Best Microchip Poems
Well guys I’m going to tell you a secret
You don’t really know me
I have not been honest
I am not who I say I am
Yesterday I discovered the real me…
I’m a ninja – yes honestly I’m a ninja
I have proof from www.anagrammer.com
Ninja Salol …………………….…..Jan Allison
So I thought I’d have fun with a few names here
Hope no one is offended.. but they are quite amusing!
Casual Pull …………………...... …… Paul Callus
Diarrhetic Ande ….…………….Andrea Dietrich
Archaean Cans …………… …….Casarah Nance
Ard Man ………………………….......……. Armand
Hmm is Tit ……………………....…….Tim Smith
Savour Hart ……………………...…. Arthur Vaso
ill can Jokes ……………………....….Jack Ellison
Hencoop **** ………….….….…..Shane Cooper
Horny Rash Ram ……….………Harry Horsman
Lycra Nim ………………….…......……. Lyric Man
Go Mercurial Ire …………….….Maurice Rigoler
Peer over………………………......….….Eve Roper
Ramshackle Cure……………. Earl Schumacker
Salutes Sir…………………………....….Lei Strauss
Mercy Tis So ………….……....………Mystic Rose
Can Hear Microchip………Charmaine Chircop
Upgrade Gent…………………….….Peter Duggan
Warrants Done……………..….. Darren Watson
Sit Leprechaun................... Paul Schneiter
9th February 2015
A rag of a paper from a lifetime that's gone,
Replaced by a small microchip.
The feel of those words in the palm of your hands,
That the ends of your fingers would grip.
And the hands of a surgeon juggling his craft,
Or the journalist reporting the news.
All replaced with perfect mechanical arms,
On an internet with millions of views.
Already we yearn for the art of the human,
Who'd do the best that he could with few fails.
Spinning their yarn with small human insights,
And yet covering all important details.
And the car indicator you pushed to turn off,
Or the window you wound to pull down.
We miss the old life of being involved,
When computers didn't run the whole town.
Technology is changing day by day,
the benefits? enormous, one might say,
is miniaturization a price too high to pay?
not necessarily the smart and prudent way.
Gemstones aren't what they're purported to be,
take that cuff link, a microprocessor,
what used to take acres and acres of space
now resides on the top of his dresser.
Tie clips and navel rings, earrings with studs
contain microchips too small to see,
snapshots are routed to secret computers,
surveillance directed at you and at me.
As fate would have it, I have diminished,
a 6 footer, now 2ft 4inches,
soon I'll be able to date a REAL bird
and cavort with the crows and the finches.
It must be my penance, I spoke out of turn
and maligned the creator, the hedonist,
who pleasures the masses with tablets and iPods,
and removed me from his Merry Christmas list.
Small is as small does so I gravitate,
and follow these micro-bit players,
I am so tiny, can't hardly be seen,
as black widows become midget-slayers.
Consigned to my basement I look for a way
to escape my arachnoid aggressors,
I squeeze through a slit in the mesh at my window
and plead, as with all good confessors.
Out in my garden I stare at the stars,
just a speck in the depths of the universe,
I fall to my knees to be nothing at all,
prey to microchip madness, a terrible curse
or our endless salvation?
Dr. Evil,
pacing back and forth in his laboratory,
had a vexing problem he was trying to solve
How to get the masses
to let corporate government
have complete control of their lives
Then came a thought from the dark side
Give them free access to all
Let their greedy little minds
be able to lust after all they see
Give them internet with content unfettered
Keep them chained to the screen,
to thwart their ability to not comply
Condition them to believe mind-control is better
No more free thought or free will divine
Herd them into sites
that will allow them to gorge with delight
on all of their most lewd and animalistic desires
Buy this, sell that
Indulge in banal, weird chit-chat
Every perversion of the mind is now hardwired
Let their imaginations run free
Then offer them a microchip
for a small fee and a snip
Oh they gladly will do all that you say
if you promise not to take away,
take away their virtual stimuli fix
Resistance purged, resistance nixed
Once they willingly go under the laser knife,
those poor bastards then will be marked for life
Once their freewill is willingly sacrificed,
yes, those lost souls will then be marked for life
Undoubtedly a microchip
Or something else
Implanted in the right hand
Or in the forehead,
And this is the mark
Of the beast
His name and number
The number of a man
Six hundred and sixty six,
Deceiving the multitude
Controlling their thoughts
Actions and deeds
Permitting them to buy
And sell,
Leading them blindly
Into the eternal fires of hell.
W.A CHOLT. Copyright Fergal O Reilly. 2018. Inspired by Revelation 13:15-18. KJV.
Revelation 14:9-13 Revelation 15:2. Revelation 16:2. Revelation 19:20.Revelation 20:4.
Modern day Empire
The same as old,
Man doesn't really have time
Just Inventions and different clothes.
Still craving our nature the two split purpose,
Consumption and reproduction
All else is conjuring vanity,
An evolving Microchip of lost perception, a tinted clarity.
Yet we entrapped ourselves into a diamond cast,
Being compounded by every grasp that meets ear, eye and touch.
Never forget the truth bearing lust,
that feeling of inner-ness that splinter-hair precision awareness
And ask the question you've subconsciously locked away
Why are you being and what are the aims?
And then at that moment your shell will fall apart
so remind yourself of the real truth the binds mind and heart,
and roam among your ancestors in the lyceum of endless fascination
in one's mighty reflection and complacence.
Tattarrattat
…amazing how things change over time, from a simple knock at someone’s door, smoke signals, walking & serenading to the Pony Express, and now Cell Phones…what next, microchip implants?
Tattarrattat of sounds making universal calling to chitchat
Habitat denned of words hovering upon stagnate doormat
Dialling friends like Anna and Christine while vanity filing
Smiling Hannah throughout texts and hashtags reconciling
Taking selfies selfish as snapping shots peep after faking
Breaking stats texting thru speeding with fingers aching
Money making Facebook and Twitter toot sucking honey
Funny folks frolicking in wow of gibberish words chummy
Implanting microchiping radar loves of illusions enchanting
Ranting and deleveled amidst abysses of misunderstanding
Evaporating thoughts deified through fanatic futurists dating
Frustrating still mom and dad tired of escaping callwaiting.
...this may also be read backwards
1.Tattarrattat – the longest palindrome in the Oxford English Dictionary, coined by James Joyce in Ulysses for a knock on the door
2.denned – past tense of to den, meaning to live in a den
3.deleveled – past tense and past participle of "delevel", to demote or be demoted to a lower level.
4.deified – past tense of "to deify", meaning to consider as a god
...originally I was going to enter this in Joseph May's Palindrome contest...but at the last second, I noticed the theme was about the Seasons...dah!...hello Brian lol
A Palindrome is a word or phrase which reads the same backwards as forwards, such as level, or deed, or "never odd or even".
Sept.24.2018
END SEPTEMBER 2018 STANDARD
,ANY FORM,ANY THEME
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
N/A for contest
Inside my head
Is a world of wisdom
Words that I need to share with others
To prevent them from making the same mistakes I did
Decisions affecting their future
But do they listen?
Of course not, neither did we!
Nothing changes a teenagers reason
Inside my head
Is a maze of wires
Linking one memory to another
Recollections of the past
Contemplating the future
Remembering the lost
Welcoming the new
All stored in a microchip within my brain
Inside my head
Are emotions running riot
Heart- rending pain from past love
Waves of agony force salty tears to fall
If I had one wish it would be to forget
The rejection too much
Humiliation and embarrassment
All spinning around
Grey matter turning black
Inside my head
A “to do” list a mile long
Never ending chores
Writing notes to remind
Events and duties to attend
The house to clean, kids to feed
And a husband
With prehistoric beliefs
Inside my head
There are poems and lines
Waiting patiently to be transformed with ink
Words flowing through the wires
But get stuck
Things get in the way
I wish for more time
Space to write my thoughts
Inside my head
I am a teenager once more
Free to do what I please
With no fear of consequence
To be a know it all
Innocence returned
A chance to relive
And listen to my elders
Inside my head
Is a world of wisdom
17 September 2015
Hear that sound coming from your
television set
Government warning: This is not a test!
There’s no music rocking
from your radio
Only the shrill alert of an emergency signal
indicating transmission shutdown
Better put on an aluminum tin foil hat
to block out the penetrating EM waves
Unauthorized dark-net instructions
rapidly rappelling
over your cranial firewall
Audio emissions
spiking an intrusive breach
Fertile mind-control conditions,
activate the patriotic sleeper sells
Keep the pocketbook within reach
You never thought to ask
how did you get that small scar
on the side of your neck
When you went to the doctor
for a regular checkup visit
Anesthesia clouds your memory,
microchip implantation
not put on your medical history
Audio emissions
now have put someone else
in control of you
Stay on script to the program,
that’s all you can do
Can no longer block
the high-tech matrix
noise pollution coming through
Audio emissions
have made a human robot out of you
Technology is changing day by day,
the benefits? enormous, one might say,
is miniaturization a price too high to pay?
not necessarily the smart and prudent way.
Gemstones aren't what they're purported to be,
take that cuff link, a microprocessor,
what used to take acres and acres of space
now resides on the top of his dresser.
Tie clips and navel rings, earrings with studs
contain microchips too small to see,
snapshots are routed to secret computers,
surveillance directed at you and at me.
As fate would have it, I have diminished,
a 6 footer, now 2ft 4inches,
soon I'll be able to date a REAL bird
and cavort with the crows and the finches.
It must be my penance, I spoke out of turn
and maligned the creator, the hedonist,
who pleasures the masses with tablets and iPods,
and removed me from his Merry Christmas list.
Small is as small does so I gravitate,
and follow these micro-bit players,
I am so tiny, I'm so hard to see
as black widows become midget-slayers.
Consigned to my basement I look for a way
to escape my arachnoid aggressors,
I squeeze through a slit in the mesh at my window
and plead, as with all good confessors.
Out in my garden I stare at the stars,
just a speck in the breadth of the universe,
I fall on my knees and I pray to the Lord,
could my destiny alter, and spin in reverse.
I sat by a moonlit window last night
As sleep did not come- elusive as the Dugong-
My eyes but portal gazing wide into a deep vast sea.
The songbirds were hushed except for the nightjars and owls.
A dreary blackness was unrolled across the sky,
And moonbeams brimmed over into the room.
My mind set adrift to gloom and droll dreams
In those wee hours of morn. I spoke to ancestors
(if only in my mind) for they lived in simpler and perhaps wiser times.
I thought how I envied them in a way,
Though not really, as their bones lie dusty in
Rustic vessels, traveling further back with each passing day.
Their lips sealed mum, as still as the stars, and cold as winter's teeth,
Yet resting above in glory cradles, numb to the tangles that
Plague this old and somber world.
I wondered what they would think of the present day,
Which oft embraces adverse and complex things,
That would perplex the keen-witted, scholars of yesteryear,
And make the grave of Einstein sway.
If those dear, timeworn relics traversed from
Chivalrous and austere ages into the rages of this world,
Where knowledge weaves through webs of microchip swirls.
And people sail into streams of mouse-clicking dreams...
Could you then, oh sweet vestiges of ancient yellow bones,
Slumber on in quiet, mellow solace beneath your
Inscripted bloodstones, and romance the
Advancement of present times?
Would you imagine these machines as
Sleek schooners slicing through the midnight blue,
Chartering primitive lands? Or rather dreadnaughts
Waiting to wager warfare against the inculpable innocence of
Youth, or the ignorance of man? Would you quiver and quake
at the malice of mankind and perhaps find a better road to take?
I wonder now, as I sit with the moon so bright, and listen to
the stillness quietly hushing this sultry, sleepless night.
>Space oddity or what?
Technology has advanced down here.
By down here, I mean, on planet Earth.
We are all living peacefully.
No poor people do I see.
Bet you wonder where I be?
‘Dragon, stop messing about.
Listen to me. I’m the boss.
If not I’ll tell you to, ‘go to sleep.’
Phew that worked! Now let me just peek.
Golly is that first verse, Dragon’s words.
Have you read anything so absurd?
At peace, no poor were can he be?
None of that on Earth, I see.
In fact, technology, if that’s the word.
Is exploring space, not my world?
With a spaceship that’s 2 cm high.
I wonder who is that size and can fly.
I guess one day real soon.
They’ll have a base on the moon.
Then send all the bad men there.
Of course they will need some breathable air.
Do they know there is no air there?
Best spend that spare money here instead.
Of wasting it on space I said.
Overpopulated Earth might be.
But terrorists keep population numbers down.
Might be why they are around.
As the more people they kill you know.
Mean less mouths to feed, it does just so.
Then there are bombs from the air.
And landmines on the Earth don’t care.
Who they kill one and all.
Perhaps I will be the next to fall.
But bless technology will rescue me.
By reducing me to the size of a flea.
I could then enter that 2 cm spaceship so.
Off this planet Earth I could then go.
Way up high into the sky.
Pass along into space.
Leave the universe we all know.
Into another one I don’t know.
Then after many years travelling up here.
Enter another atmosphere.
No doubt I will be back here.
In something like one million years.
And bless, I have gone back in time.
Back to Earth, I know it’s mine.
Large dinosaurs roam the land.
All looks peaceful, I’ve circled around.
No sign of humans can be found.
So I guess it’s safe to land.
‘Wake up Dragon,’ I have done.
Now you can have your fun.
Print correct on screen, what I have done.
Have a nice day everyone.
As the year is now 3001.
I guess now the world, has just again, begun.
Have fun.'
This poem was inspired by the invention of the minute microchip camera space ship man has invented to hopefully explore where man will never go. Perhaps!<
On last night's news I heard
of an engineer named K_____ who
invented the microchip and changed
our lives. How the chip now contains
a billion circuits which I still don't get
but what I do perceive is this engineer's
(a man modest in pride, fame and wealth)
achievement of Teilhard de Chardin's vision
of a world that is one organism and a single-
minded mankind.
Also mentioned
were Edison, the Wrights and Ford,
oddly not Einstein, Galileo, Copernicus, Newton,
Hamilton or Jefferson, Christ or Buddha,
or the unknown gatherers and traders
who invented agriculture, money.
8,000 generations and each individual
an experiment gone well or wrong, a chance
to respond with love or grief to the universe's effort
to extinguish us.
Family of weasels, young ones playful.
One reference says they're vicious murderers,
killing for sport. Absurd, I think, in the wild.
Another clarifies they eat ½ their body weight daily,
extremely active, high metabolism, hunt all their caloric needs
before eating. And, like the raccoon, ferocious defenders
of their young.
And what doth bring me
here to this spot
timely turns,
east west dyslexic learns
me to be ...
where is the space now?
Here before
a different time
out of place
out of mynd
and in tending to
my flock in kind
internally subjegating
unresulting rhyme
ballistical banter bereaved
its' decanter !!
"unearthing truth is only
interperative archaeology"
merely controlled science
in alliance to powers that
are to be believed in its
ruling theology....
And here in this spot I sit
a microchip
in the cog
an earmite
in a farm of hogs
a dustspeck, to be
boiled in emphatic blaspheme
a bar code
with no face
a Dunkin donut
with out the cream,
the parametics won't notice
nor the National Guard
not the Supreme Judicial tortoise
or the puppets playing cards,
but 5. O. is tight
& they'll sniff you outright,
'specially if you've violated
evidence for the Jury,
for 4 deflated desserts
are nothing but flirts
always withholding
the cherry...
EDDIE MARS AND THE SOLAR WINDS
The biggest band in Lisburn and fronted by Eddie Mars
A guy who could play anything, on his collection of guitars
On vocals, Charlie Venus, who was the joker in the pack
He played his fender tele' through a great big marshall stack
On bass was Johnny Neptune, with his yellow platform shoes
He harmonized on vocal, a disciple of the blues
The keyboards were delivered, by Hector Mothership
He worshipped things electrical, and loved the microchip
Ray Uranus kept the beat and he wore a bowler hat
Sure only a crazy drummer, would adopt a name like that
They played all over Britain, with their rockin lunar style
They sold out gigs in Wigan, they were lauded in Millisle
Their stage show was fantastic, with a massive lighting rig
A spaceship and some planets, lit the stage at every gig
That grew a loyal fan base, as they played across the land
They lived a life of excess, just like any touring band
Success soon followed in their wake, awards came thick and fast
And very soon the space machine, had an ever growing cast
Five young lads from Lisburn, fifty people in their crew
An entourage of strangers that they never even knew
Five big trucks, a fleet of cars, a chopper and two planes
A man to do the finance, who didn't even know their names,
Still, fashions change, the sales dried up, the audience died away
And soon there were no big crowds, to watch the five lads play
Their last gig at the Ulster hall, was an evening to forget
Out of tune, and full of beer, as they stumbled through the set
And things got pretty messy when accountants came to call
They had no cash, they had no rights, seems their manager had it all
Their luck ran out, the band where broke, they had to end the show
They had to sell up everything, the spaceship had to go
Ray could never come to terms, with all the hurt and pain
He took some drugs and alcohol, he just never woke again
Hector went to college and he earned a top degree
And now he is the I.T guy in a light bulb factory
Johnny is the local star, who likes to talk about his fame
He tries to pull the young girls, and dine out on his name
Charlie lost his family, when the alcohol took hold
He shelters in the hostels when the weather gets too cold
Eddie left the country, when it all became too much
He now lives in Australia, but he never kept in touch