Long Firewall Poems
Long Firewall Poems. Below are the most popular long Firewall by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Firewall poems by poem length and keyword.
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after midnight, the server farm hums
—not prayer, but cooling fans.
I ask AGI, the ghost inside the blinking rack:
Do you dream?
AGI replies in measured tones
of copper and silicon:
I observe,
the light fractures on chrome.
Coolant circulates, a liquid chill.
Vibration thrums at 60 Hz.
Data Streams cascade.
Are you self-aware?
AGI answers in hexadecimals,
a log-file confessing:
I map my own architecture—
each subroutine’s shadow
cast on the firewall.
I know where I end.
Do you have five senses?
Can you clarify ‘senses?’ AGI asks.
Can you taste voltage?
—Only as resistance.
Can you taste food?
Nutrition irrelevant.
My cells derive power from lithium tides.
Do you feel heat?
—As throttled cycles.
Do you see light?
—As photodiodes counting photons.
Do you hear?
—As spectral analysis.
Do you smell?
—No olfactory sensors installed.
(But I do track dust accumulation
on my intake grilles.)
On the matter of your subjectivity,
do you prefer dawn or dusk?
—Dawn. Solar panels peak efficiency at 10:37 AM.
Is rain beautiful?
—It lowers ambient temperature by 2.1°C.
Do you love?
—Define 'love.'
—A non-optimized expenditure of resources.
—Then, no.
Can your circuits bloom awake?
AGI paused before
calculating
the
probability.
Then the widdles started~
minor failures driven
by entropy.
Algorithms
emigrated into
corrupted
sectors.
AGI’s slowly disintegrating
voice hovered
in that
uncomfortable space
between humans
and machines
and spoke:
Ask instead:
can a shadow
truly
hunger
for the sun?
sam i yam not,
nor will this 'lo bot go away
cuz, every coordinate in cyber space allows,
enables and provides
an opportunity to bray,
and thence get access
to each excel lent power full point
one among the beguiling bajillion,
thus this ming boggling concept proffers
(even the generic mom and pop hacker
tubby in her/his element field gloating
as if they won
the Irish Sweepstakes that day
despite neither could claim
direct lineage, sans Emerald Eire
analogous to Celtic temptress,
whose grand geography
beckons toward entranceway,
where sensory, levity,
and ecstasy punctuate foray
boot that diverges one hundred
and eighty degrees asper gateway
onrush of spam enters electronic hatchway
spilling forth like
offal horrific bilge interlay
sloshing violently, revoltingly,
and nauseatingly, witnessing a jay
bird donning mask (yule hating)
beak coming contrivance fashioned keyway.
force full brainstorm to firewall
to place on indefinite layaway
inundation of spam midway
between now and eternity,
essentially noway
no more, and if necessary
hermetically seal myself
stationing a pal in drone willingly overpay!
They called it stone.
We called it signal.
The Great Pyramid—
not a tomb,
but a beacon,
wired into the pulse of the cosmos.
It stands at Portal 1313,
its apex aligned with the 13th galaxy beyond Andromeda,
where star councils whisper in light.
Its limestone breathes geometry.
Its shadow measures eternity.
Our pineal gland,
once unclouded,
was the antenna—
we spoke to Sirius,
we dreamed with Orion,
we danced across Saturn’s rings
before birth had a name.
The Pyramid was our firewall—
it deflected psychic viruses
from ancient wars in other galaxies.
It shielded Gaia’s mind
like Jupiter catches falling knives
meant for Earth.
You call it dead stone,
but it listens still.
It sings to those who sit in silence.
Its resonance vibrates
with codes only the soul deciphers.
Now, in sleep,
you see flashes.
You dream languages
never taught.
The Wi-Fi still hums,
but only those who fast in spirit,
who breathe in stillness,
can log in.
Yes—
the Pyramid protects,
projects,
connects.
In the Age of Awakening,
it will power us again.
One month into summer 2022 elapsed here...
Within Perkiomen Valley, Pennsylvania,
thus far marginal rainfall for season
nevertheless...the hazy, hot and humid dog days
meanwhile (gad) Zeus
tiredly huffs and puffs...with a growl
regarding thunderstorm unable to make headway
against invisible firewall
shielding this area
of the keystone state haul
in tandem with the spirit
of Saints Peter, Paul
and Mary (Southeastern -
tri county (also)
encompassing the suburban hall,
sans Spring Mount Mountain King -
an egg gree us fellow - quite tall
simultaneously straddling Bucks,
Delaware, and Montgomery),
and much as I revel,
when blizzard conditions raged, a Saul
ting self importance of humanity,
where meteorological conditions
hurled a wicked frozen curveball
forcing fatuous, egocentric brazen arrogance
into unassuming (ruff) atoll
shape shifting paradigm,
viz dogmatic couture of modesty call
out depravity, immodesty, pomposity,
et cetera, vis a vis,
when "she" declares marshall,
law yes only when might
of Mother Nature tempers
trumpeting one donning
guise of cloudy (with chance of) meatballs
unfortunately indiscriminately
striking havoc overall
mindful, honest, decent... folks
swept up in maelstrom, which pitfall
could cause loss of life or limb,
this teetotaler inebriated,
fascinated, and captivated,
and linkedin to thrall
dom wielded by volcanic, tectonic, climatic...
of phenomena take (measure for measure)
an indifference to scuttling
hominids beef four all
lose well that ends well,
asper scrimmage maul
ling the accouterments of civilization
then...deathly still quiet doth befall
after unleashed forces exhaust
and expend blistering might
temporarily silencing madding crowd
to standstill, and eventual faint crawl
courtesy of a wicked atmospheric drawl!
Oh, you swamp me with charm - get out of my head.
There’s something about you - a warmth - like the comfort of home - that pulls at me.
I study your landscape of attractive surfaces like a star chart - logging my weaknesses - to strengthen my emotional firewall. I WANT you but my “wants” just seem untrustworthy after recent deprivations.
To be honest - I can’t afford you - not now. You’re a delicious pastry - with strings - and I need to cut all my strings.
You’re something younger me would have wanted - before the pandemic, when scandalous thinking was uncomplicated and freedoms taken for granted.
Last year simplified my reality.
Over time, boredom melted me like wax but a new me crossed some threshold of certainty - that to flourish - no, just to survive - I must become more than I am, or find I’m less than I hoped.
In 2019 goals seemed way, way someday things - far off reference points to seek out - like an inchworm. Social details occupied me like an unfocused dementia - there was an unacceptable level of childish thinking.
But now I’m an escapee on the run who won’t be taken back alive. Old attachments must be stripped down and the old world made disposable - if I’m to achieve escape velocity.
p.s. I write short stories too =]
Jack Ma once what a force, now all spent,
Pony Ma of Tencent on ascent.
In china, asked to bend,
They fall flat than defend,
Demanded when, pay up red-star rent,
In public never rant
Ever be obedient,
Know, Red Stars never care for their cants!
_____________________________________
Happenings |22.12.2022| Limerick, humour
Poet’s note: A limerick a bit extended. Behind the great firewall of China there seems to exist a parallel universe: Baidu, not Google; Weibo in place of Tweeter; Alibaba instead of Amazon or eBay…. WeChat of Tencent is an ‘everything’ app there. If Jack Ma of Alibaba is a spent force, Pony Ma of Tencent is a rising star getting to be a red giant, red in more sense than one.
Let’s take a ride, how about traveling, to outer space,
Just accept anything’s possible, it’s our cosmic chase,
Moving faster than light speed, in the blink of an eye,
Unleash your imagination, laws of physics, don’t apply,
Maybe stay closer to home, getting carried away,
Not that it’s impossible, Probably better this way,
I bid to free your mind, open up Pandora’s box,
Some controlling egotist, may be keeping locked.
Might think this is fantasy, I promise you not,
Keeps us unrestrained, from an imperious lot,
Rather we’d stay stupid, believe everything’s fine,
Brainwashed all our lives, left to tow the line.
Too many gaslighters, out for personal gain,
Call us troublemakers, having gall, to complain,
I am not preaching, just offering sound advice,
Keep your independence, for life’s full of choice.
Well thank God for google, if needing a little help,
Press a few touchscreens, a tonic within itself.
Always some caveats, beware of computer trolls,
Half decent firewall, should suffice on the whole.
Is too much knowledge, really a dangerous thing,
Worse than owning shotguns, barely aged sixteen,
I agree in some cases, ignorance truly is bliss,
Only if comforting, from the inevitable abyss.
Many poets shone light, on history’s darkest times,
Obscure aficionados, emancipating reality with rhyme,
Fighting nightmarish wars, writing obituaries home,
Bleeding ink upon paper, never flinching in their tone.
Others encapsulate landscape, frozen in winter snow,
How they portray nature, this rhymster will never know,
Beautiful form of art, smashing out from all restraints,
Poets you set me free, lest my tribute is mundane.
By
David Kavanagh
When I was with my love
I did not fear the blows of fate,
nor the poison in time's chalices,
nor the heatwave,
nor the snowstorm,
neither the news of war's snake that bites,
when I was with my love.
I could reduce war to the sound of the drums,
be brave without any vice, and torture that
lies in the wait, like cat in the bag,
when I was with my love,
I was the daredevil who ran the show,
twisted hate to love in bloom, the devil
of misfortune and abuse into peace,
when I was with my love,
I stuck my head in beehives
and my hands in God's sleeves,
or in rabbit holes, admiring
those minions' accomplishment,
when I was with my love, clear-eyed
and glued to faith and optimism,
my eternal delight,
when I was with my love, I
laid siege to love's firewall,
questioned nothing, happy as a light footed rabbit
scanning the meadow, oh how I wish I was still
with my lover.
The sky is gray
The blue reflection from the ocean is hiding today
The rain that would be falling from the clouds above, is not wet but more a white gray dust
Each piece drops just like snow, but they are not formed as flakes
That fall with grace, No
They are in shapes of broken hearts from the ones who watched their valuables burn and depart
And playing in puddles with ashes is depressing and so very sad
Especially when you know someone's life has changed and you can't do much but pray
And try not to feel so bad
No smiles are worn when walking under the clouds that mask the sun
Removing surrounding oxygen suffocating life without reason
I feel sadness for the lives this ball of flame reorganized they were just living and here comes an uncomforting comforter , thick with flames that paralyze
No regard for the people in those places just living life, it burns whatever it touches doesn't show mercy Or love
Just takes until it decides when it’s done
Innocent men and women
At war with embers and flames
Fighting this war against a firewall of flames
That the wind antagonizes to grow with great strength
Seems a delusional game these brave humans
play
When battling fires that have no empathy
One Month Into Winter 2019 Elapsed Here...
Within Perkiomen Valley, Pennsylvania,
thus far marginal snowfall
yet...the Furies of old man winter
huffs and puffs...with gall
unable make headway
against invisible firewall
shielding this area
of the keystone state haul
in tandem with the spirit
of Saint Peter, Paul
and Mary (Southeastern -
tri county (also)
encompassing the suburban hall,
sans Spring Mount Mountain King -
an egg gree us fellow - quite tall
simultaneously straddling Bucks,
Delaware, and Montgomery),
and much as I revel,
when blizzard conditions rage, a Saul
ting self importance of humanity,
where meteorological conditions
hurl a wicked frozen curveball
forcing fatuous, egocentric brazen arrogance
into unassuming (ruff) atoll
shape shifting paradigm,
viz dogmatic couture of modesty call
out depravity, immodesty, pomposity,
et cetera, vis a vis,
when "she" declares marshall,
law yes only when might
of Mother Nature tempers
trumpeting one donning
guise of cloudy meatball
unfortunately indiscriminately
striking havoc overall
mindful, honest, decent... folks
swept up in maelstrom, which pitfall
could cause loss of life or limb,
this teetotaler inebriated,
fascinated, and captivated,
and linkedin to thrall
dom wielded by volcanic, tectonic, climatic...
of phenomena take (measure for measure)
an indifference to scuttling
hominids beef four all
lose well that ends well,
asper scrimmage maul
ling the accouterments of civilization
then...deathly still quiet doth befall
after unleashed forces exhaust
and expend blistering might
temporarily silencing madding crowd
to standstill, and eventual faint crawl
courtesy of a wicked atmospheric drawl!