Snow came down hard
Harassing the roadside bar
Taking one more shot
Reminding himself, 'he was hot'
John proceeded to the lavatory
Without any worry
Mirror, he did reflect
No fear of the word 'reject'
Ventured into the night
Seeking a romantic sight
Reality stated hurtful fight
"Goodbye, my dear knight
Our relationship is dead,"
Wearing the pearls he bought, she said
Returning to the watering hole
Shivering and cold
Shocking we were told
Seductress commanded the stage
Half anyone's age
Protected inside a cage
Belting out a tune
Loving warmth came back soon
After being swooned
Patrons did say
Heating bill, owner electronically paid
When the tempting tease was done
She approached the admirer, looking for fun
As for the haunting past outside
Confirming someone had lied
And died
"Those pearls fit you right"
Stranger mentioned, eyes bright
"They are a little tight,"
Informed the songbird, preparing for a deathly fight
Confirming fan, a nut
She kicked them in the butt
Finding a cell
Lonely, I must tell
Tossing electronically-bottled messages
into the wild blue sea yonder
will they float like a boat or sink like a stone
it only makes me ponder
as optimistically-inclined
I often wonder why
some say, 'Send me an email,'
but then never reply
do my bottles circumnavigate the globe
or stay in the Sargasso for ever and a day
are they wrecked on the rocks of spam
while typing I waste my days and nights away
I watch the harbor through the falling snow
the sky and sea form one vast, gray tableau
the sun is nothing but a weak, background glow
the scene draws me, as if hypnotically.
Five mile’s lighthouse warnings go unvoiced
its strobes not lashing out, so what’s its point
it stands majestically but disappoints
replaced electronically
A tiny lobster boat makes its landward way
towards the inlet from the wider channel bay
a powdery blizzard is underway
which melts into the mirror sea.
Ospreys still hunt round the lobsterman's pride
snowflakes stain them as they soar and glide
other seabirds huddle side by side
shivering and crowing lividly.
Through the narrows the lonely boat steams
past icy Luddington Rock and East Breakwater's breech
its berths and moorings, within minutes reach
and sadly, it’s time for me to leave.
.
.
Songs for this:
Far Far Away (Charles Tone Mix) [feat. Brenda Boykin] by Tape Five
Hypnosis Theme (feat. Marina Quaisse) by Wax Tailor
oh, the irony...
glued
to electronic devices
designed to foster
connectedness,
yet the yawning gulf
between relationships
w i d e n
as a result.
with technology overuse,
far too many become
increasingly isolated.
with lips pressed
against cell phones,
fingertips
tap-dancing
on keyboards
as minutes
elongate to hours;
we grow oblivious
to the world around us:
ringing phones,
ticking clocks,
chirping birds,
loved ones
calling out to us
go unheard;
undivided attention
denied
to acquaintances,
friends,
even family members...
is it any wonder
we misspend time
electronically plugged in?
what has happened
to face-to-face communication?
what a world of difference
it makes
temporarily disconnecting
to r e e s t a b l i s h
the human connection.
Bouncing Ball
One of
my bouncing balls can
electronically amplify with
his ears some
musical instruments.
As Christmas draws near something's different this year,
At the North Pole all's quiet as can be.
Saint Nick and all of the elves he employs
Are online filling kids' wish lists electronically.
His wife, Mrs. Claus, is delighted because
Her jolly old husband's finally working from home
And delivering those toys to good girls and boys
Via UPS, FedEx, and Amazon drones.
...and Merry Christmas and/or Happy Holidays to all the good girls and boys on PS...
Watch out,
the corners of our eyes are in danger
of being nakedly exposed.
Evening dropped out of the sky
a lot quicker today.
A slap-dashing gush of last minutes,
as shoppers charged around each other.
The season demands good cheer and
a tightly wrapped hysertia.
The shop lights pull us in,
but out here where the cars
are edging in and out,
rear mirrors
and on-board computers
are our only life rafts.
We dodge the rushing shadows,
still wincing from the too happy laughter,
backing away ever so carefully
and as hurriedly as we dare,
into the electronically
flickering night.
The history of fiat
Is chock full of breaches
Of centralized power
That pushes and reaches
Debasing our money
The looters and leeches
Gaslighting people
With Keynesian speeches
Where is our money
In fractional banks?
They lend out in bubbles
And give us no thanks
Restricting our freedoms
With raw overreaches
Yes, the history of fiat
Is brimming with breaches
But now we have freedom
From theft and abuse
A better money in Bitcoin
And the power to choose
The central bank must be trusted not to debase the currency, but the history of fiat currencies is full of breaches of that trust. Banks must be trusted to hold our money and transfer it electronically, but they lend it out in waves of credit bubbles with barely a fraction in reserve.
Satoshi Nakamoto
As information is sourced, we knowledge add.
Entertainment is accessed by each ipad.
The cost of research is by the net reduced,
whilst addiction to **** is by it induced.
Banking transactions are by it made easy,
so does the convenience of a shopping spree.
We conveniently send mails by speed of light,
and connect to old buddies beyond our sight.
Its flash of lightening promotes the breaking news,
so does its ill wind the fake ones for our views.
It mocks distance with commercial activities,
and lures perverts to their sexual proclivities.
It does our world flatten with mobile services,
its not by distance hindered for con men's vices,
neither will it the distant swindled protect.
It does the deeds of distant bullies perfect.
Transnational love has by it been produced,
when love birds electronically are introduced.
Global link that binds us all like a cobweb;
Old and young alike, each enslaved by the web.
April was the koolest month
we walked in the green uprising,
to gather berries,
would eat them as we trekked
the crunching woods.
It was1999 and the sky was clear
for months after;
we had time to can the berries
and preserve them.
Thus when the TV conjectured
the possibility of a global plague
all the channels began to
reprogram themselves;
to electronically dream-up
the year 2020 into our reality.
We had to look away from the screen,
had to ponder our relationship
if perhaps one day
one of us ever went missing.
In a recycling pantomime of motion,
we watched the untimely dying
being pushed on gurneys
out into the deserted streets.
Later we trashed all the uneaten berries
scrubbing our hands
as if they would be forever stained.
Very creative in multiple ways,are all we!
Always new verses,neath our poetry tree.
Love, loss and limericks.
We are a poetic nation of diversity.
Joining hands, each day,electronically .
Talented, no question,beyond measure.
Each of us,another’s treasure!
Love and thank you all!
Enjoy the cake!
~Panagiota~
2/14/2023
A heart is a muscle
Beating stops and starts
Flexing its dreams flowing
It seems electronically
Emotionally counterparts
Lovingly captured intertwined
Spiritually physically twix
Unraveled and unwind
Hearts flow comes and goes
The beating it's thirst soars
In sickness and in health
Sad and sadness
Happy gladness
The beating starts at birth
Traveling from heaven's girth
From the spiritual birth canal
Universal thumping spiritual channel
Squeeze squeeze squeeze the vessel
Release release release the question
Breathe the breath in me causing me to be
A fist size piece of flesh
Formed and fashion and made by God hand
Beatings starts and stops
Enhanced by the breathing the breath of God
Flowing is His love through the physical blood
Spiritually connected if we just believe it
A bit of flesh inside our chest
Beating starts and stops
A Heart as a muscle
Pumps the blood and love through our veins
Beating on this side of life physically and spiritually in Jesus name
1/30/22
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr ©2022
In those early days we bought a used TV set.
A gypsy fortune-teller
had predicted many televisions
in our life together.
Thus when the TV conjectured
the possibility of a global plague,
it commenced to reprogram itself into our future,
to electronically dream-up the year 2023.
We had to look away from the screen,
documentary shows were showing too much;
we were forced to ponder our relationship -
to consider being locked into just one channel.
Then tomorrow slowly somnambulated
out into the blighted, deserted streets.
Somewhere within an old fuzzy screen
you were already disappearing.
Everything you watch on your computer or TV,
everyone you communicate with electronically,
every movement you make, to or at any locality,
are all being monitored, recorded and archived by the powers that be,
all in the name of national and international security,
but that is not the true reality,
regarding this blatant violation of our personal privacy.
With all of this personal information Anybody,
can be set up to appear as someone they would never be.
This power is in the hands of a few, not the many,
and power always corrupts inevitably,
but absolute power always corrupts absolutely,
at least that is what history has always taught me.
We watched the television fall asleep
through window eyes.
It was only 1999
but even that early
2020 began to
unwind its springs one Spring at a time.
April was the koolest month
we loved to walk in the uprising,
to gather berries
eat them as our hips jig jagged together
through the crunching woods.
You swallowed the foundling fruit
one at a time
while I filled my mouth like a chipmunk.
It was in these early days
that we bought the used TV set.
A gypsy fortune-teller
had predicted many televisions
in our life together.
Thus when the TV conjectured
the possibility of a global plague
it commenced to reprogram itself;
to electronically dream-up
the year 2020 into our reality.
We had to look away from the screen,
we had to put down the blackberries
we had been eating,
and now had to ponder our relationship -
if one day it ever went missing.
Then in slow-eyed motion,
we watched tomorrow somnambulate
its way
out onto the deserted streets.
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