Times have changed at such a fast rate
With technology I don’t understand
I feel like an alien in my own world
Im so completely out of date!
Oh, for the simple days of little frustration
When the t.v had four channels and it was free
You had to physically turn the t.v knob
Disputing who’s turn it was to get up and change the station
When the family phone was attached to a wall
For the whole family to use
It was big ,clunky with a rotary dial
And all it could do was call
When a camera was used to take photos
That had a film roll inside
To take to the chemist to get developed
In either “matt or gloss” to pick up in a week or so
When correspondence was hand written or typed
Enclosed in an envelope with stamp then mailed
Music was played on a record player or radio
Dishes were hand washed and wiped
Now it’s all computerised
With passwords and codes
Beeping, flashing and telling you NO
Kept in clouds in the sky!!
I know technology and progress are a need
And one has to move with the times
There are so many positives and benefits
But I miss those uncomplicated , simple days indeed!
Categories:
computerised, change, confusion, technology,
Form: Rhyme
Alien implications of a turboprop turnip turning is usefully attuned to mystical presences. Mind stretching images of computerised garbage on an umbrella of slime. Outnumbered then are juices in helmets. Rotting putrid raw stench. Run forward and scream"the boots are green" to the tantalisingly tasty buttercup fountain.but an ooh ooh could never wear a tutu for it might catch on a tree or get stained in fig juice. Simultaneously placing a sunlight then. Wow. Would a swordsmanship display in a flower bed. Never predict the movements of a toasted mushroom sandwich in a bucket of limes.and Aldous Huxley is a tortoise who resides in a castle. How pleasant for him. But one mustn't be perturbed or perplexed by lifestyles of eckoos. Now haha ok. Xxxx juxtaposition jig. Xxxxx juxtaposition wig. Xxxx immortalisation.z
Categories:
computerised, beauty, blessing,
Form: I do not know?
In illuminated tubes,
in hospital beige,
this whirring, clicking, living grave.
It clunks and junks,
it beeps and meeps,
and it peeps.
And in they peep,
all the secrets that you keep,
on a screen behind a screen.
You can't see them,
but you are seen,
every
nanofibrous
imperfection.
They see through thoughts
and all the juices.
They see your tauts
and all your looses.
Where blood escapes,
and where it oozes,
or
where
it
does
not,
and more importantly, where does it clot?!
Then a two week wait to see wot you got!
Categories:
computerised, health,
Form: Free verse
put down that bloody joystick!
take time out to see
stop acting a twit!
take a look at me
to see you "shouting" at a machine
so bloody idiotic!
it's one thing to be over keen
another to be psychotic
please behave dear,act your age
stop making such a racket
getting to that stage!
for the man in the white jacket
your a computerised obsession
i'll fit buttons for nipples
do i beep,bop for expression
watch your brain in ripples
don't get me wrong,i won't get in your way
i love you more than ever!
but theres no reason for me to stay
i hope you'll be happy together.
Categories:
computerised, allegory, computer-internet, devotion, me,
Form: I do not know?