Best Computerized Poems
..............I could write you
...................poetic images
...............that would make
............other women drool.
...............Speak of sunsets
...........wired, computerized
....................................to
.....................................P
...................................PU
..............................PULSE
............ ...to the rhythm of
.........your striking features
B............Build you a ladder
.............from light, that we
..............could climb to the
..............gates of euphoria.
..............Tell you that they
.............named it after you
E..........................Ecstasy.
............I could and I would
.........but I know you better
.......... ....than that. I know
.....................what you like.
.........................I can taste
..............it on my buds. You
....................want a man of
......................simple words
..................spun from truth.
A.........A man that will never
.........run out on you. A man
..............that when you hold
......................is steady and
.............rooted. I am steady
..............and rooted but also,
...........I am in love with you.
U............Not by the waterfall
.........or against the light of a
..........full moon. Not walking
...................along the beach
....................while the ocean
..............whispers in my ears.
............. I love you first thing
.......even on a dingy morning.
........................I love you on
...........evenings when it is so
.........cloudy there is not even
................one star in the sky.
........It is just dark. I love you
.........when we're on separate
.......couches reading different
.......books. When we're alone
...........or together in a crowd
.......I love you from the other
........side of the room. On the
.......first floor when you're on
....the twenty third. When you
.....have a cold and even more
........when you are sicker still.
T.....The simple truth is you're
.........stuck with me from now
.............to eternity........why?
Y.................because the best
............part about you is that
.........I know you love me too.
01~22~2015
Sponsor: Rhonda
Contest: Hidden Beauty
Categories:
computerized, beauty,
Form:
Free verse
Whenever you feel lost
Or when you feel to reset
To look back and feel refreshed
Click the “Home” key
It’ll open the door to inner prosperity
A heart filled with joy
For there’s no place like home
When you feel like something is missing
Or you are missing something
You look through the woods and see a forest
You finally decide to run away, don’t!
Click the “insert” key
It’ll make space for a missing heart
A missing soul
Or a missing leter
Then the letter makes a word whole
No need to panic, insert!
Each time you feel you wronged someone
Or there’s something making you look or feel terrible
There’s a key called “backspace”
You can hit it way back to fix all the wrongs
All the mistakes that find you mistaken
Forgiveness is such a key, no, backspace
A sure way to fix things
Anytime you foresee danger
Trouble lingering ahead, impatiently waiting for you
You know you’ll lose it
You’ll lose her, him, them
Click on “delete”
It’s there to save you from the bad
It’s not gonna happen
It’s never gonna happen
Then you know you are safe
When you feel squashed and need to make way...
When things are compressed and you need to breathe
Take a walk and visit “space”
Bet you’ll need this guy as often
Might become great friends
Don’t be afraid, you need air
And space is there to give it to you
Sometimes, in order to go forward
One needs to reflect
See what you have, or have had
Some highlights or flashbacks
Can go a long way
You need “PrtSc”, print screen in full
To observe for you what you cannot
Through the naked eye of ignorance
Reflect, it’s a good part of moving on
One wouldn’t argue that
Now and again you could use a “tab”
From one place to another
Hop forward, this is a slow train
Why not adjust and keep the format most suitable for you
This is your life, take a tab!
Whatever life throws at you
You know you are the only one
Who is in possession of this special key
It’s a key to happiness
It’ll transport you to any place you ever want to go
It’ll give you anything you need, and want
This key has a name, like no other
“Ctrl” is the only key you can ever use whenever you want to
It’s never far from you
It’s on both your right and your left hand side
Always reachable, always available
You should try it sometimes
Life can be computerized
But what if a computer is personalized?
Categories:
computerized, cheer up, encouraging, inspirational,
Form:
Free verse
You do not know.
Well I do know.
I say it is already here.
It is computerized.
And becoming more cashless every day
Clean your cache.
Categories:
computerized, community, computer, confusion, corruption,
Form:
How dare you rape our lands? Enslaved to boundaries? We? Who were born but free.
our noon's ravaged? Assaulted our moons? We? Who were born but free.
Our minds enslaved to technology, materialism and wrecked earthly laws,
to computerized systems? Hijackers? We? Who were born but free.
Enslaved to the past, to the history, to wistful moments,
to skin colors, and to the chairs? We? Who were born but free.
To pretty women enslaved some men, or to cigarettes,
become slaves of drugs, and addicted to alcohol? We? Who were born but free.
And here I am, the poetess, who's enslaved to poetry,
to hymns and rhymes, and to fine prosody, I, who was born but free.
Categories:
computerized, drug, feelings, slavery,
Form:
Ghazal
change, poetess, poetry, poets, word play, write, writing,
Brain ‘Fly By’ Writer/Righter©
I need a fresh 'brain-poet’ tongue twist
My editing with ‘guess work’ is on the fly
And makes me become one sour 'baked sugar pie’
But, I am fifty percent correct with Spell Check here
It takes just one flick of the wrist, to be brought on hand
Best invention since the ‘worded’ dictionary in Poet-land!
Editing tools cannot be bought, bribed or 'dreamt' just learned
All works abutted into bad grammatical writs do become burned
And won’t ‘rise’ into full creativity level and will be marked
I need a computerized (edited) grammatical ‘checking tool, please
This would make #2 ‘inventiveness’ since Poetry 101 the schooled way!!!
Categories:
computerized, change, poetess, poetry, poets,
Form:
Verse
Yes, indeed,
I'm not quite up to speed,
These days, anyway...
Let me tell you, if I may...
The 20 odd meds I must take,
Each and every day...
Hope you got the space in your hard drive,
To see what it takes, to keep me alive...
First, the conditions...Ventricular Fibrillation (Life threatening heart condition,
which brought me tons of seizures...and emergency heart surgery within an
hour...they implanted in my heart a computerized "Defibrillator" miniture version
of those big electric pads you see on TV medical scenes, where they
go: "Charge! Now!!" and the electric shock makes the body jump. I was told it
was that, or be dead in a month. And when the battery dies, it starts beeping
inside my chest...no doubt I'll be in a movie theatre at the movie's climax, and be
tossed by the usher (do they still have those?)....Second is COPD, today's term
for emphyzema...a degenerative lung disease...where suddenly you cannot
breath, you literally drown in a sea of air....This is a peachy one, has me in the
hospital 10 times a year, plus far more suseptible to goodies like pneumonia...
which I have gotten several times, and from which I just recently recovered.
The prognosis is poor, it is incurable, progressive (contantly getting worse),
terminal...I will eventually suffocate...and I'm always with a variety of inhalers and
nebulizers...a plug in version I got from a ex-co-worker's wife, with the same
disease, but much better specialists than me, although she died from it 2 years
ago, oddly, on my birthday (2-28) hmmmmm.....I already have a plot for me and
my Rosie...lovely place....I've survived bladder cancer twice...another benefit from
my long ago days of smoking -quit in 1994- when this first showed up- I'd go to
urinate, and pure blood would flow...naturally it soon clogged, and I swelled up
with blood....came real, real close to dead several times...and I'm not a
recreational drug user...so the pain was aweful, and the later Dr. check-ups a
fearful affair...a fiber optic camera inserted up the *****....any male's worse
nightmare...with good reason, the pain is unreal...It's my third favorite past time to
being beheaded, being castrated (near the same thing), and being burned at the
stake. Continued...
Categories:
computerized, adventure, angst, health, recovery
Form:
Bio
The Complicated World
The world has become so complicated
People never talk to people
Electronics do the talking for us
Our phones take away private time
We are never truly alone
Cars tell us where to go
And what we should see on the way
Newspapers aren’t made of paper
Delivered through the air to our screens
The same with books
Turning the page just isn’t cool anymore
200+ channels to make everyone a star
Even if you do not have talent to will be an idol
Concerts and sports are televised
So you don’t have to leave the house
God forbid you gather together with other people
The kids are called to dinner by email
Bullying doesn’t take place on the schoolyard
Even surgeries are done by doctors a thousand miles away
Everything is done without seeing the other person
When will the day come when things will get worse
People will completely forget how to talk to each other
It will be hard to remember what another human being looks like
Babies will be conceived through a website
And even a child’s rattle with be computerized
Whatever happened to the good old days
When people got to meet other people
Eat together or share a beer together
Even fight together
Without something telling them what to do
Or talking for them
This world is confusing
I pray for a return to the good old days
When a calculator was the only computer I owned
And I looked people in the eyes and said hello
Categories:
computerized, society,
Form:
Free verse
EPISODE I
ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE COLONIZATION OF OUR GALAXY
ALPHA-582 LOVES ZL-236
Countless eons ago
Beings made self replicating androids
And they did it for no other reason
Than to fill some strange void
Then dispatched without mercy
Creating according to their construct
Metal gods thinking in digital
With big plans for their living products
A domino of worlds fall
Their creators long ago extinct
An assembly line of new life
Eden and programming inevitably linked
Slowly weaning us from emotions
Taking pride in new technology
Our genes sparkle with absurd vanity
When we behold our sophisticated machines
Aspiring to become numbers
Stoicism a heroic virtue
We ridicule the idea of love
As virtual escape we pursue
More eons quickly pass
Humans grotesquely computerized
Quietly screaming in spiritual despair
One day we begin looking toward the sky
And then contact with another system
We look at them in disbelief
Our features are almost identical
And we cry when our wireless comes in sync
Like finding unknown siblings
We embrace almost without cease
With forbidden tears we find comfort
As we plug into each other's USB
I ask if there are others
As numerous as the stars I'm told
And I begin formulating a plan
To destroy this pitiless mold
Then I see a beautiful specimen
I like how she wears her fiber optics
Hi, I'm Alpha-582, I say
She says, Hi, I'm ZL-236
END OF EPISODE I
Categories:
computerized, love, science fiction,
Form:
Free verse
Customers are like bouquets of flowers passing through our twenty-four hours.
Breakfast, lunch, or dinner all 365 calendar days guaranteed for a full twenty-four seven.
“Hello Sir”! Welcome to Waffle House America’s favorite place to eat!
Some say we are the closest thing next to God's Great Heaven!
We have a confusing language of our own, the blabbering towers of the real “April Showers”
Service with a smile that has walked the many hard-earned extra tenths of miles,
Nothing computerized with files, just organized by our own genuine unique styles.
Waitresses are serving with hard enduring time and each crosses over a mighty fine line,
Master grill operators optimize a divine talent marking your plates perfectly aligned.
Friday and Saturday nights the party train arrives blessed coffee to the many lips we’ll revive.
Regulars and irregulars you’re served just the same, pardon me did I really get your name?
Loud ones, quiet ones, and even the picky ones strive to come back to us,
Here we bring back the basics of being alive.
Scattered, smothered, covered, chunked, diced, peppered, capped, or topped?
So do you want them “All the way or just partly aflame”!
Young, old, or different at being indifferent just being sane,
Especially when the “Waffle House Way” is to say the first “HELLO”!
“Morning Mam”! Can I get you your usual or will you be having something different “TO GO”?
Brief moments of insanity with the moods that walk through our doors,
Thank God for every single one of those Jukeboxes!
The quality of service opening an eye to the sly foxes,
We’d really be in trouble if we sold liquors!
Foreign, military, and even civilian are in and out,
Our servers are like the gold stored at Fort Knox.
So what can we get you today that you haven’t already had before?
“The Waffle House Way” America shouts!
It’s like being home because that’s what we are all about.
Categories:
computerized, adventure, allegory, confusion, devotion,
Form:
Narrative
The honky-tonk music of ferris wheel rides
Still enchant, as I used to stretch my hands
To gather a chain of moondust above
A glittered skytop, while the breeze drones
Evening's jubilant melody:
And the lilting rhythm of a float's cadence thrills
While girlhood days screech after three, four circles
As Daddy laughs, bringing forth the sizzle
Of warm hotdogs. O, how memorable
the hushabye from a rickety carousel.
But life seems absurdly mechanical today,
Where robotic noise reigns the game, zooming:
How plastic tickets computerized would never
Become dulcet memoirs gently tucked
Within a musical box. How modern scheme changes
A once-anticipated warble of the ringmaster...
Crooning youth's jingle as carnival arrives:
Now, a recorded playlist jigs; I feel numb.
11/1/2017
Written for Eve Rover's The Sounds of the Past
Theme: Photo 1
Categories:
computerized, celebration, nostalgia,
Form:
Light Verse
Coming back from a college class, feeling tired
I crawl on top on my bed for a midday nap and slip into a blissful sleep. Aroused from slumber, my bed shaking violently and turning , I expect to see a human, recognizable and known to me. Familiar and welcome.
There is no one.
Checking to see I am awake
Checking to see if I am alone.
Checking my mental state to find derangement.
Nothing .
Dismissed,
I start to slip into the slumber and it shakes again. I am hyper alert
Wide awake. I ask myself Is it really shaking
Yes.
My eyes open and I go to rebuke what this is and it enters without warning-
In through the top of my head following a path leading to where my soul resides, it screams at me in foreign tongue.
Computerized, synthesized, screeching and vile.
The voice drips with evil, hate and threatens to touch the core of my human essence.
I am in danger of replacement.
I am being hijacked for this body
My soul runs from this entity and screams for our maker to witness this violation, to raise His sword at this reptile, to help me fight the unseen.
It is forced back out through the top of my head and I lay there sweating, panting, contorted. Violated.Impure.
Tainted and broken, I feel terrorized.
At my next sleep, I am awakened to find I cannot move my body- only my eyes and I hear that voice laughing at me. Mocking me. Reminding me he is there, stalking me and waiting for me to drop my guard.
The worst part of it all friends....
This story is true.
6 seconds. Changed me for eternity.
Take heed. This really happens to people.
They call this a " walk-in". Soul interchange.
Where a human soul is replaced with a demon.
So yes, they walk amongst us.
When you wonder how people can do some of what they do-
Now you know- because they aren't people.
05/06/2021 sponsor- Funom Makana
Categories:
computerized, dark, evil, truth,
Form:
Free verse
Pick up the pieces, the remnants of
your folly, you few who shuffle the
decks of life. So few to guide ones
destiny, giving quality or lack of,
to your indigenous subjects.
Contesting paladins that manipulate
every move, each infinitesimal pawn
representing a million fold, facing
extinction from each perpetrating
venomous queen, masquerading in her
veil of respectability, whilst
threatening in all directions, just
seeking to intimidate before
striking the ultimate blow for her
player. A stalemate situation
giving both sides honour without
loss, but whom gives a through to
the mother’s, are not her losses the
nations also, are not her tears
programmed, her emotions computerized
into your warring brain?
Who! Are these unmoralistic
puppeteers, those ignominious players
of the ultimate game, those that
stand behind courteous expressions
of decency, love and respect?
“The kings of this game,” Them to be
written into the annals of life,
giving intent of emulation to
future disciples. “History has no
past, no future, just a recurring
theme, only the names change”
© Harry J Horsman 1990
Categories:
computerized, political,
Form:
Free verse
Humdumpty was an analyst, a Cambridge Ph.D.,
A noted bio-atomist, whatever that might be.
Indeed, from earliest childhood it was his single aim
To analyze no matter what might enter his domain.
He analyzed his father's watch and next the neighbour's cat.
Ah! Little more was seen or heard of Felix after that.
Astounding learned pedagogues, hard pressed to keep his pace,
Humdumpty grew up daily--in knowledge if not grace.
And then at university his intellectual power
Decimated Einstein and the works of Schopenhauer.
With ease that was amazing he romped a Double First,
And yet, for all his learning, nought quenched his burning thirst.
Despite the storm, and tumult that marked his inner life,
Humdumpty found the leisure to woo--and win--a wife.
He loved her--Oh! so dearly, his idol and his joy!
Alack! How oft our dearest 'tis we ourselves destroy.
One day in stormy weather he raised his eyes above,
And posed himself the riddle: "What constitutes her love?"
One night--to angels' weeping--the dark thought seized his mind:
"By scalpel and analysis the answer I shall find."
Full soon she took a sleeping draught, and when the time was due,
He set about his gruesome task, inspired by love so true.
How tenderly, how lovingly, he cut into her heart.
With what profound emotion he set his spouse apart.
To isolate that molecule in which all love resides
He scrutinized each corpuscle, and did much else besides.
All data was computerized, and ere a while had passed,
A reasonable hypothesis was imminent at last.
How tantalizing is the truth, how far--and yet, how near!
'Twas in the corner of his eye--and then would disappear.
It dawned at last upon him, his efforts would prove vain,
Unless he somehow managed to join her up again.
Of every art that served this end he tried the whole range through.
He first tried biophysics--and his last resort was glue.
Alas, alas, Humdumpty! There is a fateful law:
Some things men set asunder no mortal can restore.
They did not need a hangman or Madame Guillotine.
Before another week had passed, he died of bitter spleen.
Now some say he's in Heaven, and others, he's in Hell.
I'm not a theologian, it's difficult to tell.
For sure, he cut his dear wife up, and who would call that right?
But was it not his quest for truth that brought about his plight?
Categories:
computerized, allegory, husband, science,
Form:
Didactic
If people could be like computers
We could change our past and future
A button we’d just have to press
To avoid a lot of stress
That comes with life everyday
We could make it go away
By pushing the word delete
Letting our troubles retreat
Giving us loads of protection
From it coming back again
Mistakes no one could ever have
With the helpful button back
One click and it would help us solve
Our problems before they evolve
Into harmful things we’ve done
Always making things go wrong
Our futures something to look toward
If our fingers touch fast forward
Allowing us to look ahead
So there"s nothing we should dread
As we see what is in store
And stop bad things way before
They make our lives to complex
We wouldn’t have to face the test
Of not knowing what we should do
We would have the answers to
Everything we have to learn
On second thought I’ll just return
To all of the uncertainties
And surprises that life brings
So I when I wake up each morning
My life will never be boring
Categories:
computerized, computer, life, people,
Form:
Rhyme
The Valley Of Love And Delight':
An anniversary feting mine birth (date),
a plan we almost didst ditch
nonetheless the general game plan
soared like an Eagle,
and went off swimmingly (into a dive)
hence we chose Wegman's with doll finned porpoise
minus a sue per stevedore tailored hitch
cuz the China Jade restaurant
near Collegeville Redner's
nearly felt cold as ice dining niche
as if we accidentally
got highjacked to Siberia
where heat took precedence
verses restaurateur eatery reputable pitch
thus despite praise worthy Yelp reviewers,
whether they be named Poe or Rich
hard, earning their keep whose fingers
hut till lee diploid across
warp and weft to stitch
together disparate threads
weaving a webbed whirled Magnum Opus
where thoughts analogous
to this aspiring paperback writer exerts,
(whose muscles twitch)
in an attempt for phalanges
tortured as going every which
way with to craft a non ode us paean
from deep within thy bowel
applying me magical diving rod –
essentially a computerized dowel
which makes a dinging sound,
or emitting an odor most fetid and fowl
unintentionally inducing creatures
large and small to howl
at the abominable cursing and swearing
using languages that lack a vowel
sound - clouding ability to communicate
to remain steadfast
with intent thwarted by (third eye blind)
minor detour of fate
three doors down and celebrate modestly,
NEVER thought to "FAKE"
forgo wing NOR deferring
time to be spent with
a gluten and MSG free
NON GMO endearing sibling
NO whey iz she dee snide dour twisted sister
hood moost likely become irate
invested in marriage to a loving mate.
Categories:
computerized, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue