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
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2009
I took a book out of the library
where it must have stood amidst
its brethren for 25 years, unused,
unborrowed-- I know this because
its pages were crisp, never bent
by a greedy reader, and yellow
from time's effect, a drug that
ages books as it does readers....
Someday I guess all books, both
the virgins and the overly used,
even abused, will be no more: all
replaced by sterile zeros & ones,
and my future self will never again
have the soft pleasure of turning
endless pages, feeling tangible
the words of some distant mind.
Copyright © L. J. Carber | Year Posted 2017
We all surf the internet to do shopping online
Chat with our friends and to have a good time
But there's bullies' who surf it causing great hurt
They're the internet trolls, the scum of the earth.
They're the faceless cowards who sit behind a screen
Who always get away with it, because they're never seen
And the bereaved suffering loss, who struggle to grieve
The vile messages they receive, you would not believe.
The disabled are targeted and so are the sick
By the internet trolls who get some sort of kick
People with skin colour be it brown, white or black
They are often subjected to a vile racist attack.
Young girls who are worried about how they are seen
Are ridiculed and abused while they look at their screen
The mentally ill and suicidal, those unfortunate souls
Are encouraged to commit suicide by the internet trolls.
Time after time you see and read on the news
Someone who's been targeted by online abuse
Their spirits crushed and their confidence marred
Some are left suicidal and emotionally scarred.
Who are these trolls ?, they could be your friends or mine
But become the face of evil when they go online
Social media and governments' you know all about it too
So please could you tell me what you're going to do ?.
Copyright © Tom Cunningham | Year Posted 2018
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
Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2010
WE BECAME FRIENDS BY ONE CLICK
I am from east you are from... west? North? South?
to whichever place you're from, hear my happy shout! :D
Remember the first moment I said hi and hello
you did not repel instead you appeal like magneto...
You... I never seen. I never heard
but you hug my heart with your words.
You are as yellow as the rising sun
but sometimes sad you make my tears run
with the heart-to-heart stories we share.
Maybe because we are thousand miles apart
defensive barriers and built-in walls we tear
bubbling free is our blossoming fresh start.
There is a clue when you are feeling blue
this when you drew views lacking hues.
Of humour, you may not hear my thunder laugh
nor behold my grin that is whole or half
but so sweet you are always there- a care bear!
Nights and days passed, we want to more than chat
like a meteor, we did try this voice-call...
Spark! I heard your voice, my oh my, I rejoiced!
Your presence a present whenever no one is there
for when I push the button "send", time you spare
to reply, you care... "Thank you" is all I say.
More, you even said: "You'll add me to your pray'r"
Internet signals like unstable ECG antagonizing our talk,
I thank our Dear God our bond as strong as a rock,
months rolled, we discovered we could duet to write
verses singing rhymes, flying high our own kite...
To the whole wide moving world, I want them to know
if persons are honest and sincere they will surely grow
as finding true people-- there are risks. Dig in but do it slow
'cause real persons are as precious as gems that glow
MY CYBER FAMILY - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Mystic Rose
POEM OF THE DAY: JULY 04, 2015
OLIVE ELOISA GUILLERMO
11:42 pm, July 02, 2015
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2015
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)
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011
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
Copyright © Duke Beaufort | Year Posted 2013
Facebook I wonder if you are a blessing or a curse?
People Sharing their pictures and videos of their best and worst.
Clever sayings, obscenities, prays and vulgarity.
Show up on your pages with some form of regularity.
You will find people you have seen or haven’t seen for years.
Laughing one minute and then shedding a river of tears.
Selfies of woman showing what God has given them to cherish
Proudly displaying themselves when they should be embarrassed.
Religion and Politics is a good way to stir the emotional pot.
Both thinking their right when you know for sure they’re not.
You can share your likes, dislikes and give a comment or two
But be careful not to be too honest or you might just be removed.
Games of every kind you will find here for your pleasures delight
Sending requests to people even when they don’t want your invite.
Facebook is a place people display their everyday life with others
Making statements that could hurt or showing love for your mother.
Facebook is not the one I should blame for what it shows on its feed
It’s just an empty space to fill with life’s true nature for others to read.
So before you post your thoughts and feelings in this open space
Ask yourself would this be something I would be willing to share face to face?
Copyright © Erin Soares-Anselmi | Year Posted 2014
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
Copyright © JIm Culhane | Year Posted 2005
Keyboards smash for a night owl like me
Refreshing the page; you won’t agree
To open the sites as eyes can’t track
web-links; now comes my panic attack.
Deadline begs the hard drive, “ oh, please load”
Yet, horrid creatures romp in your abode;
The mouse, bugs, and plants versus zombies!
Hey, Dell; stop ruling technology.
With one naughty virus, you are junk
A darn gadget Windows can debunk.
Now,who leads this port, man or machine
My files are saved,well dear PC, I win!
Carol Eastman's Computer Contest
-Plants versus Zombies is an online game
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2015
Copyright © Tyesha Ehigiator | Year Posted 2009
I believe that poetry is and of is was were have has been of as one pretenses a
poetic practical pompous, pro (p) ransomedramatical pretense
pretending to prose promise a
predictive premise primotory practicum politicallty
polishing practcoriam process of primary
preliminary postures pragmatic promulgates
telling the ta ta tumulutious tillo tales of taudry
banal blog lists calling me to qualoquantify the reso-resolutes
resounding in resilient quo quotients that bear a
breach bridgeborn badgebilled
barometrer bearing broad billboard
catanonic catashrospies creating caustic crill
coffinistic coffiures cantonizing
socio unsetteling leo linguistic lies in a somewhat
lovevoid livid liquiditoria regal
ransome based regalia resonnating
rawbone residual retinal real time
tombosoties transitioning with
toying transient trio tide tooth
crass cavity craino creep mandibulo master mildew
mold molelicular mamsypamsy sillopsuedo master of
ever me present I , me , mine, miestro
sitting back and looking at the world as a place to be
not to be, hope to be, wish to be, be to be, in the
proper primer of humino yesnomenclatureculture of that which is u
me us our belief shistem radical of our primal sociodiscontentselfevident
irrelevant meanfulness, to countercure our quick/quack quotient
umbrella upbringing to say do write feel text tank athink
all that is emo exit verpresent to keep the fecal faces free of
founding father status inquo man although time is time in place.
Mindfulness is a mute place ill unattended by sociocrap everlasting.
Treasure travel inviting innate needs netherly knodding to the primo postive
practitudes of acoustic anciliary annotated awareness, allowing all annuities
ancient archaic to willifully wind wind waveringly wish away intrinsic id-ideas.
It it is what u want it it to be, say, scroll, live, plural, self to self. Use it, lose it,
share it, beware it, conquer it, it. Know it it's criminal capitol is wary for before
u know it it, life it before it its u, and will its it and
ale all eek out the precious profit of its itdom idiocracy illusionary in its
illogical inness so as not to gravely gravitate ungracious griefs
upon your its it.
scary huh. Karma it, Big Daddy.
Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2013
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.
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
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
Copyright © Kristin Reynolds | Year Posted 2008
Words on the internet leave a permanent footprint… so watch your step!
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016
The friends, family, and foe encyclopedia
Facebook, Instagram, Twitter Social Media
Everything you do is a recorded data upload
Even when you think that you're in stealth mode
Post pictures and thoughts, what you like and what you don't
You tell the world this, tell em' that, what you will, what you won't
People start what they call all out Facebook Wars
Multiple verbal assaults aimed at someone, they must be bored
Oh don't get me wrong all of these sites have their uses
But people tend to take things too far and abuse it
I shut down all of my profiles so I'm now outta the loop
Except for the very best one right here on Poetry Soup!
Copyright © Brian Davey | Year Posted 2016
© Eugene Harvey
Copyright © Eugene Harvey | Year Posted 2013
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.
Copyright © A. Sanders | Year Posted 2008
An Offline Hello
Whatever happened to hello?
Meeting and shaking hands
That moment of sharing yourself
That was a big part of life
There were no strangers
Just friends you haven’t met
Conversation used as an ice breaker
Learning more about the person as you spoke
That was an eternity ago
Before the invent of smart phones
Constant contact with the internet
Naked pictures and Facebook pages
Embarrassing videos from when you were a teen
Slander and gossip posted in a moment of anger
A million pages of someone with the same name
Not all of it true
But it must be since it is on the web
One time go back to the old days
Meet face to face not screen to screen
Forget that you have the ability to text
Sit down and just talk
Get to know each other
Take time to learn their history and mysteries
For once don’t look them up on-line
The real person is so much better
They just want a simple hello
Copyright © R. e. taylor | Year Posted 2012
seperated by the sea
Copyright © Abe Lopez | Year Posted 2009
No T.V., no internet, what are we to do, just look at us!
I remember a time, it wasn’t such a fuss.
Where pleasure and creativity we could find
without such things to entertain humankind.
We could look around and we could see
All the jewels of life waiting to be.
A life so good, a sun so bright,
While sharing it all with family; what a delight!
We wake up in the morning with smiles all around,
For there certainly be a love one to be found.
We’d notice the cold floors tickle our toes,
Now it tablets and i-phones up everyone’s nose.
We stepped out the door to start a new day
Not with text messages but hugs and kisses leading the way.
Our generation was tight knit and grand,
We all worked together with one purpose at hand.
That our next generation would have better opportunity,
With ever so much, and always have plenty.
And for the life we had, we knew we were blessed,
So we store up the extra to help out the rest.
We welcomed the strangers that came by our way,
We offered a meal and invited them to stay.
Today, if the door bell rings, we jump up in fret
If not forewarned by a previous text.
A variety of friends, we’ve made through the years,
Not by facebook request, but by having listening ears.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the new technology of this time,
But replacing one for the other is but a crime.
No T.V., no internet, now six days has past,
And from it a poem is written, and that is that, at last.
For today we got reconnected,
But remembering that at time it’s better to stay disconnected.
Copyright © Christine Bertrand | Year Posted 2017
Twisted mister missed a tone
known to show a coloring poem
Tongue tied & bright eYes wide
Founded now the Seven inside
...and they smiled.
Spin a song come come along
Petascale and Ping a pong U&I
ding a dong and king a kong.a
beta scale still a while aWay.eh?
SO so blue said the Watering shoe
True true true said the skylark too
and the b.in.B.ees are funny! Along
the Road came the Runners bunny
...hey honey! You left your BlueGenes
on. The greenBeans too. Dear.Q.
Sun.On.Constellation systems fun!
Come.On.Hon. let your senses vent
the lens it sends us on our way!
OPhi.ades! Know.Pleiades is just
too slow. Grow a big toe & use all
the digits.dig.it.??? T.flops but
ohOZ.One.Is SO much more fun!
... said the can.Did.Smile.On.
~Know. I'm just Me. No Sly on hear.
Copyright © Izzy Gumbo | Year Posted 2009
Don't go messin'
With my buddy Jack
He's cool people,
And I like him,
He writes well,
Yeah, this from Tom Bell,
You take him on,
You take on me,
Let me tell you,
Cut the crap and show
Or you might get
A poetic broken a__
Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2008
to you,I send
and good friend-
be with you
in this handshake
brings honour to
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2010
I can no longer hold my tongue
I’ve got my knockers and my mockers
Oh, and I can’t forget the blockers
So you badmouth me on FB behind my back
Let rip with your vitriol and go on the attack
With your false humility and humble claims
You are chock full of bull crap, playing games
I’m telling you this
Stop taking the piss
Here is my butt. I'd be remiss
if I didn't offer it for you to kiss
Go ahead skunk; make my day
release your stinking spray!
Oh, there's just one thing I have to say...
I don’t do 'two-faced book' anyway!
Judgmental people and haters contest
sponsored by Brenda Chiri
A note to whoever is being so nasty to Robert … you must be jealous of his talent for writing poetry and you should be ashamed of your behaviour!
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017