Hi Fi Poems | Examples

The Developing World

The Developing World

Incredible scientific growth, real futuristic
Development is an unstoppable progress
Millions of achievements, human creativity

I had a tape recorder, in the eighties,
and vacuum tube and transistor television
But now? Microchips drive satellites in the sky

Forty years only, it is nothing in the time
My mobile phone is a micro hi-fi system,
a television, a post, a library, an office,
a studio, and a lot of high-tech things
I can’t list everything. I can’t imagine.
What will phones be like after a hundred years?

Defining Digital

Smart phone - we groan without this digital backbone 

Laptop - work from home nonstop

Wi-Fi - faster internet connectivity to live hi-fi

5G - advanced communication technology

GPS location - reach any destination

Artificial intelligence - computer brain takes precedence

Zoom - conduct a worldwide meeting from your room

Robot - human proxy hotshot

Virtual reality - simulated artificiality

Social media - connect with friends and share your idea




4th March 2022


For Simon Rogerson's "Let's explore digital technology" contest

Stereo Typical Gi

Stereo Typical G.I.
David J Walker

Admittedly
	I was way to easy 

The stereo typical G.I. 
The guy Willing to buy 

The cool green Lights in a 
Teakwood box connecting 

Overpriced 
Hi-Fi 

Speakers to a
Belt drive 

Turntable connecting to an
Open reel really cool tape deck 

But what the heck
It’s only one paycheck 

Every month to month for six months
Dead broke alone in a barracks 

Full of other fools 
With stereo’s and  

No place else to go 
Or money 

To buy new records

Diva

Dame Dogwood, butterfly-dressed
in white, flitters, fine hi-fi ~
Viewing such spring leitmotiv...
A hushed opera!

(4/18/21)

High Fidelity

in the fifties there was the
hi-fi sound
which meant
high fidelity
being very faithful to the original
not stereophonic but
monaural
one

stereo meant many sounds
from many directions
many lovers
in many cars and houses
and many changes in the
future

in the fifties
romance flourished in cars
families started in cars
the first home was a car
and there was 
high
fidelity

3/9/2020

'STRAND NO 710
Brian Strand, Sponsor

Who Knew

who knew eye knew ewe knew we knew
he-sue me-sue eye-sue ewe-sue

who-do do-doo voo-doo nude-oo
see-me be-me knee-me cream-y  

wi-fi hi-fi sci-fi fi-fie cream-pie
knee-hi ne-hi we-hi...oh-my!

Announcement

Announcement

	"State the fact," he tells the board, "announce mid-
	morning without warning, too late then to
	retaliate. Say, 'Times change, so on your
	way, redundancy accompanies age.'"

	Walks easy through his fortress-grounds of trip-
	alarms and snarling hounds. Youthful bride is
	safely sealed from vengeful pawn and bitter
	foe, and waits, consoled by views of vale and
	river's-flow, gleaned through rail and safety-gates.

	Mower idle on the lawn; barrow still
	beside a wall; jobbing-boy holds toil in
	scorn. ''We'll propel the youth to manhood with
	a jolt. He'll learn the bitter-truth of how
	to cope without a job or hope, collect
	his due, then face his fate as men must do.''

	Holding high the diamond-ring, gift for the
	girl with everything – to rent her love and
	smile awhile – into the room where hi-fi
	croons her favourite tune then, "Christ!" Mind won't
	focus with the eyes; wife on table, lips
	apart, hair a-splay, radiant as her
	wedding day. Boy... a man between her thighs.

The Emptiness of Your Absence

Oh, the emptiness you leave behind -
Love is a noon-bright meadow stripped of its green,
Whose birds forget their songs: Or am I tone deaf now?
The melodies in Mahler Symphonies are monotone,
Only rhythm there suggests that Love is palpable,
A pulsing heart whose syncopation loses beat
As torrents of spring rain that could augur hope
Blur now into a mindless buzz of cheap hi-fi.

But let saddest lament, not for one instant stay your heart,
Or my selfishness, be hindrance to your dance,
For all that I so admire (that was ever holy in your smile),
Can grow only in the soil of your imagination.
Rather let me be another sun that rises, falls,
As Earth's bright star takes joy in serving,
Energize the breath of greenest leaves
And nourish blooms expressing your desire.


Long Tooth
February 5, 2017

Untitled

UNTITLED

A jug of wine
Pack of smokes
And Hector Berlioz on the hi-fi

Oh the vibrations
Broken rhythms
The now in perfect oblivion

Imagination in isolation
Smoke thick enough
To cloud the eyes      to choke

Sips of wine revive
And elicit after a spell
Go to hell!

With this attitude
Words are thrown freely
Carelessly on the paper

Amazing the results
One wonders about the greats
How much stoned poetry?

Dave Austin

A Sour Harvest

there was a proud resident
who gave her neighbours
a torrid time because she
was well-connected and big

an apologist and a menace
she was a law unto herself 
none could tell her to reduce
the noise her hi-fi produced

from her children to her pets
--all did as they pleased –
her licentious dogs caused havoc 
even her chicks were untouchable 

when the empire of those who had been
fortifying and sugarcoating her nonsense  
imploded--she also crushed on her chest
all the sense of immunity just fizzled out

it was a bitter harvest as her own dogs ran riot
--did the unthinkable: biting her like a stranger
while her own children stood aloof as if gloating
the stunned neighbours watched the fracas from afar

Gootle Is An Orange Pumpkin

Gootle is an orange pumpkin
© RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY
29 th October, 2014


                           

                                                         , 
                                                      (((l)))
                          Gootle is an orange pumpkin all the buddies say
                           So he bows to all in joy and sits on his asstray
                           This makes his pie a real hi-fi in  joie de vivre

Whatta Bozo

When it comes to modern technology
The word “bozo” suits me to a “T”
I quiver and shake and tremble all over
When my computer asks questions of me!

Think to myself “If you're so damn smart
Why are you asking this old guy?
I'm back in the days of peck-peck-peck
On my typewriter listening to hi-fi!”

I'm at an age when the brain doesn't work
The way it did way back when
Wait a minute, I'm not sure this old brain
Was that brilliant even back then!

Some of us guys were born to be techies
I'm just happy being real simple
Totally content in my own little world
All the girls just love my dimples!

I may be a bozo but I'm a happy bozo
Not familiar with that techie talk
Made it this far without hurting my brain
Technology's a total crock!


© Jack Ellison 2013

Yoga

Yoga way of Life in ancient times
Got lost in modern materialistic times

Way of harmonising mind-body-spirit
Combination of breathing rhythm, postures, meditation, diet

Offers preventive, therapeutic, psychic cures 
Not just an exercise, divine path for merging with universe  

Age no bar, easy to practise any time
Simple mat, props, no need of hi-fi gym

Develops repulsive force towards flesh food for cellular quietness 
Drops non-veg diet, avoids system irritation thru vegetarian dishes

No other stream renders benefits physical, mental and spiritual 
Yoga, truly embodying Union of souls, Individual with Universal

Yoga, ancient healers gift to world, origin of India 
In modern polluted world, Yoga the only healthy idea  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By Hitendra Mehta
April 2011-04-22

For Members Contest – Yoga by Tahera Mannan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There Was a Time

~There Was a Time~

There was a time when I would look
out over the azure glory of a Michigan lake,
or tear up from the umber-brown beauty
of Grand Canyon in the Arizona sun.

There was a time when I smelled
the fragrance of fresh baked bread
when east winds blessed us with the aroma
from our neighborhood bakery.

There was a time when I could hear
Elvis singing on my neighbor’s hi-fi
without the head shaking sound
of a wooferized bass.

There was a time when I hopped
aboard moving freight trains
or climbed the tallest water towers,
indifferent to the loss of life and limb.

There was a time when Doug and I slinked
through harvesting backyards
pilfering grapes and teasing dogs,
ever mindful of how long the leashes were.

There was a time when I could eat
a box of Girl Scout cookies
as I watched ‘Cavalcade of Sports’
and never gain a pound.

And there was a time when I never felt
the cold as I scurried up and down
the sledding hill at Bancroft Park
with my Flexible Flyer proudly in hand.

Who Am I?

Am I the doormat you wipe your shoes on?
Or the cup you drink coffee from?
Would it better if I were a cigarette between your fingers,
so you crush me when desired, 
or, light me up so I know the fire and turn,
into ashes and to earth,
and live for the while I burn?
Or shall I be the bag you carry around,
to show off the people who surround,
Who am I?
The one you humiliate for I can't retaliate?
Who am I?
A robot perhaps with steel limbs and computer chips,
or, the one who would one day die?,
sealing your immortality among the hi-fi?
Who am I?

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