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Best Computer Poems

Below are the all-time best Computer poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of computer poems written by PoetrySoup members

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See also: Best Famous Poems

Details | Computer Poem | |

Cyber real

Has the convenience of technology 
inoculated us from reality?
Do androids dream of electric sheep?
I pray the code my soul to keep?
Does your universe live within 4G
Or megapixel infinity?
Which memory lies within
The one that was
Or the one that's been
Or how much gig how much ram?
Which reality is true?
Cyber me
Or cyber you?
Cyber bully
Cyber crime
Cyber hate 
Cyber time?
Cyber boxer
Or cyber brief?
Who is the real identity thief?
Cyber pleasure
Cyber pain
Hours spent glaring into the screen
Choosing an alternate username.
Status updates and trending tweets
Fill your mind and rob your sleep.
Clever hashtags and Instagram 
Will shape your image and gain more friends.
Is the you you've shaped in cyberspace 
The same you I'd see face to face?
We hide behind our computer screens
And criticize with brutal ease.
Virtual reality
Is buying souls of men you see 
And robbing the ability to dream real dreams.
I want to conquer something real
That I can grab that I can feel.
I want to touch life and hold on tight
I want to unblock true friends
And "like" real sights.
I want conversation face to face
In real world time
In a real world place.

Details | Computer Poem | |

I'M SO GLAD MY COMPUTER HAS A 'SMELL CHEQUER'

My computer has a ‘smell chequer’ Alas it doesn't seem to work For when I make an error I just look a complete jerk I know that I can smell I can do that pretty well But when I make an error It often is a terror I’m wary typing duck, I know that F is next to D Because if I do a swear it could be a tragedy If I’m typing the word shots I need to take great care Because I is next to O and of this I am aware So make sure you use your ‘smell chequer’ I am sure you will agree Your poems will be ‘prefect’ You will get it ‘write’ like me Jan Allison 25th October 2014

Details | Computer Poem | |

Short Stuff

You were always happy, always on the move
with a great zest for life and a heart full of love.

We loved you too and checked to see if you’d get mad
if we mimicked your habits, but you laughed instead.

When we were in school together, you often horsed around;
I ribbed you about eye trouble, eyes too close to the ground. 

You lived life with gusto, knowing your time was short;
playing hard, working harder, often with a jolly retort.

Honest to a fault, you saw the positive side of things;
kept things in order, solid rock with no mood swings.

Cut off jeans, gray tee shirt, tinted glasses, baseball hat;
great big grin, teasing quip, a big hello, a friendly chat.

You were the best teacher any student ever had;
I could call on you to help as though you were my dad.

You drove my school bus on many a winter morn;
dressed in brown coveralls, bottom legs frayed and worn.

You were there in summer, helping coach baseball games;
at football with your camera or turning cartwheels in the gym.

You taught us how to care, how to study, how to play;
how to work on the computer and make the most of every day.

So determined to learn, spending hours at a throw;
self-teaching all the things a teacher needed to know.

You are the poem of my life, who you were tells the tale;
your poem will last forever, healing memories never pale.

You wrote the words of this poem, pages of my life tell the story;
you will read them back to me, when we meet again in glory.

Details | Computer Poem | |

BC Had Greatness

B.C. has been the acronym applied 
for all events before out dear Lord’s birth.
Who knew another god would change the tide
and wield a power of great global worth?

To what do I refer? Or have you guessed
the god to which we each now bow our head?
No matter our religion, all are blessed
with this thing vital as our daily bread.

It took away the jobs of common men
and gave new jobs to geeks. You now must know
this god of our new world, who loves all sin
as well as good, has nothing it won’t show!

I think “Before Computers” seems a way
to say A.D.  became a new B.C.
Now things have changed so much that I would say
that my own past is ancient history!

Before Computers, life was not so fast,
and even in the 90’s I could keep
abreast of news and make my free time last.
High-tech today both makes me thrill and weep!

More time for family, a slowed down pace,
more time for God; I weep for things we’ve lost.
yet thrilled am I to see the human race
now bonding. But we do it at what cost?

Our children growing lazy, rude, and fat
and less connected, addicts to a phone!
To play outside. . . . Do you remember that?
B.C. meant doing more things on your own.

With jobs, our kids and all our lives at stake,
we now embrace our new computer age,.
Omitting our true God is the mistake
that might well do us in; we must be sage!

Recall the values getting left behind
as into this computer age we cruise.
Look back to decades past and you will find
B.C. had greatness that we must not lose.


For Deb's Contest (B.C. = Before Computers)

Details | Computer Poem | |

The Computer Screen

Of the items in the store,
All were second hand
An old computer did I buy,
With a broken stand

One side was badly scratched
Two knobs were missing too
But that’s not the story
I’m about to tell to you

T’was about the second week
Of the ‘puter at my place
Sitting there against the wall
Near the old staircase

I recall the night was late
As I readied me for bed
When I turned the ‘puter off,
The screen … it turned blood-red

The appearance caused a start
I gasped a gulp of air
I couldn’t turn my gaze away
I stood right there and stared.

Then a low murmuring
From deep within the set
Cold chills ran over me
I’ve not forgotten yet

A voice, low and menacing
Containing graveled rasps
I could not then stop again
My involuntary gasp

I stood there mesmerized
My gaze remained transfixed
Emotions racing through me
And all of them were mixed

The Voice on the other side
Of the blood-red display screen
Issued a command to me
So ominous and mean:

“Place your hand upon the screen
And repeat these words to me:
Where you are right now,
Is where I need to be.”

I felt my arm move upward
Powerless to resist
I felt a burning in my palm
As the display screen it kissed

I heard a voice and realized
The speaker it was me:
“Where you are right now,
Is where I need to be.”

As the words transmitted,
Involuntarily,
I could feel a change come on …
Overwhelming me.

As I stared in disbelief
My hand – it disappeared
Absorbed into the blood-red screen
As the burning onward seared …

Through my wrist, up my arm
It’s hotness I could feel
Inward was I screaming
Not believing this was real!

In reflection from the screen
I was being pulled into
I saw a face, and then I screamed:
“That horrid face is YOU!”

The rapid assimilation
Continued then until
All feelings were extinguished
And all was calm and still.

A billion beings there transformed
To tiny bytes and bits
And ‘tis every part of us
All websites now transmits

Now here I am deep inside
This computers’ display screen
If there’s disturbance felt
Oh so sharp and keen

Just place your hand upon the screen
And read these words to me:
“Where you are right now,
Is where I need to be.”

Details | Computer Poem | |

Inside my Computer

My computer-- disassembled
is a maze of cables, drives
chips and ports--an array
of connections, silver solderings,
twisting wires.

But when the satiny case
is latched in place
coils and cables disappear.
The smallest particle of matter
is not an atom, but a byte--
a particle of magic that combines
and multiplies unseen
inside the blinking box.

Creation occurs inside my computer--
friends, family rest behind the pressing
of selected keys. Words and faces
form; smiles and frowns
become feelings.
Attraction becomes addiction.

Inside my computer
merchants buy and sell--
musicians sing,
artists train pictures into pixels,
poets recollect emotion in tranquillity.

Inside my computer
dreams are imagined into reality--
inventions, hopes, ideas are born
and nurtured into happenings.
Strangers share a table, touch
hands across the world.

Inside my computer
the pulse of human hearts
waxes and wanes
as people fall in and out 
of love.

Details | Computer Poem | |

Modern Life

Modern Life
We are open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week
Except Monday mornings and Sunday nights.
What are they on about, at this place that I seek
That is supposed open 24/7 days a week.

The pub is open we have an unlimited license,
Let’s have a drink before we go to bed!
I’m sorry we are closed the doors shut at eleven
That’s what the snooty landlord then said.

The helpline is here no matter when 
Give us a call and we can help you then.
Ring, ring, ring, ring, the phone rings on
A tape recording says, “Sorry everyone has gone.”

My car has broken down the man came to fix it
“It doesn’t work” he said sratching his head.
“There a computer on board and I will need to record
All the things that are broken down” he said.

But I need my car; I looked at him hard, 
And he gave me a wizened up frown.
He plugged himself in, then said with a grin.
The computer says it’s fine, the engine is strong.

But the car doesn’t work you toothless little jerk, 
The computer plugged in must be wrong.
“How can it be wrong it says the engine is strong?” he gave me a shifty look
“To be honest missus if it ain’t on the pute, perhaps the answers in a book."

He could find nothing wrong, the onboard computer gave a bong,
But it still said all was okay.
The tow-truck they called out with its ramp and its chains
Now they have taken my poor car away.

Modern life is so frustrating; we have everything at our fingertips
There is 24/7 that does not mean that, and fury does exit my lips.
If its 24/7 and help lines constantly, a car that is run by computer.
Why doesn’t anything work, I feel like the jerk, can somebody lend me a shooter.

I want to blast and to break all technology of late
It’s driving me to drink and distraction
The open all hours pubs are now closed, 
And my car is still out of action.

The bank is closed, the computers just died, 
The telephones gone on the blink
The TV HD, it is fuzzy like me;
I think I’m going to put my head in the sink.

The oven would be better, but its electric not gas
So I don’t think it would work as well
I want to end it all, not practice for the day,
The Grim-Reaper points at me, and sends me to hell.

Therefore, I’ll fill up the sink and put my head in the drink, 
Oh, blast, who is that at the door?
It’s the water board here, we are just making it clear,your water is off for a week.
Typical, I have no car and it is too far
To walk out and jump in the creek.



Details | Computer Poem | |

Life is Messy

Life is a mess and needs constant cleaning
Soap Opera glasses and bodies acquire meaning
She said this; He said that
Bureaucracy is getting fat, fat, fat

Life is a mess with no sanitizing
Half empty or half full is agonizing
Media talk; on the job gossip
Interacting with people considered Drama Prophets

Life is a mess and will stay as such
Many humans seem to lack the connective touch 
Work harder, longer, faster, be perfect!
For some, this is equal to a creative reject

Life is really messy for the next generation
Faster, better, longer; utter frustration
Stress that will taunt and even hurt them
A messy loss of an antiseptic brain stem


Details | Computer Poem | |

Hard Drive

You tell me you have the space you need,
That makes me want you to get closer,
You have so much you could offer,
A couple of servers along with full exposure.

With all that ram that you have in that tower,
It would make my tech world come alive,
Baby, that all sound so darn sexy to me,
But what I want to know is, how big is your hard drive?



06-15-2014

Details | Computer Poem | |

IN CRISIS THE VILLAGE

Jobless pens,

Separated ink,

At the paperless society,

In the Global village!




Details | Computer Poem | |

White Silent Static Voices

All relationships in a cloud
Ones and zeros are your friends
Cackling static voices in white silence
Useless platitudes filter out
Your permanent depression
With temporary chemicals
Dulling the dread in your brain
 
Abandoned by the physical
To touch someone is too real
So smile and watch your photographs
of your white silent lives
Static cannot scream
and it cannot bleed
So wrap yourself in your comfortable white static lie
 
Expressing your emotion
Is cold and lifeless
Artificial artifacts of your life imprinted with communal approval
Show your smiles with drinks in hand
Hide your screams behind your eyes
With our white static silent voices
We hide ourselves from our lives

Details | Computer Poem | |

Gigaflops

  Gigaflops

Did you meet the Boogyman
Did you see his stare?
Or were you in the land of nod
Blissfully unaware
Of the face that’s at your window
Or the menace in your room
Or the giant bug that’s infiltrated each device you own
The sinister reflection to be remotely viewed
Or the troll that sits in wait beneath your old computer stool.

Did you know the Boogyman had come tonight to stay?
To interfere, to change the rules, to win, to have his way.
To permeate the World Wide Web and take complete control
To hack into your emails and alter all your codes
Open up your firewall, check that it’s enabled
Test your antivirus make sure that it is stable
Back up all your data your photos and your files
Scan and defragment, reformat your drives
Ask yourself which Boogyman do you fear the most
The worm, the thread, the virus, or the awful viral ghost

Step into the Matrix, be one with the machine
Understand it from within, if only in your dreams
Feel the power that drives it, look behind closed doors 
Recognise the program files, could they possibly be yours
Switch off your computer, let the screen turn black
Gaze into the monitor and see it staring back
Even when the power is off the monster you can view
Face to face you realise, the Boogyman is you. 

Details | Computer Poem | |

Social Media - Life of a Teen

Every day I go on Facebook to check on my wall, I just stare and wonder if I even know you people at all. 
I go on Twitter to tweet a tweet, then on Instagram to share a random picture of my feet.
I post just about the most ridiculous things, including what I wear and what I eat.
I can't stand my page being blank and white, so I come up with a funny story, whenever I can't think of anything else to write.
If I'm really bored I might check out someone else's page instead, to post a rude comment about something they said.
I don't hang out with a lot of friends, but according to the internet, I have over a hundred and ten!
This is everyone's routine day by day, as we check posts, and secretly call each other names as we pass in the hallway. 
We no longer have genuine compassion; instead we get straight to the point, something I like to call bashing.
We think it's normal to yell "Amy's having a baby and Mark is going crazy!"
Texting is another great hobby, I just got a message calling Amy a slut, and Mark's girlfriend a complete nut.
We call this our way to connect, but society is turning into a wreck.
Social media helps us to keep in touch, but I think it's the reason we haven't slept much.

Sometimes I stay on my phone till 4 in the morning, but who needs sleep anyways? 
That’s boring!
The internet is such a time consumer.
Its fast pace has even caught up to the late bloomers.
I think I’m going crazy; I can hardly go a day.
I wonder if other people are this way.
It’s such a distraction while I’m supposed to be doing homework.
But keeping up with all these statuses is already enough work.
You can find EVERYONE on Facebook!
From aunts to uncles and about a million girls named Brook.
Some people write about the most interesting things,
Including their relationships which have no strings.
Reminds me of Anita,
So easy to please, seems charming and wise, but easy for all the guys.
Meanwhile, Sammy is bullied until she sits there and cries.
Our eyes are glued to the screens that only causes affliction,
Welcome to social media, the world's latest greatest addiction.

Details | Computer Poem | |

This is me

My knees were the things that 
kept me up and my skin is my 
cutting board my eyes are the 
rain clouds to the fire running 
down my arms and my heart is 
the fire place that keeps me 
burning so calm

Details | Computer Poem | |

My Dear P/S Family

Several weeks ago my dad went into the hospital for various health issues.  We  had
expected him to be home before Christmas.   Due to complications and age on Friday
December 11th the Lord called him home.  We were with him until the end and he peacefully
passed.
Even though we had a troubled past my dad was a good father in so many ways and he was
always there for me.  I loved him very much and as the days pass I miss him in ways, big
and small.
A couple of weeks before my dad went into the hospital my computer broke and it has been
difficult to come on the site.  I wanted to let you all know that I miss sharing our words
and all of your amazing talents and the warmth and beauty that you bring into my life
through all that you share especially now when my heart needs it the most.
I want to wish you all a safe and happy holiday season.  May it be filled with peace and
all the love and joy it can hold.  You are in my thoughts and prayers and I wish only the
best for you always, dear friends.  I am making arrangements to use a friends computer and
hoping to be able to come on the site when I can.  Blessings to you all.

Love, Robin

Details | Computer Poem | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’


Details | Computer Poem | |

Computers

Cantankerous and
Ornery
Machines,
Preying on
Unsuspecting people;
They 
Eat data and
Ruin the 
Sight!

Details | Computer Poem | |

Computers

computers

Lets speak about computers
Well hear me while I rant
Understand these ruddy beasts
You know, I really can’t
I don’t think that I’m stupid
But I haven’t got a clue
The things they drive me half insane
They do, they really do.

Have you ever seen a grown man cry
Well take a look and see
When that computer plays me up
The tears that come to me.
The kids they come and teach me how
But nothing does sink in
And then I rant and carry on
And make this childish din.

I’d throw it in the ruddy bin
But I really need the thing
I really could not live without it
If you know what I mean
I have these love/hate feelings
It’s the love of all my life
And yet I hate the ruddy thing
When it causes too much strife.

18 July 2013 @ 1915hrs.




Details | Computer Poem | |

TECHNOLOY TERROR

A generation where there is no more mouth to mouth conversations 
No more emotions, no more feelings, and definitely no expressions 
On my journey of life I’ve been derailed from its tracks
Due to technology our life’s purpose has been lost and we need to get it back
Each of us has been infected by the disease called technology
Please don’t text me a “I’m sorry” …a poor way to express an apology
Just call me on my landline phone
My computer is off so I’m alone
There are 140 characters that unleash unforgettable consequences 
Before I type my thoughts it completes my sentences
Whatever happened to our privacy?
Lmbo … with social media there is no mercy 
Reboot, restart, refresh, and reroute…everything is going berserk 
Have you noticed the” next big thing” doesn’t see to work
Spending quality time and loving our family and friends can't be ignored
It is so God like and beautiful, that is for sure
These social media sites are running our lives and it shows
What would we do without Facebook and twitter, no one knows 
Just in case everything crashes we need to be able to write sentences
Face to face verbal communications are essential for our existence
Technological addiction is leading to a more isolated generation 
Although technology can be profitable, it must be used in moderation

Exodus 20:2-17I am the Lord thy God and thou shalt not have strange gods before me.  

Details | Computer Poem | |

Computer Chair Woes: A Collaboration with Chris :D Aechtner

How do people do it?
For that matter, how do I pull it off?
Sitting in front of the computer for so many hours,
body compressed into a computer chair.
Feel a whole decade older than I actually am-
aching bones,
stiff joints,
sore muscles.
Eyes all dried out
as I get up from the chair
with a cramped neck,
my back temporarily doubled over
until my muscles warm up and loosen a little.

Tired, I slink back into my err-NO-Go-meek (ergonomic?!) chair
I check my butt...wiggle a bit...
Damn. Still spacious?? I want to feel SNUG!
So I sink my teeth into 4 inches of
Chunky Hunky Mega Chocolate Cocoa Cuckoo Overload Bar
Mmmm, this will go straight to my ass...

...there, it finally happened....officially lodged into the computer chair-
knew better than to eat so much chocolate while sitting for hours.
Too embarrassed to call an emergency crew,
I will have to wheel around the house, stuck in this chair,
until enough calories have burned away,
enabling me to dislodge these chocolaty buttocks
and taste some upright, biped freedom again.

Figured I could start losing those calories
by going on a mouse clicking frenzy
Flexing my pointer finger, I start clicking away
Click....click...click...'til a tic in my eye develops
Yup, don't care what I'm clicking on,
as long as that staccato beat resonates in my ears...
fingertips sweating, I go into a trance-

fall asleep at the keyboard,
image of the screen imprinted on my retinas,
dreaming about clicking the mouse.
Fast clicks, slow clicks, double and triple-clicks!
Many hours afterwards, 
the sound is still trapped in my brain,
slowly driving me completely insane-
*click*  *click, click*  *clickety-click*

How do people do it?
For that matter, how do I pull it off?
Sitting in front of the computer for hours on end...
My good ol' mouse answered that for me
It rolled over my arm,
massaged me on my back and shoulders,
taking out the knots in the process
and headed straight to my butt, just wedged itself in, snuggled there
*click!* *click* *Clickety-clickkk!*
my butt cheeks were now doing the clicking
This is beyond me, never knew I could do that!
Pain shoots up my thighs--going higher
Uggh. Butt cramps!
Shaking my head, I reach for the mouse,
instead, my fingers touch something soft, sticky...brown
Ah, yes!
My butt is glued to my chair with             chocolate.


             *click!*




07302011

-- well I sure enjoyed writing this one with Chris ;) 

Details | Computer Poem | |

The Job Interview

The HR person called me in… I was turning gray… Was he even twenty-one?
I wondered if the interview would go well, as he did fung shui the chairs around.
Offered a caramel expresso mocha late decaf, I told him I took my coffee black.
Alas my friend, it got progressively worse, this: our proverbial generational gap.

He asked me to explain, how I’d be the best personnel fit, for this illustrious job.
Ah! Experience I had in abounds, as I pulled out a 100-page resume, neatly bound.
That question, had me off and running, but I knew, I was in some trouble when…
I saw his eyes glaze over, and he ask me, ‘Have we made it into space yet?’

He smirked, when he ask, about ‘Recent’ applicable education, in the last 5 years.
I condensed my course certifications till he nearly fell off, his crazy chair, my dear!
He ask the projects worked on, unfortunately, all were government secret classified. 
So I added some of the numerous skills, that had been applied, till he almost cried.

I started with the job descriptions, but he didn’t like… that the names were so long.
And the abbreviations normally used, in this line of work, almost blew his mind.
Though I also got the feeling, he may have thought that I’d finally, lost mine, since…
My accomplishments had scads of stuff he’d never, ever, be able to comprehend...

You know, ‘things’ about the job, HR doesn’t care about or bother to be clued in.
Luckily all was saved, before the interviewers’ jaw, hit the floor around his chair.
Using a power point presentation, illustrations appeared, giving him a better clue.
I even gave him a burned DVD, set to the music of  ‘Live Free or Die Hard’, too.

He ask about items, he’d never heard of, you know, from way before he was born.
But got the feeling he’d be more attentive, talking about a computer game going on.
I didn’t lie about a thing, it’s not my fault some Companies are now closed down!
But I felt things were somewhat a success, as security finally came to lead me out…

Unfortunately, in the end, they hired a young one, and I couldn’t understand why.
He was a quiet, little, studious kid, who didn’t say a thing, but had stars in his eyes.
He didn’t understand any of the work involved, but his pay would be next to none.
But that's whom they got: until that company closed for work that couldn’t be done.

All because the HR Department didn't help them get the workers they did need.
I became self-employed, developing computer games, all the rage! Oh So Sweet!
Yes, I became a millionaire, with my own company, without HR, anywhere seen!
Now, we develop rockets to go into space, where I felt, that HR person should be.

Dedicated to all those Middle aged people stressed out after looking for a job.
Wife and Hubby Collaboration

Details | Computer Poem | |

AFRICA

         AFRICA
All eyes look at her,
All spears, arrows pointed at her,
All fingers point at her,
All what shows direction,
Yes the explorers, they want to rape her.

Your culture is very rich,
Don’t spice your richness,
Don’t put pepper in your soup,
It will spoil the broth,
Yes keep your culture to yourself.

Don’t swallow vinegar,
Don’t lose your virginity,
Keep it for your husband,
Your great grandmothers did,
Yes your richness got retained.

They came as preacher, explorers and inventors,
They spoilt the minds of your sons,
How horrible they raped her in face of you,
Now the sons of her raping her,
Yes she is crying you stop.

Cry for preservation of culture,
Cry of the oak, stop deforestation
Cry of bribery, stop corruption,
Cry of pollution, preserve your environment,
Let’s all make it a better place to live.


 

Details | Computer Poem | |

Internet-doc

Welcome to the internet,
Where basic freedoms are embedded into the hard drives.
Where the memes help you through life.
Where Socially Awkward Penguin holds the door open too long, while Socially Awesome Penguin opens it for a lovely girl.
Where Scumbag Steve shows us the scumbag in all of us, and Good Guy Greg shows us our goodness.
The memes may describe the human actions, but not always the human thoughts.

Wordpress and blogger anger people, yet pushes them to protest.
Twitter, allowing little snippets from your brain escape, all in 140 characters or less of course.
Friendster, the hipsters’ domain of range.
Facebook being fought over by teenagers and adults since 2005.
YouTube, the keeper of memories, keeper of pain, keeper of anger, keeper of happiness, keeper of love.
Vevo,  the music video enthusiasts’ devil, and God.
Welcome to the internet, It’s  just a world fashioned by 0’s and 1’s that seems too real... 

Details | Computer Poem | |

::COMPUTER IS HELPFUL::

COMPUTER IS HELPFUL,
BUT SOMETIMES, THEY CONTAIN//
A BIT BAD AND UNWANTED THINGS.
LIKE, HAVING BAD WAORDS POSTED.
COMPUTER IS HELPFUL,
INA SENSE OF//
MAKING OUR WORK EASIER AND
OF COURSE, FASTER
COMPUTER IS HELPFUL TO US
SO, DON'T USE IT IN A WRONG WAY.

Details | Computer Poem | |

Compassionate Computer Guy To His Love

Come chat with me and be my special friend
And we will all the internet explore
The blogs, the webs, the hours we’ll spend
We’ll hack and open each forbidden door

There we will sit at our desks
And listen to  those in cubicles
As we drink our Red Bulls sitting at rest
Melodious sounds from infinite electricals 

And I will make thee a bed recycled vellum
As the fragrance of ink and chemicals meld in
A cap of vines and violet plastic flowers
We’ll sit at our computers and wile away the hours