Best Lcd Poems
These 4 walls
She stares with those big brown eyes
glazing over from the images
of a square fantasy world
Mentally masturbating the oozing
daydream droplets which swim
upstream along radio waves
This is her escape from a reality hidden
behind locked doors of depravity where
hushed family secrets is her gravity
From his nightly hands crawling over pastel
speckled bed sheets with no restraint creeping
into her bedroom as she cries so faint
While Momma sails adrift on that sinking ship
Methamphetamine, she becomes this pedophile’s
little slave sex fiend
Perhaps calgon can take her away to from these
Stained four walls closing in on this ill fated girl,
trapped inside her own American Idol swirl
Her different strokes are the beats of her feet that pass
by prostitute row towards school parks is the only yellow
brick road of Oz that she knows
So she prays to this electric god to spin her
into a wonder woman who flies thru cloudless skies
in an invisible jet to hide her in disguise
Because here in this space she has no tears for fears
or shouts with whispered pouts because here in this space
she plays in a little house on the prairie guarded by a digital fairy
But Alice is lost in this mirror less wonderland with no salvation
and hiding behind plastic LCD screens with pixels bouncing
To reality shows illumination decantation
For Arian
Categories:
lcd, childhoodspace,
Form:
Sailing along on edge
Convenience, forgotfulness
Wayward beliefs once simple
A world supposedly, not flat
Then, tell me...
Why are we falling
Bruised eyes, off peering
Life, living lies
In this thing called internet
Where is hope
Stretched out
In a few ample strokes
What are these answers
Like, Unlike
Are they not, or people
Our future screaming
But I can't hear it
What is it saying
Emotionless, eager, finger button beggar
Through every window out
Leering in petrified desire
For a moment just look away...
At a stack of books
In the corner decorate
Almost higher
Than a
Inch fifty LCD or Plasma
From this...
Are angry shadow ghosts
Childeren fading
Become plastic models
Lose or, die
But hey, It's not you, so it's okay
And anyway, it's in the public
Forum "Right?"
You know “Youtube”
Facebook, Twitter minutes to fame
Let's just roll ourselves upward
Into a corpse of glamour
Turn up the music
Ever louder
Drown out the evil voices
Dancing naked risque
Sailing off this edge is floating
Within the numb
Bombarded to swallow it all
Red or blue rainbows upon our tongues
A bitter world of pill
Worshiping the drug
Or be bulimic
Pretend to have faith
Purge at end of day
Whisper “I'm sorry” forgiveness
Pray, while continue falling
Dream comforts night
Then, begin a morning
Off alarms
On Pods,Pads and back
To artificial light
One last question
Do you think from where Steve Jobs is at
That he truly cares...
About the newest Apple app
Or does he laugh
Knowing only we can create
The world which surrounds us
Be it round or be it flat
And still it keeps spinning
Categories:
lcd, life, philosophy, social, world,
Form:
Free verse
The health bill crawls to a finish
thanks to that turncoat, Kucinich,
selling that socialist streak
that renders everyone weak
like Popeye without his spinach.
Categories:
lcd, political, satire
Form:
Limerick
This chair has chipped paint.
Its shadow gangly
in the light spilling through
the window. A deep
buttercup bisque steeps.
Through this stream, ember
motility of curdled
cream seeps into pores.
The seat embraces. Blood
colors sugar soft.
Fragments of dust waver
around the chair. Like
the suspended stars, or
the pixel points on
an LCD screen. Crumbs.
Feathers stick to the cheeks,
to be brushed off,
puff into the heavens.
Egg -white tinctured coat
wilts within the humid
air. Like the jaundiced
skin you wished to shed
when you first sundered
the sheets this morning.
This chair rocked my great
grandmother and her
children, and mother. Creaks
like an anchored boat.
Exposed grey brown wood
perishes, stabs the skin.
Like the chilled sea tinted
eyes: an ingress tears
the hushed air- a summons:
her son. Long ago
an apollyon. Starless.
The chair will be kindle
in September, sand-
peach colors imbued,
flushed like the candied
burn of Fall. Her flames.
Relive the fire
in the sky; salt waters
plum green, oily.
tauten red orange arms.
War in the distance-
better. The rose portrait,
diabolus shades stain
a cimmeran- tinted
loss, wound. Chalk inhaled.
And the blaze of two black
holes colliding. Wraiths.
The winter of her life,
within which a lurid
spirit-thin webbed cross
bleeds ash. Freezes; clots.
Categories:
lcd, day, fire, grandmother, light,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Look to the right
Look to the left
Look down in front
Take my first step
Eyes on the clock
Then up the block
Something ain't right
It's six o'clock
Bus isn't here
Isn't this great!
Want that promotion
Being late will raise the stakes
Finally here
Guess I'm sittin in the rear
Out the window
So dark outside
Makes it challenging to remember pride
Through traffic lights
Lots and lots of ring tones
Lit up LCD Screens
This is something
I could've lived without seeing
120 min
Seems sooo long
Wish I could nap
So hard to relax
I'll sit back,
Throw on my MP3
Cant let this long journey get a hold of me
Arrive to work
Yep, I spilled coffee on my shirt
Too late to fix
Now it's the color of bricks
Oh well.
Seems to be a colorful day
Don't think everything will go my way
Categories:
lcd, growing up, humorous, work,
Form:
Rhyme
Our first TV, a Mullard, maybe Murphy, black and white
five minutes for it to warm up, and it smelt of Bakelite,
the back was made of hardboard punched with rows of tiny slots
which cast a reddish glow when all the valves were getting hot.
The space left at the back was there, since I was five years old
to squeeze behind and then adjust the horizontal hold.
The vertical one was a pain as Mum sat with a frown
as I twiddled the knob and watched her head move up and down.
The reward for all my efforts when I got the jumping stopped
was fifteen minutes watching 'Bill and Ben' or 'Woodentops'.
Today it's auto tuning, LCD and big flat screen
with symbols on the bottom edge, still don't know what they mean.
No local man to fix it should the thing pack up and die,
it's Mishti on the phone from a call centre in Mumbai.
The reason there's no picture and the sound quality's poor?
The thing's so light, the Cat has gone and knocked it on the floor.
Categories:
lcd, technology,
Form:
Rhyme
MONITOR'S PREMONITION
Your heart is the size
Of your fist
Is it a hearsay?
A tell tale
A belief-
He is booked
Tentacles arrested him
With vacuum locks.
Lying pale in blue open coat
Chest, right and left
Ankles, wrists and abdomen.
Lines on screen dances
With eerie steps
Primitive dance of aborigines.
Is he sleeping
A dreamless sleep,
Lustreless, but final
Dripping capsules locked.
Succession of births
Immanent sense of sin
Of births previous
Last step to transmigration
A drop of blood
Libation and flood.
Graphic lines weary
Ending up
Straight line to infinity.
A muffled cough
Chocked
Bladders pumping, shocks
A tornado, frightened silence
Hush-hush-
Tentacles withdrawn,
Mummified in sleeping bag
Alarms, sirens
Traveller to Zion
A long ride, the last.
With icy hands laid
On prey
LCD is switched off.
Categories:
lcd, death,
Form:
Epitaph
we share a love, you and I;
uploaded amongst the wireless bandwidths, bits and bytes, enmeshed and encrypted.
a love transcending beyond the mesh of space and time;
a love that’s spread on the pane of an lcd screen.
with every keystroke, our passion we spell;
coded texts morph into fiery love making while i trace your avatar with my mouse
and i fiercely kiss the air as i view your web cam view
while you my love, you fondle your bosom in sheer ecstasy.
and a collective sigh we shared, as we reach our pseudo ******;
the router lost its connection; and we, my love, are no longer entwined.
in the disconnected void i wonder- truly, we are but strangers – on when we will first meet.
if we do my dear, will we share this love in REALITY?
Categories:
lcd, computer, irony, love, lust,
Form:
Free verse
Part of the denominator,
extraordinary matters level off
and find the lowest trough.
The so-called experts
joust with the pretenders,
and they are wrestling still.
In days of yore the Seer
would proclaim the truth,
accepted by the old, the youth,
whereas for now we do His will.
Are we shackled, are we freer,
hungrily our mouths to fill?
Time will not stand for surety,
the prophet's exhortations gone to dust,
while totems crumble, metals turn to rust,
we try to compromise, a bitter pill
for those who crave acerbity
and swear our bliss to spill.
Were we to strike good earth,
avoid all roiling undulation,
seek and hold a firm foundation,
and ascend the highest hill,
then would excellence be realized for what it's worth,
and our hopes and dreams we would fulfill.
Categories:
lcd, writing,
Form:
Verse
World of colours twinkling like stars,
I really wonder, how mesmerising could be Bazaar.
When one is low,
When one is free,
When one wants to have some fun,
Going to bazaar would be awesome.
Wow! See that shop.
Don’t you feel, we should stop!
Tinkling chimes,
Hanging in line.
I want to stop here for a while.
Those sequinned cushions,
All in white.
Could there be something, even more bright!
See that hoard of antique next to the boutique,
From fairy land to queen land, what a transit!
Look at the horde out there!
LCD on the wall and cricket in the air.
Oh ho! That’s a restaurant!
People are being served on the chair.
That’s indeed a tricky affair.
Let me also take a break,
And grab my cake.
Hey! You don’t wait!
Walk around! This place is great.
22/2/19
Categories:
lcd, appreciation, beautiful, cheer up,
Form:
Free verse
Part of the denominator,
extraordinary matters level off
and find the lowest trough.
So-called excellence will
joust with tomfoolery,
and they are wrestling still.
In days of yore the seer
would declaim the truth,
accepted by the old, the youth,
whereas for now the spirits mill,
are we shackled, are we freer,
hungry now our mouths to fill?
Time will not stand for surety,
the prophet's exclamation gone to dust,
while totems crumble, metals turn to rust,
we try to compromise, a bitter pill
for those who crave acerbity
and swear our bliss to spill.
Were we to strike good earth,
avoid all roiling undulation,
seek and hold a firm foundation,
and ascend the highest hill,
then would excellence be realized for all its worth,
and our hopes and dreams we would fulfill.
Categories:
lcd, psychological,
Form:
Verse
Zombies
By LDB
The day my heart fell was the day I met you
Crashing, like the peaking waves in the LCD were true
But I was dead when I met you and first held your hand
Alcohol and addiction fresh in my system; its there you understand
Zombie eyes reflecting at me between the cracks of my bathroom mirror
The scars are prominant and the smile lines are getting clearer
Im getting dizzy in the coldness of your vacant hurricane madness
Your storm made me a captive of my self-loathing sadness
You’re a fading signal between the crashing waves of unrequited lotalty
Freezing here, in the eternal summer emptiness filled only by memories
You left me with bad dreams, open wounds, and insecurities
But I’m so thankful that you’re gone; i’m proud of myself for staying strong
I’m an addict in every single possible way, and the closing walls are bleeding in my cage
I brave a smile as the scars deepen and the smile lines display my premature age
Sometimes I wish I could disapear into those waves of darkness all over again
But as you fade into stories and distant memories, I’ve found a brighter face where love begins
Categories:
lcd, abuse, loss, love,
Form:
Lyric
Poems After More News Observations
Jumping to conclusions about justice obstruction
May cause production of a mathematical deduction;
Reached an end,
And this did send;
Start over from beginning with a new construction.
What is Trump's lowest common denominator
LCD anyway. Not only has he been common
but also has a low opinion of everything including
himself.
Jim Horn
Must start from beginning with a new construction.
Categories:
lcd, allegory, analogy,
Form:
Limerick
This chair has chipped paint.
Its shadow gangly
in the light spilling through
the window. A deep
buttercup bisque steeps.
Through this stream, ember
motility of curdled
cream seeps into pores.
The seat embraces. Blood
colors sugar soft.
Fragments of dust waver
around the chair. Like
the suspended stars, or
the pixel points on
an LCD screen. Crumbs.
Feathers stick to the cheeks,
to be brushed off,
puff into the heavens.
Egg -white tinctured coat
wilts within the humid
air. Like the spectral
skin you wished to shed
when you first sundered
the sheets this morning.
This chair rocked my great
grandmother and her
children, and mother. Creaks
like an anchored boat.
Exposed grey brown wood
perishes, stabs the skin.
Like the chilled sea tinted
eyes: an ingress tears
the hushed air- a summons:
her son. Long ago
an apollyon. Starless.
The chair will be kindle
in September, sand-
peach colors imbued,
flushed like the candied
burn of Fall. Her flames.
Relive the fire
in the sky; salt waters
plum green, oily.
tauten red orange arms.
War in the distance-
better. The rose portrait,
diabolus shades stain
a cimmeran- tinted
loss, wound. Chalk inhaled.
And the blaze of two black
holes colliding. Wraiths.
The winter of her life,
within which a lurid
spirit-thin webbed cross
bleeds ash. Freezes; clots.
Categories:
lcd, allusion, angst, august, autumn,
Form:
Blank verse
I woke up today or was it yesterday
I dress to leave like I did on Tuesday or was it Wednesday
I drive the mile to work or did I, I can't remember as I do it everyday
The lcd screen stares back it me for the next 8 hours
Life is like breathing but it hurts with the never ending fulitity
Your just part of the machine, invisible
Your hopes your dreams, just jokes to make god laugh
Your kids the next call centre fodder, or fries with that burger sir
Your an ant one in a trillion, your problem is you know it now
Categories:
lcd, work,
Form:
Free verse