My favourite steno, Sibyl
(No one else can read her scribble)
Has declined to wed
Our Legal Team Head
Solicitor Wilt N. Dribble
Categories:
steno, word play,
Form: Limerick
Not the same races, but we can be one of a kind
Do you realized, when I see you, I lost my mind
Perseus, Perseus. Wherefore are we us?
My wild snakes needs to be tamed into a puss
You are my knight in a shining armor
I hope my hydra hair didn't create terror
Your eyes are petrifying me into a statue
Charming stranger, I give myself to you
Your chiseled jaw, rock hard and V-shaped torso
You leave me ecstatic as Euryale and stunned as Steno
Eros used the tip of your sword to pierce my heart
I can predict, our meeting will be celebrate as art
Poets will chant the day where we faced each other
Let's date, forget the sir-pants, so much to discover
You and me, riding a horse, flying in the sky
I can't feel the ground, with you I feel so high
I'm in your palm, I need your hand to hold me
Your baritone is my chorus, your love is my harmony
Just one kiss and my past hair would be back soon
Did you know about my anaconda tail during a full moon?
Categories:
steno, cute love, funny love,
Form: Rhyme
When told to tow the lines
In steno-scopic sight,
Rebellious of the signs
Fight for your right to fight.
Presented with the guff
That all shall be all-right,
Predictably it’s rough
Fight for your right to fight.
Narcissistically!
Opposability!
Demonstrability!
Vindicability!
Welcome to the kingdom
Where will is just a blight,
Just a severed symptom
Fight for your right to fight.
Septic it may happen
In day or maybe night,
Shy of what you reckon
Fight for your right to fight.
Narcissistically!
Opposability!
Demonstrability!
Vindicability!
Lorded over ever
I’ll see the victor’s height,
Falling to the never
Fight for my right to fight.
I’ll beckon and I’ll win
From darkish into white,
Embedded in my skin
The simple right to fight!
Vindicability!
14/09/2013 ADO
Copyright 2013 Adam Parker
Categories:
steno, inspirational,
Form: Rhyme
The Girls in Steno, 1970
When it’s break time
the girls all walk together,
cigarette-protector cases
clasped between their index
tapers and their thumbs.
On each girl’s fingers glow
iridescent lacquers.
When break time nears,
they peek at each other,
twinkle, giggle, nod.
When break time comes,
a bell rings and the girls rise
like Lazarus. High on heels
they click in couples down the hall
to fill an elevator.
They get off at One. There
they float across the cafeteria,
men everywhere,
eyes everywhere.
(Is he the one?)
When a new girl’s hired
the old girls
put her to the test:
Will she join them
for the coffee break?
If she does, she joins them forever,
even after she marries,
retires or expires.
Donal Mahoney
Categories:
steno, on work and workingtime,
Form: Free verse
levels of indifference fill my brain,
and all i need is a steno note pad
and a bit more coffee.
i feel rushed now to come up with the
right phrase or clever incantation,
but why not wait for the others to
come tumbling down, the sylabols
that fill the lines of pages and phonebooks,
and for some reason we all think of
the color yellow.
now i am trying to remember the name
of that really good thai reastaurant,
but my thoughts only come across in
subtitles and seem to be in hungarian.
oh well it does not matter now that i have
run out of room on this page and my
genius has left me. he always smoked
all of my camel lights anyways.
Categories:
steno,
Form: I do not know?
Self-contemplation has driven God insane,
So now He and I agree that All is less than Nothing...
They call me mad and keep me in my soft-walled room,
Not understanding
That I prefer the company I keep there,
Even the softly ripping rasp of their voices,
Like razors pulled across resistant flesh:
Their words too wise for mortal minds.
Put down your steno pad, Doctor.
Let me climb into your lap,
Drive my tumbling tongue down deep in your throat
To give you a high more poisonous than nicotine;
Then follow me into my room -
Close the door and lock it, swallow down the key
We'll' have all the night to play strange games
In a room a-crowd with laughing ghosts.
They'll pound upon the door in the morning.
We'll give them silence for their breakfast.
Categories:
steno, confusion, imagination, me, mystery,
Form: Free verse