I let clouds hang on
to soften the right and wrong—
with blur of maybes
tinting decisions with gray
letting light, shade interplay.
Thoughts flock like soft mists
refusing to pass away
drift half-seen, half-known—
in between seen and unseen
as truths partially revealed.
When clarity fades
I blur the edges to gray—
squint out-of-focus
to brush on some in-between
to learn what analog streams.
Sunlight beams are straight
broken clouds direct their blaze
like searchlights panning
the ground for something missing
in ordered partial reveals.
The adventurous long for a journey
to the edge of knowledge and beyond;
You cannot quell the fire in the
desire for an education withheld;
As technology explodes unfolding,
a wave of information rushes by;
It sits patient for a hungry grasping;
The intrigued and the doubt-ridden
possess the same breed of tenacity;
When you have tools to play with
it’s not difficult to stay resilient;
The gluttonous nature of curiosity
is no longer stifled by living analog.
Some are preys
Many are under control
Acting to feel worthy
Many for applause
Some for attention
Others just for the money
They've lost their self esteem.
Manipulation them agenda
To rule over your mind
Control one against another
Steady promoting betrayals
They have no self concepts
Steadily lacking self awareness.
Many are folly
Wanna be like another
Forgetting their uniqueness
Believing in void, empty promises
They live in deceit, acting weirdo
Thinking
They can ride on everybody and get away with it.
There once was a young man named Davos
Who thought he was quite the bravado
He saw a young lady, fair and petite
And thought he'd give it his best shot, neat.
He walked up to her with a smile on his face
And tried to impress her with his charm and grace
But alas, he was socially awkward and shy
And the words he spoke came out all awry.
He stuttered and stammered, he tripped and he fell
The lady just looked at him, unimpressed and cold
She stood there in her high heels, hair done just so
And Dave knew he had no chance, oh no.
But little did she know, as she stood there so poised
That she, too, felt awkward and ill-disposed
She wished they had met on social media, where
She could hide behind her avatar, cool and debonair.
But alas, they were stuck in this awkward reality
Where Dave was a bumbling fool and she, just a girl
But maybe, just maybe, if they had met online
They could have had a chance, a love so divine.
So here's to all the awkward folks out there
Who wish they could hide behind a screen and a chair
Don't be afraid to be yourself, my friend
You never know, love might just be waiting on the analog end.
Putrid analog
Get back in your drawer
And mop up your scorn
From off the floor
A filthy wretch
With a shuffling gait
Draining creamy slop
Go back in your crate
Anachronistic stiffy
Slinking through time
Infinite punishment
For an infinite crime
Vincent Procopio 2003
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