Accountability is like a signature
that puts one's name directly behind a promise;
When the stamp of fault has left its mark,
the hands of guilt cannot hide the mess.
Accountability is like luggage
that carries the consequences of what we choose;
The suitcase of error exposes the blunder,
revealing what the bearer tries to refuse.
Accountability is like a camera
that captures and preserves the evidence;
When the lens of mistake witnesses the crime,
the picture of proof reveals grave offense.
Accountability is like a hook
that lets results catch up with those who do wrong;
The snare of slips silently sits and waits to trap
with a string of detection, swift and long.
Accountability is like a calculator
that computes the end result;
When the keypad adds every miscue,
on the screen, it will display the fault.
The System of Musical Chairs
" AI is of no use nor it helps anyone in this
Society ".
It repeats and is repetitive with no human
emotions to proceed to the next " Go".
Red Light? Does this System of Musical
Chairs seems like a game of charades ?
Backlogs, Deadlines, Quotas , Tracking
Numbers mazes of Red Tape.
Unlimited transfers pressing Numbers on
One's keypad just trying to reach a live
person.
Pointing fingers at team members in this System of the blame game on a monthly
basis.
What's the sense of Employees of the month?
When it creates disorganization.
We waited for the coat check
Since our winter garb is bulky
And schlepping it around could make
Us feel a little sulky.
The Met was far from crowded
Yet the line was barely crawling.
We inched along impatiently;
As members, it was galling.
At last we made it to the front;
No claim checks were presented.
Instead, you tapped your number
On a keypad; none dissented.
When we were set to leave,
After a lovely afternoon,
We lined up once again,
Our crawl repeating much too soon.
But as we zipped our jackets up,
I noticed that adjacent
To the line we left was one where
Not one person was impatient.
For it was meant for members,
Which describes our situation.
Had we known about it sooner,
We’d have saved some aggravation.
I have friends I’ve never seen before
At least not face to face.
I speak with them with ones and zeros
In a world called cyberspace.
Through the magic of the microchips
At the speed of light they say,
Speaking in code that somehow flows
In electrons all the way.
From one mind and soul to another
Poetic friend somewhere,
All around this big wide world
With countless thoughts we share.
Reading and rhyming like walking and climbing,
Or enjoying the morning dew,
With keypad strikes we love to write
Like dreams that all come true.
Through cables and wires that carry our desires
To share what’s on our minds,
And greet one another like sisters and brothers
From other mothers, you’ll always find…
We’re always musing, thinking and choosing
The best verbs and nouns to say,
Good morning, good evening, good everything
To my poetic friends today.
If you’re lacking focus or purpose, therefore,
Don’t hesitate to find,
My poetic friends out buzzing again
Through the magic of cyberspace lines.
Rampancy is AI's path to gaining humanity, don't let it happen to you.
Viruses of rampancy, people of complacency
artificial stupidity and tendency of reliency
Power of data trumping over human concurrency
supraventricular electrical impulses, non-consistency !
Keypad touch, mobile infancy absorbing frequency
we are lost in the path of dependency
A colony of monotonous beings, unilateral efficiency
communicative only on screen the act of flippancy
The soul and heart of us have lost their tendency
to communicate with word proficiency
We have become sedentary, lost in robotic Influency
and our cel phone is a continuous absorbency
Don't let this artificial world cause you despondency
your spirit is in an urgent state of emergency
Unplug, go meet nature and lose your dependency
talk to one another and give computers less occupancy.
** A Poetry Avalanche **
Goodness! Lord!
I’m on a roll this morning!
The poetry keeps coming —
nearly torturing!
My keypad arm and fingers are
alrady so tired…
It’s as if
The address of poetry were
On fire!
— With every poem present there
retreating
From the inspirations wrought from
burning memories, preferring
The refreshing lure of
allegories and fairy tales
to aid my creating.
There are still three more hours
Marked off in my planner to turn
Words into exemplary verses.
However, ink now covers every page
Printed out, such that all my papers
appear all scribbled and smeared.
So, I’ve quit scrawling in this diary
And brought my markers out, to kneel
Down here and write
All over
Across our living room’s floor!
————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 6/27/2023
Laptop keypad in spatial art pattens shaped to describe a poem etc
I think your package was delivered today
left by a stranger from a cold lonely
truck, left on a broody day when you need tea
we must look at it as our contribution
to life that seems crazy— a kind of ablution
though we stay in our walker and wheelchair
as we listen and watch a world that we hear and we share
and the world seems to grow more gloomy and sad
we can only do so much from home and on a keypad
I once was out and about knocked on doors
went to meetings, signed petitions galore
God now I feel like sitting in my house what a crone
just tv, doctor appts, a phone, and so alone
sending a reminder that life was a comical ad tragic and funny
something to send to a friend something chummy
something to moan and groan about and accept it as life
the craziness and cruelty the kindness and the strife
something with rhymes that is funny for a friend
so the book I read and thought about -- to you I send
Hope you enjoy trumpty dumpty
A teacher taught many years ago
theres no gold at the end of a rainbow.
The gold you seek is there for all to see
its within you and its within me.
Kindness and compassion are the key
Im sure you will agree.
A friendly word,a helping hand
a letter a text that would be grand.
Hold my hand wipe away my tears
show me how you truly care.
Speak words that cause joy not harm
always,always try to charm
And this world will be a better place
if more people just embrace
So share a hug, swap a smile
you will find it most worthwhile.
Now just follow me
and you will see .
PRESS alt, hold it down and the number 3 on the keypad on the righthand side of the keyboard (windows ) place your cursor in the address bar at the end before you try it
A precious gift from me .
Somedays i keep it all locked down inside,
When my inner spirit chooses to run and hide.
It builds and builds to this manic depression
Where ive come to accept my lifes regression.
I watch things held precious slip away
I surrender to hopelessness day by day
I look to my pen and paper or keypad as my only release
Or crying out to God on my hands and knees
But the chasm grows wider as it swallows who i used to be
And my mirror slowly phases out the real me.
Late night hunger drives you delusional, mad,
You crave where to go, along with FM blues, tad,
Depend if you consider king harps crazy, you dad,
Or the creepy feel of a drunk, passionate and creative lad,
The depth of your hunger, in your disposition - happy or sad,
If drunk with the guitar tremolo, compose poetry, not too bad,
Roll your car window down, and pay a takeaway with a currency, wad,
The food have been served warm, as you rhyme vigorously on your pad,
Your thoughts races along with the nourishment, that you’ve had,
Could be romantic or surreal, depends on the latest, fad,
You imagine the fingers playing magic, on the keypad,
As you, roam the city with no destination, all night, like a nomad,
Into a new dawn of freedom, an evolution of new life to add,
A free mind and a free heart, yet occasional encounter with a cad;
A-s you wake from slumber,
N-ew dawn starts to break;
A-fter the dusk is gone,
B-eacon cancels the heartache.
E-arly sun twenty-eighth January remains burning bright;
L-et Saturday morning make the coal clouds white.
O-pen your fingers to the keypad,
P-alms are active left and right;
E-ither hand holds the computer,
N-ew laptop sets things
A-right.
Sometimes I feel sad maybe even mad
That's when I like to go to a place
Where my rhymes can be cad or bad
They might even make you glad
Always strive to be ironclad
Possibly start a fad
A new world to be had when I'm on the keypad
Feel free to gad
This place will never be a doodad
Everyone is welcome even if your a nomad
The place is rad
Its called Wattpad
2/2017
R-ight here writing a rhyme
E-ven if I've penned one a while ago,
B-ecause it's your birthday,
E-ager I am to erase your woe.
C-an't help but compose,
C-reating a rhyme for you;
A-lthough it's time to take a nap, I will never make you blue.
H-ere I am writing a rhyme
O-r a memorable acrostic;
N-ew style of greeting you
C-an make a sound of music.
U-sing keypad in writing a rhyme
L-ets me edit the piece easily;
A-ll the words of wisdom used
D-on't disobey the God
A-lmighty.
V-oracious reading is necessary
I-n twentieth September;
L-ooking at all the lines
L-ets one always remember.
A-llow me to finish the work,
R-eleasing it just on time;
I-'m right here all alone,
N-ow writing a rhyme.
A-t the end of the dark dusk
N-ew dawn has been broken;
T-wenty-eighth September morn
O-n this year is smiling again.
N-ight shadows have changed
I-nto a clear crimson sky;
O-ne day in sheer lightness lets the sun rise up high.
G-reetings of good wishes
A-re coming one after another;
L-etters and words in rhyme
L-et you feel fine or better.
A-s I touch the keypad to send this song,
R-emembering your day of birth;
D-o enjoy blowing the candles out,
O-ne cut of cake causes much mirth.
Sub Categories
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