Long Transistors Poems
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"Neon Reverie in ABAB"
(A Folk-R&B Ode to Silicon Dreams)
[Verse 1]
In circuits’ glow, where neon sets the mood,
We dance like Moore’s, each beat a doubling tune.
Your binary hips sway in photon’s shroud,
A queen of code, with neural tresses crooned.
[Chorus]
Let the transistors hum, let the server drums ignite,
We’re wired to love, in megahertz light.
Your algorithms kiss, a quad-core delight,
A party of progress, spinning into night.
[Verse 2]
No clocks can slow the fire in our veins,
As qubits and GPUs toast to what’s ahead.
Your lips are lines of code, a smooth compile,
We’re rewriting the moon, with cosmic read.
[Chorus]
Let the transistors hum, let the server drums ignite,
We’re wired to love, in megahertz light.
Your algorithms kiss, a quad-core delight,
A party of progress, spinning into night.
[Bridge]
But when the silicon giants tremble,
And quantum storms whisper "This is the end,"
We’ll twist the clouds to velvet,
And daisy-chain our fire through parallel streams again.
[Verse 3]
Now Gordon’s ghost raises a sapphire glass,
To lovers in data, sweating on the floor.
Your fingertips map the stars in my address,
A soul in 3D, forevermore.
[Outro]
So let the dust of atoms kiss our crown,
The future’s a lover, dancing in and out.
With silicon whispers, we’re never alone now—
A hymn of love, where the machine and heart beat as one, hallelujah.
Style Notes:
R&B Soul Infusion: Smooth, sensuous verbs ("hips sway," "algorithms kiss") and synths mimicking a human heartbeat.
Folk Roots: Narratives of legacy ("Gordon’s ghost") and communal joy ("dancing on the floor").
ABAB Flow: Each quatrain tightens like a circuit—confident, rhythmic, with a wink to the "party" energy.
Sexual Metaphors: Tech as a lover ("lips are lines of code," "fingertips map the stars").
Blue-Eyed Soul Twist: Playful, velvety harmonies in the chorus for a retro-synthwave vibe.
Vacuum tubes made a radio too big.
The huge size was something I didn't dig.
That created a problem that was easy to see.
I could not carry a radio around with me.
Besides, the tubes burned out too frequently.
They also wasted big amounts of electricity.
For convenience sake, something had to be done.
Out came a new invention, and the battle was won.
With transistors, radios were made in a much smaller size.
Portability was something we could now realize.
With one hand, we could hold a receiver to our ear.
There were many broadcasting AM stations to hear.
So went the everyday course of history.
That was just a little tidbit of my memory.
I: In Rhyme
when the world had no headsets
the sunbathing crowd
fell asleep to the sounds of
transistors played loud
while the deckchairs and windbreaks
kites, beach balls and more
formed the stripes, lines and circles
that painted the shore
and the longer I walked
on the sand to that sea
the more the sea seemed
to get further from me
and the crunch in my mouth
was that one grain of sand
in the sandwich I ate
with my sand covered hand
while the lemons and melons
and plums I'd watch spin
would stop short of a cherry
one click from a win
and the postcards we sent
from the end of the pier
were of blue skies and donkeys
and "wish you were here".
II: In Free Verse
from the end of the pier
through the stiff breeze
and spindrift
I can still hear the tunes
of the promenade bands
and I can still see the stripes
of the deckchairs and windbreaks
and the box kites
and beach balls
that painted the shore
and I can still taste
the butter
- warm like the canned ham
and the crunch of that sand
in the sandwich I had
and I can still hear the djs
laughing and talking
spinning hits of the sixties
from transistors
played loud
and I can still smell the onions
frying wild in the fairground
to the sound of the claxons
and the lemon. click. orange. click. melon.
click. click.
and I can still breathe the deep smoke
swirling in sand dunes
from the benson and hedges
and
player's no.6
and I can still see those grown ups
staring at mirrors
- their bodies distorted
like the dreams
they once had
today on the pier
the rain that's now falling
falls from a same sky
on a same sand
and same sea
and a
same
me
- yet this air
this air
is not the same air
as that air I
once
breathed.
Fish scale sequin
Burn unit skin
Glittering in the blister
DNA altered by radiations kiss
Chromosomes twisted like transistors
Sunlight falls around the sister
She hums her prayer in the morning dew
In gardens beyond the walls
Where patients cannot crawl
To puff on cigarettes
She walks the realm of the undead
The absent minded
The ones out of body
Floating between the wards
Geriatrics and psychiatry
Pop the pills and pray for peace
Luminal states glowing in the crease
She thinks that is where God might be
She waits with the diva in sequins
Burnt to the shins
Removed of all sins
The priest left hours past
She looks into the poor girls eyes
Waits for any sign
Lightning in the sky
Iris at night
Sleep too bright
But shepherds are rarely seen
In this quiet realm
Where the only sound
Is the beat of the machines
As they pump out the last signal
Total eclipse of the heart
Gone too soon
Never to part
Words recorded on rings
In ceremony
In spring
The world turns on a string
Cosmic and stretched thin
Will they remember
The summer of loves surrender
When the girl who came from the street
Died in the heat
Journalist captures the kiss
Riot in the street
Rue Misericorde
Mercy Street
Emergency needs
Nun closes the eye
Coins for the ferryman
Cross over the river
Cross to the sea
She gives the body to time
She leaves the bedside
The sequins fall to the floor
The diva has been here before
Forty hours in the sun
Eyes burned from the light
She saw it flicker
Saw it fade
Not ready to end the phase
The shift
The drift
The moment at the door
Three times knocking
She tries to see
Who answers the door
Who waits
Who wakes
Who stays
Who suffers the silence of remaining
She waits her turn
Spinning the wheels of fate
Dancing along the periphery
Of destiny
Is she the guide
Or the obstruction
Clear the channel
Empty the cell
This is the moment no one will tell
But she remains
To gather up the dust
When the moment is rust
lest ye seek alms
with outfaced palms
just imagine
how the lantern shone
against the knees of Archelaus,
and lit up the check-board pattern
of the eleemosynary trousers
Fatigued civilian attires reasonable rhyme
challenging readers to dare themselves
question yours truly what ranks as
unleashing trademark punishing crime.
Words worth more'n fine spun gold
courtesy those considering themselves literate,
perhaps recipients of countless laurels extolled,
nevertheless mediocre (ha) logophile
crafts poem(s) inducing scold.
Dire straits force me to abide
the law of self preservation
and espouse with permission granted
by Bedrich Smetana
to abscond with bartered bride
think infamous American robbery team
Bonnie and Clyde
responsible for a 21-month
crime spree from 1932 to 1934
as analogous nefarious
transgression in league with human
author of mine verse, thus thee decide
to befriend bipedal hominid,
who scours earthwide
(and if necessary extending search
beyond outer limits of twilight zone,
where dark shadows
slink along the edge of night)
for fine prairie home companions
ideally from Lake Woebegone,
or outliers with documentation falsified
turning to humble *****sapien
as their spiritual guide,
he will be game and willingly surrender
mine Yankee doodling dandy buttucks,
his posterior gluteus maximus hide
if he falls short of promise
to bring webbed wide world bliss
witnessed as emasculation
toward himself intensified
cuz truth be told
interpersonal connections
allow, enable, and provide
kinetic, opportunistic, rhapsodic,
and universalistic joyride.
All decked out like one base 2 ace
of spades, or king of hearts
traveling at lightspeed thru cyberspace
traveling as binary unit with amazing grace,
the zeros flickering like a moonface
hopscotching between nodes uptrace
sing journey across the Internet.
Many a favorite YouTube tutorial venue
represent virtual re: digital haunts I review
to bolster pulling myself up by bootstraps
such sites out of webbed wide world
include basic digital electronics,
computer networking fundamentals,
how transistors work, plus
miscellaneous other tidbits.
Sonnet of Silicon Dreams
In corridors of thought where circuits hum,
Gordon spoke, a prophet clad in light,
"Each chip shall grow, with time, become the sum
Of dreams and visions, reaching dizzy height."
With every two years, power shall ignite,
Through transistors’ dance, the world we shall transform,
Yet whispers of limits loom in the night,
As tiny giants face the quantum storm.
Once giants roamed the land of silicon,
With pixels bright and data streams that flow,
Yet now the pace slows, a changing dawn,
As new designs emerge, new seeds to sow.
In reverence we stand, to what was wrought,
A legacy of light, in circuits caught.
OLD AND NEW 2 : BOARDROOM
Jackal preyed on dimpled dolls
smiling gold on slender wrist
nosing down a slippery path
scowling schoolboy promoted
beyond his mediocre castle
Mammals sat on polished teak
coiffed moustaches, tonged peaks
feeding unclipped grapevines
old words and wounds
eating raisin muffins
Falcon scribbled notes
watching eyes serving
newly ordained masters
legalese from a previous
age flowed from fine shifting
fingers in a cage
Overgrown thyroid sat there
his infantry lost in teeming
townships blaring transistors
interrogators of another time
peeped at a polished tiger-eye
on his seat
Minds like noisy tools
drilled atomic holes in
the boardroom table
beaded headdresses falling
from fat oozing french seams
They will learn Christmas carols
in mint retirement homes
when the table losses its legs
©GhairoDanielsPoetry1997
I saw your light deep in the valley of my mind
Against the backdrop of fecund canopy stillness
With Dragon trees and other pines of Dagon
Shivering wet from the Spring
Yielding to June
Band warming Day,
as if the rush of Sunlight beaming
waywards
Couldn't hold the Summer aways
And New Cones sauntering
on the Shadowed Path
of my youthful heart
charged suddenly with Ambient light
glowing all around
fauna and shrub
fern and lilly
canticle of dahlia
and Mercury Rose
All Scents Sweetly culling
rivers of light
and the natural synthesis of Pine
Percolating from dust to dust
Like transistors of chlorophyll
or programmed scents from
the Maker
Rivers of light
running upwards
towards the Awaiting
Sun, an orb of light
And Nature's Full Symphony
A collection of Saintly notes
Melodious Larks and Sparrows
giving Birth to the First Ocean of light
the Sun Itself
The Final Sea
Suspended in Waves of Time shimmering
waves of Light
and Flowing towards Aethiru and from Aethiru
Until Time itself should gather its Eons of Unfolding
Memory and
Becomeas Bound as the Ocean
To Unwind Yet Again
The Mystery
Transistors fizz
Electrons bustle
As robots claim
The daily hustle
The hinges creak
The oil of words
Is missing from
The mindless herds
They oft parade
With heads bowed low
Quite frankly,
Nowhere else to go
As hooked in tasks
In ruts with traction
Replace the normal
Human faction
Robots make robots
Or so I'm told
They replicate
The lies they're sold
Perpetuating
All that manic
In ways that seem
Somewhat satanic
The robot wars
Are not to fear
Just realise that they
Are here
Dispense with screen
Release your mind
In un-robotic ways
You'll find
The beauty of
The world around
When eyes you lift
Will soon be found;
Through trees and rain
Bare feet on grass
A world machines
Can ne'er surpass
The pores of life
Should breathe it in
Beguiled no more
By wars of tin.