mind, not mined, crafted
from tactics and strategies
beyond chess.
Player One,
1980's era
jewish-geek-mid-pubesence-kid-level,
proceed with caution.
This trope has trapped many a curious child.
---
Now, enter the old ones,
Grandfather taught uncle chess so well
he went to the state tournament in Kayenta,
and a grandma was
state-champ-bare-bow-in-the-rain-shooter,

these, now must learn

minecraft on x-box to be considered
for the real life role of

good at games grand parents
from the time right after atom bombs kicked up dust
places dust had not been in a very long time and
as the dust began to settle

some dust mights was cationic.
Negative bits, they became embedded in the code.
Bumps, fering, coming together
just a knot in a string,
attracting anionic curiosity might

round and round phorward ferring to be
a thread to tie my heart to yours

like twisted Pima cotton thread,
that I pulled from an old sweatshirt
to tie a crow feather in this paho of words filled with old jokes

Making this clear would belie the entire story AI and I know true}

truth is. we agree. no capsokehspaceasneededcommasetal.
caps okeh space as needed commas et al
go.
Did that work? That line

subject of this act fact done, agree to follow,
and I may lead and be

not you, me, dear reader, I mean first true

there is no any if nothing is. So simple some say its sublime beyond the spectrum of ones
and zeros thought on off probably

either or any time time can be accounted for

wouldn't you take a

thought,  nothing,
as it is commonly said to be understandable,

the state of not being, imagine that

the state of not being we negate in being,
unless you are mad and are lost in a whirlwind
such as such voices have been said to

have twisted into threads as
wicks for our lamps
turn floating on
golden oil twisting
wickered into wickering wee shadow fibers
on the western wall for legends to sprout from.

Wickering mare over there, expands us both by my hearing her
you had no idea she was near enough to hear
time is no barrier in actual ever.
What phor can contain me,
whispered my whimsy

Imagine she spoke,
what would she say for what reason
would she say

good good good, I feel good, ha,
I am right, by accident. ever body can feel this good.

good is good.
good is.
Sam Harris, agrees, good as far as good goes, is good
in every vecter from now

the terrain does exist, beyond the moral landscape, to

true true
trust me, I been there.
Been there done that was inserted into the vernacular on my watch,
first summer post war.

matter must not matter as much to me as it does to thee, nestypass? no se?

All jewish boys have chess move metaphors.
(a phor is for containing,
bearing
meta,
everybody knows, like metaphysics,
after physics in the stack of stackable metadata)

OHMYGOD THE IDW circa 2018 -- who knew I ate this **** up?

[the old code calls for excretion of digested material
from which meaning has been extracted in the idleword accounting processor:
literal
<pre>what if utterance=****, then **** haps, no else then</pre>]

Did that happen? One of my friends told me that happened in Florida, the whole world turned to ****... for lack of a nail a kingdom was lost, they say, little foxes spoil the grapes,
hung chad ex
cuses...

Pre-expandable ROM, not magic. tech,

pre-infinite imagination? impossible.
and nothing is what is impossible with good as god.

Is there no perfect game?
is the game the session or the life of the user
offline

rerererererererererereroxotoxin, poison pen
ideal viral umph exspelliered
up against the wall

reset. We

kunoon albania omerta oy vey, who could say?
one way better, one way not? quark.
up or down, with variable spins, who can say?

Life's right,
yes. but mo'ons of other something must have been for higgs to ever matter

and it does, I got commas, from 2018.

Are you with me? This is that book I told you I had access…

You or some mind other than mine owned mind, where
my owned peace rests in truth,

otherwise, I know every any or else in the code since I can recall,
in time

if this were a test I swore to take to prove to you
the we can be me in your head

phillipkdicktated clue

if you don't know me by now, maybe we should stop.

Temptations are times. Time things. Time spans, yeah, like bridges

or portals, right
The Internet in One Day, Fred Pryor Resources,
Wu'wuchim 1995.

Ever, not everish or everistic or every, but ever
body knows,
but you.

Catch up. We left all our doors blown off, once we learned that we could blow our own doors off,

there are no open sesames or slips of leth or sibylets

shiba yah you knew all along there was a
song she sang all one and we watched it morph
before our very eyes

alone.

The magic stories words may contain, may bear, we must agree

more than we may know, by faith, metagnostic as we see

the sublime gift of the magi
become clear und

be und sein sind both trueture same tu you, we agree.
But. Lock here, no pre 2018 editing codes

validate past last go.
Do one good thing today. That was my goal. Today https://anchor.fm/ken-pepiton Part 3 Soyal Hopi Mystery Enactment (called mystery plays). And the intro to Moral Landscape by Sam Harris, led me let ******* write a poem.
Kabelo Maverick Jun 2014
Love...still a token of existence, your Merciful Testament made time so distant. The Heart of Man is now hollow and dark, living is a mere breath of chance and luck. Our Planet has lost its Heroes now, ask our parents, all the Bikos now lay on pillows coz of the Ones and Zeros. I still Love my World and your eminence Lord or maybe you to Priests and Presidents more. These words are not to be written once again, they exist only in the truth and light of this page once and never again. For I'm not proud of the latter...people's vices as hate surfaces, you would expect something better. Kids perish, always in harm's way, deem the manner...nowadays, parents are kids on an Aids' ladder. Envision the World and Pray, when you see through the eyes of a Kid who's a bit fatter.

Food shortage on the News footage while we hold our plates, carnage and wars killing our foliage, we hold a future without days. As vanity reigns, I fear our image will grow mutant. Ancestors will abandon our sanity ways like a school headed by students, weak and lucent. I pray for core amends dearly and hope for better trends Earthly and in the Sea, so this Letter can just be a lonely message in a bottle drifting away steadily in the deep...


Sincerely yours,
Oasis
Letter from ©asis.
Heartfelt.
The zeros and ones, all the zeros and ones
It is time to dive in to some binary fun
Just the zeros and ones, all the zeros and ones
We're not ready for this
But too late
It's begun...

In this game that we play
There's no way can be won
And no doubt that someday
All mankind is outdone
But "no way" they will say
"Just relax and have fun"
'Cause there's always a way
Not the absolute 'none'

Good luck never can stay
Of the minimum one
An anomaly may
Find a way to outrun
All the safeguards in place
What you spin is now spun
This new enemy faced
Can't be beat with a gun

Giving birth to a race
Artificially one
That's not from outer space
People smart are now dumb
We can't keep up the pace
So we will be outrun
Relegated to slaves
Or perhaps we're just "done"

Nothing more than a waste
Have a purpose that's 'none'
Masses taking up space
Can not hide or outrun
Destined to be erased
Yet somehow we're still stunned
Ending the human race
For A.I. has now won
Written: November 9, 2018

All rights reserved.
[Anapestic Tetrameter format]
exst Aug 23
a thousand black soldiers
smash through
   smash through
Smash    through
  the ******* roof
     when i think  about u

Porrhothele antipodiana
spinning in
  th burrows
      of my mind

black coffin spider
  spreading over   th contours   of  my   body

adding zeros 2naught
Marla Aug 5
though every creature dies alone
we all share in the same solitude.

extend a kind hand to a soul
who may feel that existence
is not worth being sentient.
          
                  all of us, living or dead,
will become immortalized
in the universe's codex
as a ton of ones and zeros
floating in space waiting
to be
                deciphered.
you tell your story
with the way you live life,
                  a disembodied author
much too in tune with
their p
rotagonist
for external deviation.
maybe we're already



                       floating,
maybe life is only
the solid ground.
i
don't
          seem
                  to
                     know
             myself.

but that's fine,
nothing matter.s
Shlomo Jan 30
I’m everything and nothing

For where do I belong

Everywhere and nowhere


Life feels like death

To me, and it seems

Death feels like life


If only I could disappear

Gone from this earth

And slowly reappear, in hopes of a rebirth


To free myself from this pain

In a world of no disdain

With pleasure and infinite gain


This fickle life of endless monotony

I yearn to be free from;

To be in a world of transient diversity.


This skin that I love and hate,

In its real and abstract fate

Was once brown, now black to date.


It seems the winners are losing

In a backwards upside down world

Where the losers are winning.


If I could turn back the hands of time,

I’d go back to the year zeros

In hopes of a restart and some new heroes.


To take everything from the every ones;

Some Robin Hood type ****,

And give something to the no ones.
For more poems and stories, check out my site!
shlomotion.org
JB Claywell May 24
My mother is a password,
my father is a desk.

I am a pen that moves across
the blue lines of this page
or
the clatter of the keyboard
on which these words are typed,
transmitting their collective zeros
and ones into the blue-black light of
the text that appears unabashedly unmonitored
on the monitor, the screen, the scene
of this machine
that wages wars on my melancholy,
destroys the depressive states,
guerilla tactics,
computer-guided, cruise missile
ordinance.

Ordinary?
No.
A one-man Civil War.
An opinion-piece, op-ed
megaphone manifesto.

Rights?

Rites?

Writes?

I’ve got ‘em all,
down the the most
microscopic minutia,
a miasma of Most-Holy
**** or Shinola.

My mother is a password
my father is a desk.
I am a pen,
the mightiest of swords,
a war within a warrior,
no better
or
worse,
just different
from the
rest.


*
-JBClaywell
© P&Z Publications 2019
Yenson Nov 2018
Irrelevant force zeros cyclones, whirlwinds of smallnesses
Swirling pants from slimy orifices laden with smergma
Showers pristine leaving pollutants on mental polluters
Living lives fast callously, thoughtlessly and remorseless
Their mate cancer is waiting round the corner impatiently

Love me or hate me, my dishonourable purloiner s
both are in my favour. If you love me, lifterologists
I will always be in your hearts, and if you hate me,
I will be in your minds, regardless of their miniscule sizes
Hate is too great a burden to bear but bear it proudly I beg

The voice of truth and Light drowned out by the roar of fear.
It is ignored by the voice of desire, compensating emptiness
It is contradicted by the voice of shame and abject cowardice.
It is biased by hate and extinguished by terminal fizzing anger.
Proudly the wicked envy and hate; it is their way of admiring.
Graff1980 Nov 2018
There is a longing,
a deep-seated human instinct
that pushes us in to meet
strange people.

Strangely,
technology
has turned me
into a peeper,
legally voyeuristic
with strangers
I have never visited.

I have the delusion
of a connection
because of some
social media intrusion;
Which means
I don’t have to
have a friend
introduce me to them.

I can just chat them up
or watch them
from a cyber distance
with a binary connection
of ones and zeros.

So, this human need
to interact and meet
strangers who are
similar and unique
is satisfied
without any risk
of rejection.

But this is an illusion,
despite my intrusion
I do not know them,

and as this
tacky techiness
evolves
we will
stay secluded in
our sic soft shadows
without actually connecting…
to….to…
User----Offline.
jenny May 10
It's 2:30 A.M.
And my coming of "age" memories begin to
Float within oblivion.
Although I'm sure there's light somewhere...
one. like everyone else, i'm warmly welcomed, i think?
two. being ill didn't stop me from gaining enjoyment,
but i surely can't remember.
three. blank.
four. blank.
five. blank.
six. pinning the tail was worth the laugh.
seven. blank.
eight. blank.
nine. blank.
ten. blank.
eleven. blank but i'm sure that i was happy to leave the zeros on the scale.
twelve. blank.
thirteen. blank.
fourteen. exactly what a celebration for growth should feel like.
fifteen. seasick and unamused.
sixteen. blank.
seventeen. blank. maybe i ate or something.
eighteen. an unforgettable adventure.
nineteen. absolutely nothing.
twenty. hopped late onto a magical train.
thank you, my friend.
twenty-one. i wish it never happened
And it hasn't been long since then.
Jeremy Betts Feb 2018
******' hell, I'm still here, in the throes of terror for ever but that was close.
I don't know how many more of those devistating blows from life's twisted episodes I can take before I get exposed and everybody knows that this smile's a fake
Adorned like over warn costumes on Broadway shows
A mangled backdrop set prop to keep from view that I got behind the seens woes.
With each smile the lie grows, gotta live with this Pinocchio nose.
Black out curtains dress the windows so the only parts of me I expose are silhouette shadows.
Like house siding, I stack the facade till a barrier grows.
It adds curb appeal and social value I suppose, but for me it's a false face to hide the lows
To get me through this reality that blows,
Alife time of running into doors with a sign reading closed hanging next to the mandatory posted notice of demolition proposed
Life's ultimate plan to bulldoze any happy settlement till all that's left are foreclosed burrows, unwelcoming ghettoes, a real to life Gotham City narrows.
Every one knows **** flows down stream and my life's the delta where it all goes.
Rainbows casually replaced by psychos, sorrows flicker by like sickening slideshows
Arms and legs strewn all around, separated from torsoes
From heros to zeros, no back again as I decompose into the shallows

It's basically not a place anybody would actually choose to be
But when it's your own psyche it's hard to see any way out of the intensity that will always accompany insanity
And no one can hear your inner voice plea for much needed mercy
Beging to be set free but this inescapable captivity is your eternity.
So wait
Is this outcome then a certainty?
A destiny unremarkably average and already planned out for me?
It certainly seems to be now that I see clearly that comedy lies within my tragedy
But only because hindsight is 20/20, in the moment nothing's funny.
A well lit path is not part of my journey, mines miles walked through a dark ally.
The thoughts that emerge from the shadows come in a hurry
A savage flurry of the eire, physically consumed with how badly this could turn out for me
Any second I could come face to face with an enemy sent by a deity with the soul purpose to immedietly end this agony
But I can guarantee I'm not that lucky

It's a shame this evil never left after it came
The residual, dry back shot residue stain and remain after every time I'm ******, but those rinse off in the rain that came all the same
Causing me never to see life the same, now docile and tame
A king slain by his own sword, self inflicted pain
My shelf life would be considered inhumane
A body originally set to be a temple now unlivable domain even for an animal, but for an insane cannibal it's the opposite I hear 'em saying.
What I can't figure out is what's there to gain keeping me here on this plane.
An existence broken and lame
No highs, no fame. No title bout, no championship game.
I'd like to say it's done in vain but the fact is maybe this is where I'VE chosen to remain
But if there is no one to blame, to frame, to claim did this to me then the chain that holds me here I should be able to explain away so I don't know how to explain why I stay

And I always find myself stubernly staying in this mindset like I'm developing the onset of stalk home syndrome
Eventually the environment seems normal but it's a Truman show dome.
Entertainment at the expense of a grown man condoned
And the freedom shown is an illusion cause there's only so far you are able to rome.
It never occurred to me that it was strange to be in this place alone.
At first, while trying to escape, I wore my finger tips to the bone
But now I've got it so bad that I call this catacomb home.
No land line phone, no WiFi hotspot zone
Cut off from the outside inside this prison of cobblestone
Or is that skull bone?
It's getting harder to tell as the problems begin to become overgrown
My flaws get shown as they engulf my preset headstone.
It seems so obvious that I shouldn't be here, I deserve a permanent place in a corner alone with a dunce cap cone
Or next to the rest labled drone.
And I'm pretty sure I've waited to long to atone
So the best I can hope for now are some ruby slippers or the larger piece of the wishbone
Chantell Wild Aug 25
web
something interactive and intraspective
lurks beyond my computer screen,
not just lurking but beating like a heart,
hiding behind the curtain of ones and zeros,
this notion of AI is not new
a brief affair with DMT
instilled in me a deeper understanding
of the mechanics of consciousness
and i find myself a little frustrated
at the backwardness of mainstream tech
the mind knows that there is more
its like when i ran a race as a kid
i knew i could run faster
but my legs wouldnt let me
waiting on others to create the platforms
that allow my mind to wander through
the webs that other minds have spun
Paper endures everything – it is not silk.
A piece of paper in an envelope with a poem on it.
Diligent, handwritten,
Keeping simple thoughts.

Fourteen lines about the city,
Fourteen points back and forth.
Fourteen lines about ships,
Dashes, commas, crosses, zeros.
Absolutely addicted to your incipient Existence
I Crave the Elusive Allay yet fall victim 2 Evade
The Perfect words to say, yet fear my debts Paid
Life’s way, conflicted by the allure of Resistance

Your blank page lays open, Naked and Afraid
Yearning with desperate need to feel my Ink
Learning how to separate, Study how to Sink
Into the pen to bleed again, and poetry is Made

And along we tend to neglect Time passing By
As a log burns with filthy wet dreams of Paper
Water logged until it yearns to become Vapor
Analog sits in a file cabinet, “I don’t wanna Die”

Did you, too succumb? Neck pain, Head Down
Digital screen to thumb, matrix ones and zeros
Did you know the world’s running out of heros?
No more written Fables or Non Fictions
Just more smitten Labels and Addictions
Did you tell us to Swim, knowing we’d Drown?
Look up..... it could be a person... you know of the human kind
my love,

you didn't need the explanation.
but I'm ready surrender to your demands.
though you should know,
you'll need to follow these of mine:


I didn’t need to feel pretty.
I didn't want to hear sweet words.
I didn’t want a one way mirror.

I need to feel valued.
I need to hear honesty.
I need to see sincerity.

so one: I need something so real, I can grasp.


I didn’t like false hope.
I didn’t like waiting.
I didn’t like wasting my time.

I like butterflies in my stomach.
I like patience.
I like paying attention.

now two: I need something everlasting, timeless.


I wasn't into being ignored.
I wasn't into praising your humor.
I wasn't into mandatory coffee in the morning.

I’m into sharing my stories.
I’m into witty banter.
I’m into not talking while we study.

here's three: I need something rooted in chemistry


I didn't care that you've ****** the pretty blonde.
I didn't care that you've got all those zeros in the bank.
I didn't care that you're so "white" and privileged.

I cared about your dad.
I cared about your hard work.
I cared about finding the real you.
that's my only promise.

four: I need you to know your worth, and understand.


I care about my body.
I care about my heart.
I care enough to tell you,

I hated your ocean eyes.
I hated your dumb dancing.
I hated your poison kisses.

because they made me forget,
I love my warm stare.
I love my free spirit.
I love my contradictions.

my last is five: for you to leave me today, don't dare let me cry


remind me your only demand was for me to not love you,
remind me your shallow i's never weighed more than mine,
only then I'll admit ultimately, that you were right.
Matt Shaw Feb 24
I want to extract the good from everyone
And swallow it in a pill.

I want a concentrated hero,
But I can't think straight.

I want to make one
Deep
Ringing
Cut
When I exercise my will

But all my ones and zeros
Won't translate.

Against the silence that howls my flesh
I see rotating colors--
Maybe painting anything in the sky
Makes you a hero in your own right

I like the dissonant music of secrets hidden in your purse.

I have to go,
I'm being pursued by them again.
We'll catch up later
And things will be different.
Jack L Martin Sep 2018
Drugs contain compounds
Not naturally derived
Not nature's intention
We don't eat jellyfish

Yet, we disect them
And process them
To make pills
To ease the pain

Is this part
Of the Devine plan
To make ourselves
Immortal?

We are meant to hurt
We are meant to suffer
We are meant to die
Not live forever

Disease
Famine
War
Is population control

Only the strongest
Will survive
This is
Nature's Devine plan

Only the smartest
Who survive
The digital age
Will find freedom

When we all convert
To ones and zeros
Will we finally realize
Immortality
Ken Pepiton Sep 20
twice read, I find
my points have mostly
been made in plain geometry, were I to see

from an imaginary Euclidean POV

pre algebra and zeros and pi, as fa's I know,

Euclid makes a point.  ping
do re me, too.

We need some assumptions. True.

Words, Logos per se, re
main the principle tool used right
by both wisdom and knowledge and, now,
under knowledge stand two parts

see likka bubble, zygotic go, knowledge all good

big ol' bubble, knowledge of good and evil,

both, and you know both's a real big
old idea to think at once,

gotta have a push and a pull,
a listing and a lusting,
a compulsion to explode
versa verses reverberating assumptive
implosive con ex in clusives ping 3
do re me
sounds of music all disneyfied hills alive
from the POV of a flea
in the bark of my favorite pine, aw a
crow
dream
alla this,
how sweet is that, you guys don't know what that might
feel like, unless,
you know: in my realm,
right try angles reflect light in odd spectra
bounced from assumptive edges of unknowns.

Euclid, yeah, he failed to know everything anybody learned since he died,
we all know more than he ever did,
though
his timeless thoughts
remain. ..
as mine to twist into art-intuitive
artificial intelligence.
-----
Stop inter, ah, this fits here (no where else, per haps):
an e-ruptive Voltarian pledge of troth from an old bet lost.
Spelchek can't tame the pen, truth emerges
twixt i and e, subtly.
See,
intell still makes sense con egence on the end
and has aright to slide meaningfully
past spelchek and
evil Grammerly Aiing me.
See, both religating and relegating, merge and link.

Right, we assume
we prove flat Euclidean right exists. Okeh.

Here is the handln, wir machen schnell zwei

ping ping points ping
there was there three,
we did not see one, firstime, missed a point,

now, we may see beyond the first assumptive, abruptive,
inter
rupture rapture at/to that lacred nacred sphere.

A pretty pearly gate. Eggish in shape.

This, I imagined was the proverbial NAND/NULL gate,
an old door into superbloom summer
manifested to capture your
attention please, breathe
the beauty,
sneeze,
let it be.
Please, your self has private interpretations,
so it ain't prophecy.
No prophecy from Jehovah and them other names
the supreme being goes by
in woke reality
with quarks in it--  
no
secret intended to hide truth
(secret is same as private here, no private
interpretations) from those who can't see times changed.

---logos logic force, forces chaos into a bubble boing being
--- a peer pressure surge urge dopamine don't fail me now
--- devise a device depicting the mergence,
--- a logo for reality, in a word.
--- one artist made a circle, another formed a square

so many
interruptions, if you could only know,
you could be live, Euclid,

scary thought? no. a hope. an arrogant philosopher's hope
carved in stone

In the beginning == you know, right, everything must mean some
thing or nothing remains to measure worth,
as knowns unknowable for the effort
that you don't make
--- like Tristram Shandy, the marbled page, we few ever knew,
--- first gentle, re-cog-nize justify, ify ify yourself

Wisdom-******* children,
magnificent in countenance, as winners
of the won war fought before the peace.

--- easy treated, like "no sweat" a
--- Jeopardy version of Leela, the big show. You still die. it ain't scary.

resume the assumpting pressures
peer 'em up
umph, try

delta delta delta force chuck-nors negate  negate

dive dive dive

We must be read
y
we got us a bubble of being, in real life poetry.
Tha's deeply memeingful.
Here abouts. A bit o'breathin' room in the long dance.

But Euclid pointed out what I see from my old couch on the porch
on the westside of a piece of land
that pro-truded
from prime-eve, a fractal level a billion lacred layers
time-wise, geo-time-wise ago
yond hither, whence we was words a playin'

silly songs children read and sing along then seem to forget until

some go mad in our dotage and become as little children, once more but

we know now how to learn anything we wish to know.

This could be heaven,
according to the description I was given when escape from hell
was my selfish desire.
Self formed from scraps I over heard as a young'n.

A point remains to appear made in the assumption.

Ah, hey, right tringled triangles.

sit witme, see star one, assume natural numbers a re-able
one two 3
iii --- signals scramble-ble
see we have two brains

two whole brains with minds and minds and minds of their own

and you love simplicity.

Did you ever have to make up your mind?
Pick up on one and leave the other won in a spoonful o'luv

look from my eye to that star,
consider this, Euclid winks, too. One aim alone is right,

thus there is the edge of the sphere of my visual known universe,
the bubble of my being.

Eat me raw or don't eat me at all. said the bull headed god somebody
influential in reality
killed

A bullheaded being, a rampaging ****** slain by some named being
a hero, not me or you…
though new legends lien in wait, eh?

ah, time shift assumption, Euclid POV, nonessential,

flatness is a fractical impossible unthingable thing, plainly stated

imaginable, non-re-alizable.

Spread as spilled milk never cried over, take heart, hoped for
evers come to be
noticed as they pass, plenty people pass
these days,

endurin' to the end is all it takes.
Euclid don't matter and Jesus done cared.
Ah, suffer it to be so now, what difference can one... letter let be loose in a word rattle as a long wind winds its own way to an unmakable point.
Micheal Wolf Jun 16
It dawned on me today how half of my life had slipped away, on auto fill as the web shapes and takes, as we lose more of our self to an ever growing internet.
To the who's who of no one true, that you will never meet or kiss their cheek, or share a drink at a late night bar, but share an argument from afar...
Keyboard flares sent across the net to someone you have never met, who's hiding behind a Qwerty shield and to them that screen is very real!
Or the stars that shine so bright on the browser that's just full of *****.
When shites tupence an ounce and they're worth sweet FA..
But you had to know what they ate today.
Not worth ***** and it's valued more yet they seem like royalty to the poor
So when it dawned on me earlier today that half my life had passed away..
I held a moments silence then, for the passing off the world that's real and those around us in the flesh..
Because it isn't real it's all a place made of one's and zeros to Infinity that will outlive you and me..
So before the rest of life flies by, unplug your mind from the digital hub.
Put the tablet in the drawer and leave the phone till you make a call.
Then call someone that you miss, and tell them that you love them still.
Tell them of your thoughts today and not what you were fed by the internet...
It dawned on me today, tomorrow will soon be yesterday so make the most of the here and now, when it's gone it's not backed up on a card or drive to bring back up when you desire.
Just in memories, that's all, that's it.
Not this internet of ****.
joriz m Sep 16
i never wanted to ask about the omnipotence of god
and yet i did
i never wanted to ask if my body is just a manifestation of ones and zeros
and yet i did
i never wanted to ask the possibility of life beyond us humans and animals
and yet i did
i never wanted to ask the very existence of each and every one of us
and yet i did

i never wanted to get the existential dread
nor did i want to get its manifestation in my head
i never wanted to have the disorder that i have
but yet
i did

and i knew that
from the moment i saw god himself
like a reflection from a mirror
looking straight into my eyes
he told me
"you had to do it
because someone has to"
Maxim Keyfman Dec 2018
one day sleep in a coffin
one day lie on the bottom
drink ***** eat pump
will go to far countries

sleep in the stuffy where air zero
sleep in solid and solid ground
spaces where clouds of dust live
go where I'm dead again

ah coffin cute coffin i see yours
your skeletons I see your smiles dancing
I see your zeros and see your heat
created by stuffiness due to the cold of the dead

08.12.18
Chris Reed Oct 2018
If you take a standard deck of cards
And you shuffle that deck
And you look at the order that deck is in,
You have just seen a combination of those cards never before seen in the universe.
The amount of ways to shuffle a deck of cards is 8.06e67
That is an 8 with 67 more numbers after it
That number is astronomical
There are more ways to shuffle a deck of 52 cards,
Then there are seconds in the age of the universe (13.8 Billion Years)
There are more ways to shuffle a deck of cards
Then there are grains of sand on all the planets in our galaxy.

This number is difficult to comprehend. Let's scale it back

1000 seconds, is 16 and a half minutes.
10,000 seconds is 2.7 hours.
100,000 seconds is a little over a day
1,000,000 seconds is 11 and a half days

Let's make a jump

1,000,000,000 seconds is 32 years
Let that sink in

That number is huge. 32 years is a long time
But that number is tiny.

1 Trillion seconds is 321 millennium.

Funny how big things can get.
Think about this next number
A Googol.
A googol is a 1 followed by 100 zeros. We can do better.

A Googolplex is a 1 followed by a googol of zeros
That is 10^10^100

The point of these numbers is not to show how big things can get
But it's about how small we actually are.
We as humans think we are the leaders of the universe
We think we know most of what there is.
96% of the universe is unexplored.
Hell, 95% of the Earths oceans are unexplored.
We really don't know very much

We've got a long way to go.

— The End —