Feeling like a lodger
In my own home
Thankful for my music
And my new found roam
Families and communities
They are just so hard to find
But in April 2009
I found the most precious kind
I found the name amusing
So the button i clicked on to see
The layout was very inviting
Like an open door should be
For in a matter of minutes
On first uploading a poem
This Highlander was content
He had found a welcome home
So many lovely writers
Poets who share their bless
No longer this Scotsman is
The Man in the Wilderness
And I walk
across numerical figments
speaking hyperbole dialect to their imaginations.
Numb, blocky gaps
whisper invitation to secret club.
Enticing my stature
to become exponent’s side-kick.
So they can welcome me with open arms.
Coating my digits with inoperable tumors
double-knotted in hot pink laced bow
and baby-breath scent.
They even left a Walmart Rollback smiley face sticker
with crack residue on right cheek
and a comic-style bubble caption, “welcome home puppet”.
This is exactly how Mother 1 told me it would be.
Kinda like marriage,
but less detail-oriented.
But, I could never fit in.
For I am neither positive
about their (cult) ural ways.
Timing would always be off.
An arm from the clock that suffered a stroke at Midnight…
They’d never understand,
how they’d alter this unevenly, odd numerical figment.
For they’ll just calculate,
my sum with rusty protractor.
This Zero, into a fraction...
© Drake J. Eszes
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)
Who's in charge here?
Can't they hear us?
No ear, perhaps!
*Inspired by technical difficulties on the Soup and written for Dr. Ram's Than-Bauk contest.
Tapped messages go out direct
With phones it's an easy connect
Thoughts from a finger
In cyberspace linger
But touching's too much to expect
Reposted tribute to Mr. Tom Bell, as per Christy's call for all who had the pleasure of
knowing Tom to write a poem for him. :)
How is it that someone can touch
Your very soul,
Without ever having met
Face to face?
How is it that my heart lies shattered
Upon this desolate plane
Without ever having seen the cause
For its breaking?
How can I put into words
What I am feeling,
When my red heart that writes,
Is now cold and blue with regret?
You called upon me to share
A past, funny remembrance you penned –
(A bad day at the eye doctor's)
And I swear to you, I tried to find it!
But your long, Tom list of heart words daunted me…
And after a few pages. I gave up.
I told you this, and you tried again to show me
But this dumb blonde just could not find it…
I searched and searched until it was found.
It took me until you passed
To read the poem you wished to share,
And man, is it funny!
You had me laughing and crying
At the same time!
I left you a comment
That you will never read –
And my heart cries for being too late.
It is now, and forever will be
on my Favorites list.
I want you to know how much I love
(And will forever miss)
Your true Tom Tales…
Your words brought your kind soul to light;
Your voice wrapped itself around
My heart like vines,
Baring the most beautiful
I am honored to have met your soul,
And called you friend;
Thank you for listening to my trials and life story,
And for all of your wise advice.
You were the strongest man I have ever known -
You inspired me to shine.
So how is it that someone can touch a soul
Without ever having met
Face to face?
Ah, for here,
Within words –
Within poetry, we meet
Within hearts, where our souls
For a moment,
Upon a page of
Pain, love, dreams, hurts, strengths, hopes, fears, and
True Tom Tales –
Thank God for poetry,
And for those we share it with.
Suddenly, all my troubles
Don’t feel so important now.
See? You are teaching me even now,
How to LIVE!
Because you just never know, do you?
You reminded me all we have is today,
This now – and I love you for that.
Rest easy my friend,
Where there is only love
And poetry spoken by angels…
Tom, dear - I will miss you more than words can express, your were strong
beyond words...fare thee well friend, peace has found you at last. XOXO
seperated by the sea
Though I rest my weary head
The way is barred to slumber’s bed
Fare thee wells still left unsaid
Too long walked these roads to shed
Gate is tall and closed fast
My greatest fear I find surpassed
How could it be that this comes to pass?
I am defeated here at last
Night in sky whispers regret
Of endless travels I can’t forget
Abandoned by those still unmet
I sit and dwell on my plans, upset
“Let it go,” windy whispers spout
“Worry no more for this ‘round-a-bout”
“Tomorrow, victory!” I stand and shout
I turn, I sit and then I log out.
For months I’ve partitioned – sectored my strife
Trying to determine – wrong from the right
Clinging to bits – healing the bytes
Moving and changing – formatting new life
My career crashed – with it my dreams
Memory erased – circuits burned clean
Connection to love – garbled and crossed
Power was fading – all color lost
A new system needed – more power and thrill
New creativity – speed and the skill
Designing new backup – restoring my line
Application of will – turn tables on time
Tap my known current – discarding old woes
Erase obsolete system – vanquish all foes
Move to the center – empower self trust
Stun all the comers – lightning fast thrust
No longer lie down – and wait for the call
Stand up and fight – pin them to the wall
Knowing I’m better – than any machine
Time to arise – from a protracted dream
And so I forgo – all advice of claimed best
Listen inside – put myself to the test
It’s hard but I’m winning – getting better by day
Pain is less troubling – I’ll continue this way