Has the convenience of technology
inoculated us from reality?
Do androids dream of electric sheep?
I pray the code my soul to keep?
Does your universe live within 4G
Or megapixel infinity?
Which memory lies within
The one that was
Or the one that's been
Or how much gig how much ram?
Which reality is true?
Cyber me
Or cyber you?
Cyber bully
Cyber crime
Cyber hate
Cyber time?
Cyber boxer
Or cyber brief?
Who is the real identity thief?
Cyber pleasure
Cyber pain
Hours spent glaring into the screen
Choosing an alternate username.
Status updates and trending tweets
Fill your mind and rob your sleep.
Clever hashtags and Instagram
Will shape your image and gain more friends.
Is the you you've shaped in cyberspace
The same you I'd see face to face?
We hide behind our computer screens
And criticize with brutal ease.
Virtual reality
Is buying souls of men you see
And robbing the ability to dream real dreams.
I want to conquer something real
That I can grab that I can feel.
I want to touch life and hold on tight
I want to unblock true friends
And "like" real sights.
I want conversation face to face
In real world time
In a real world place.
It's funny
How did a computer
A silly computer
A flat screened computer
Become my obsession?
I wake up
There it is
Waiting
Begging
Inticing
"Turn me on"
"play with my buttons"
I look at the bright screen
Remembering the Poltergeist warning
"Don't go into the light"
But it's so pretty!
I'm sure I'll be alright
Eyes see
Pupils dilate
Pulse quickens
As my fingers tap feverishly on keys
Traveling to different places with ease
Wondering
Who else sees
Images like these
Hers and hims and other me..s
Infected by their computer disease
Friends I connect with
Around the clock
Ticking while I'm talking
And wrestling with a sock
Late for work again
What a shock
A cup of coffee
on the keyboard spilled
My glowing obsession
is sadly killed
Emotional me
With remorse I'm filled
Then I pause until I'm chilled
I reach for my smart phone
Thankfuly I'm OK
I can keep in touch anyway
Here in my pocket
I have a way to play
A portable flat screened obsession
I can access night and day!
For Carol's Computer Contest.
Copyright © 2015 Richard Lamoureux
Feeling like a lodger
In my own home
Thankful for my music
And my new found roam
Families and communities
They are just so hard to find
But in April 2009
I found the most precious kind
I found the name amusing
So the button i clicked on to see
The layout was very inviting
Like an open door should be
For in a matter of minutes
On first uploading a poem
This Highlander was content
He had found a welcome home
So many lovely writers
Poets who share their bless
No longer this Scotsman is
The Man in the Wilderness
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/me.php
You were always happy, always on the move
with a great zest for life and a heart full of love.
We loved you too and checked to see if you’d get mad
if we mimicked your habits, but you laughed instead.
When we were in school together, you often horsed around;
I ribbed you about eye trouble, eyes too close to the ground.
You lived life with gusto, knowing your time was short;
playing hard, working harder, often with a jolly retort.
Honest to a fault, you saw the positive side of things;
kept things in order, solid rock with no mood swings.
Cut off jeans, gray tee shirt, tinted glasses, baseball hat;
great big grin, teasing quip, a big hello, a friendly chat.
You were the best teacher any student ever had;
I could call on you to help as though you were my dad.
You drove my school bus on many a winter morn;
dressed in brown coveralls, bottom legs frayed and worn.
You were there in summer, helping coach baseball games;
at football with your camera or turning cartwheels in the gym.
You taught us how to care, how to study, how to play;
how to work on the computer and make the most of every day.
So determined to learn, spending hours at a throw;
self-teaching all the things a teacher needed to know.
You are the poem of my life, who you were tells the tale;
your poem will last forever, healing memories never pale.
You wrote the words of this poem, pages of my life tell the story;
you will read them back to me, when we meet again in glory.
There you go again, you “Cyber Brat”!
There is “no such website”? What is that?
First you lead me through a wild web maze;
I Google, then succumb to your craze.
What happens if I hit “delete”?
Will my work vanish, incomplete?
Or do you wish to cast me aside?
I’ll tap “escape” and wash out high tide!
Your camera is like a stalker;
I cuss it like an inane squawker.
If I press “shift,” will the Earth’s poles move?
Your choice of labels you could improve.
So I’ll “insert” myself into your brain,
In a quest to make you more humane.
The poor page tires of your “up” and “down”
Now the court jester can wear your crown!
No more “errors” or lost connections,
And I’ll rid those viral infections.
Take me back to the old typewriter,
Days when the world’s load seemed far lighter.
I promise I’ll never eke out a "tweet"
When I replace “Word” with a paper sheet.
The old “White Out” is still in my desk
And it’s never looked more statuesque!
*Written April 1, 2015, for Carol's contest.
Birthdays, reunions, vacations and hikes.
Weddings, divorces and photos of tykes.
Vids of grandkids on their skateboards and bikes.
These are the things every cyber Friend 'Likes'!
And I walk
across numerical figments
speaking hyperbole dialect to their imaginations.
Numb, blocky gaps
whisper invitation to secret club.
Enticing my stature
to belong
to become exponent’s side-kick.
So they can welcome me with open arms.
Coating my digits with inoperable tumors
double-knotted in hot pink laced bow
and baby-breath scent.
They even left a Walmart Rollback smiley face sticker
with crack residue on right cheek
and a comic-style bubble caption, “welcome home puppet”.
Yes!
This is exactly how Mother 1 told me it would be.
Kinda like marriage,
but less detail-oriented.
But, I could never fit in.
For I am neither positive
nor negative
about their (cult) ural ways.
Timing would always be off.
An arm from the clock that suffered a stroke at Midnight…
They’d never understand,
how they’d alter this unevenly, odd numerical figment.
For they’ll just calculate,
deduce,
my sum with rusty protractor.
This Zero, into a fraction...
© Drake J. Eszes
Of the items in the store,
All were second hand
An old computer did I buy,
With a broken stand
One side was badly scratched
Two knobs were missing too
But that’s not the story
I’m about to tell to you
T’was about the second week
Of the ‘puter at my place
Sitting there against the wall
Near the old staircase
I recall the night was late
As I readied me for bed
When I turned the ‘puter off,
The screen … it turned blood-red
The appearance caused a start
I gasped a gulp of air
I couldn’t turn my gaze away
I stood right there and stared.
Then a low murmuring
From deep within the set
Cold chills ran over me
I’ve not forgotten yet
A voice, low and menacing
Containing graveled rasps
I could not then stop again
My involuntary gasp
I stood there mesmerized
My gaze remained transfixed
Emotions racing through me
And all of them were mixed
The Voice on the other side
Of the blood-red display screen
Issued a command to me
So ominous and mean:
“Place your hand upon the screen
And repeat these words to me:
Where you are right now,
Is where I need to be.”
I felt my arm move upward
Powerless to resist
I felt a burning in my palm
As the display screen it kissed
I heard a voice and realized
The speaker it was me:
“Where you are right now,
Is where I need to be.”
As the words transmitted,
Involuntarily,
I could feel a change come on …
Overwhelming me.
As I stared in disbelief
My hand – it disappeared
Absorbed into the blood-red screen
As the burning onward seared …
Through my wrist, up my arm
It’s hotness I could feel
Inward was I screaming
Not believing this was real!
In reflection from the screen
I was being pulled into
I saw a face, and then I screamed:
“That horrid face is YOU!”
The rapid assimilation
Continued then until
All feelings were extinguished
And all was calm and still.
A trillion beings there transformed
To tiny bytes and bits
And ‘tis every part of us
All websites now transmits
Now here I am deep inside
This computers’ display screen
If there’s disturbance felt
Oh so sharp and keen
Just place your hand upon the screen
And read these words to me:
“Where you are right now,
Is where I need to be.”
You tell me you have the space you need,
That makes me want you to get closer,
You have so much you could offer,
A couple of servers along with full exposure.
With all that ram that you have in that tower,
It would make my tech world come alive,
Baby, that all sound so darn appealing to me,
But what I want to know is, how big is your hard drive?
My laptop is a very pretty shade of purple,
I open her top gently and dust off her keys;
Calmly I press the start key and wait patiently,
And I wait patiently composed in myself and full of hope.
I am humming when at last I am connected,
The internet is before me and I am on my way;
And then it happens, "internet connection lost,"
Oh gosh and darn it I start the whole process once again.
And again and again I try but not quite so calmly,
Okay finally here we go I am on my way to creating;
On my way to poetry soup and to writing a poem,
And then it happens, "poetry soup is not responding."
I am ready to throw the computer out the window,
I scream at my laptop, "your usefulness is used up;"
Off I go to have a tea and to smooth my feathers,
Kitty has been watching me and decides to give it a whirl.
_______________________
March 22, 2015
Light Poetry
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