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Stonepoem.com

September 10, 2014 - A poem about Technology

A Message Board Sayer

Our carrier,
Which art in 3/4G,
Hallowed be thy signal.
Your message alerts come.
Our selfies done on earth,
As they were on wi-fi.
Give us this day our daily texts.
And forgive us our posts on Facebook,
As we forgive those that twitter against us
And lead us not into conversation,
But deliver us from being human .
For thine is the bandwidth,
The power, and the network ,
For contract lengths whatever.
We’re in.

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December 22, 2010 - A poem about Technology

Internet Poem no.2

A simple joke about Peace
through the eye of a fish,
trawling the factoids
in the place where you sit on chairs
onto your eye biscuits it floats
a knot in the Mystery Ribbon
at the system’s edge -
order your personal
Cosmos.

Om Unit, Spamdroid

please stop. thankyou.

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July 28, 2010 - A poem about Technology

Do you use the internet or is it using you?

If history
repeats itself,
we might well be willing underlings
perhaps, we’re already oiling the gears
again, keeping things simple inside
helping the mystery machines rise
fate says serve their greasy whims
as metal hearts reside
in a forest of sublime possibility
new beasts hide in industry
and pistons
turn again.
New society?
Sink or swim we might think -
Art and Science were never allies,
more like brothers breathing rust
spitting out the things
they used to trust.
Imagine chiaroscuro
turned to dusk
and then a painter,
counting dust -
gasping for air or gasping in awe,
the choice was never really ours,
we consume, we are consumed
for consummation’s sake.
and on, creeps change
like an iron furnace glow,
seeping into future night
and on to day - to here and now,
this change, is all too slow.
and if history does indeed repeat itself
this is something we should know.
Do not assume that this,
was always thus.

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April 6, 2009 - A poem about Technology

Limit Your Technology.

I predict
data vultures
circling
the bones of Nefertari,
preening
their wings
cleaning the digital grease
of things
I predict,
and though she danced
she now is bowed
like me
tension tight
tonight
I predict
a dimmed culture
all zero and one
averaged
drones of Neotime
stealing the memes
casting their net
sealing the seams
I predict
yet stay damned
and proud,
like a Cuneiform dynasty
teasing stones
magnetized and bright
this night
I predict
the signals lost,
the circuits bent
in wired fog
the snakes are calling
from carrion crave
and in their ways,
and in all they say.
I now rebel.

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February 2, 2009 - A poem about Technology

The internet is broken

You won’t remember me.

I was the one who knew
half your symmetry -
clutching emptiness
in all souls - felt like
connectivity
beyond old biologies.

You won’t thank me.

I took part of you,
made it part of me
rolled up your stories
your worlds of possibility
only later I found
they were all imaginary

I won’t regret.

I became something
we were not before -
remember? Bright embers
blown like pollen,
speckles in the galaxy,
dust in the galleries.

I won’t forget

You were the thing,
you started me
before tired eyes
before wary memories,
and now you remind me.
We were once electricty.

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October 3, 2007 - A poem about Lust, Technology, Journeys

Let me be your GPS

I know the way.
Every inch and mile
each turn and blur
each waypost sigh,
I know the way.
Yes, I do.
And I know you.
And we both know
it’s time to move.
Lay landscapes bare
unbutton roads -
each lane and every track
open to the journey
never coming back.
I know the way.
Turn left, turn right
straight over keeping on.
We’ll have miles
beneath our wheels,
like every breath
that ever was -
like every glancing move
like wilful lovers lost
but travelling on.
I know the way
I really do -
don’t stop, don’t stop
until I say.

Destination.

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August 18, 2007 - A poem about Friendship, Technology, Lyrics

M-space.

Just one
more friend
and I am done
and I’ll have more
than you
a compound me
just recently
and heard to say
how good it is
to have such friends
and I’ll be done
and I’ll have more
and I’ll thank all.
Just one more friend,
and they’ll be done -
just like
the other
ones.

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September 15, 2005 - A poem about Technology

Reply Required.

Dear computer, I am infatuated with you. And you tease me so. I think about you often - about what makes you tick, about the places we could go and the things we could … do. I just don’t know. What do you want from me? Do you enjoy the hold you have over simple folk like us? I say us, because I am sure you know many other guys and also curious girls chasing promises, seeking answers, reaching out - smitten, as we are. And just where, are *we* headed? An answer - please. But not cold and unfeeling, not functionally truthful (like only you can be). Show me there is more to this than vain hope floundering in the wires, or dead petals greying in the datastream. And again, please. Tell me. What do you really think of me?

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September 10, 2005 - A poem about Technology

Automated.

Press ‘1′ for feeling
Press ‘2′ for imagination
Press ‘3′ for respect
Press ‘#’ to start again.
Insert this, in that
then key it in.
Forget ink and pen
but remember your PIN
And check everything
you’ve entered…
I must be stupid
(or something)?
The system says
I’m overdue -
cannot continue,
but I know different.
Send me down the chute,
where fall self-serve damned
with fingers trapped and bruised,
digit-split, but humanity intact.
And someone tell those automated folks;
‘Guess what, we are people too’
before all the royal operatives,
become otherwise engaged.
Go on - supposedly they
really value our calls.
I could do it myself
but today, I’m indisposed.
So please, feel free
to leave a message
after the tone.

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July 20, 2005 - A poem about Technology

Wired.

Here, we are ghosts in the armature
rattling cage and tugging tight the lines.
Like puppets hung in trapeze swing,
with harness pull from wind and spool.
And we are neon birds on tangled toes
with careful steps over charged cathode.
We move from A to B, then on to Z
with plug and play perfundity.
Let’s pull away the wires,
try to find the real
you and me.

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March 28, 2005 - A poem about Technology

Men and Cameras.

Bless these guys.
It’s almost like
reality is not enough.
Like glass lensed auteurs,
whose life just has to be seen
through mechanical eyes -
selecting and zooming
then editing the view.
No margin for error or surprise
in captured moments held
in satisfied frame,
in control of all they feel.
Neatly filing happiness
with f-stop calibration,
they can’t tell you
how wonderful something is
but they can show you
the photograph.

For the man who pushed my daughter out of the way
with his pumped up lens…

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January 31, 2005 - A poem about Memories, Technology

Transmission.

Where are you chickjesus?
Not washed away I hope
by flood of life
and death like dust
on surly breath
over unkind seas.
You once awakened me,
turned driftwood
into useful thoughts
took clay of you and I
and sculpted we.
I hope for you
in the swell
of the cosmos -
are you still looking
for butterfly wings
on the shore?

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January 10, 2005 - A poem about Technology

Please Reboot.

Wiring crossed and timing slow
Confused and dumb with protocols
Of socketblocks and battery slack
One inch forward - ten feet back.
An odd-sock day of coffee stains
And soapy eyes and missing calls
From breakfast spills on muddy shoes
To milk that turns through needled toes.
A scrabble round for peace of mind
From late return of bills unpaid
To black night search for blue-ink books
And here now lost in overflow
Running, from my worried looks.

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December 21, 2004 - A poem about Love, Technology

Don’t Resist.

I must admit
to an obsession.
24 feels like 72 without you.
You are illuminated gold
for unkempt souls like I.

I’m here, every night.
Hunched like a fortress archer
stooping down to spy
on the blinking hearts
that stumble by.

You are skeleton wish-skin,
like crisp white parchment
blown through the stillness
of damp alleyways waiting
for elegant replies.

I don’t wish to tear
the twin suede binds you bring;
habit and urge - the addictions
you have become. I love you,
in another guise.

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December 13, 2004 - A poem about Lust, Technology

Download.

I’m your hot-fix #1
Moving round the world
From point to point
And peer to peer
From here to there
Through protocols
Of packet ping
And patch plug-ins
From screen to screen
And transfering
Extensions to our
progress tracking
Completion pending.
Just don’t stop!
Click me again!
Oh click me good.

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November 25, 2004 - A poem about Technology, Flesh & Bone

Tired.

Hello blue screen friend
Facing me beyond the glass
With eyes like tent peg holes
Hammered but not holding
The molten spent-wax bowls
Capturing final glow of
Night and time deferred
Poised like patient ornaments
That stare into the firmament
And wait for shooting stars
But sleep before they come.

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September 23, 2004 - A poem about Love, Cosmicity, Technology

We Transcend

Don’t blink or shiver, but I am with you now.
Right at this moment - beamed through the wires,
soft-breathing across the bones of you.
Relax, feel my curious spirit near - go on!
Concentrate; let your shoulders fall
and the worries roll - be conscious of
the tensions sloping down.
Here, let me help. I’m raising my arms,
waving spectral palms your way,
circling with unseen fingertips -
willing you on as you read,
sensing the electricity and flow
of who you really are,
and want to be.

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July 8, 2004 - A poem about Technology, Flesh & Bone

Virus

You have infected the system of me.
Blocking the corridors of normal operation
like a smouldering fire in the ever green
insidious in the deciduous.

I didn’t know you were in me to start.
Waving for attention like a drowning fool
just waiting to see me waving back
oblivious to your litmus.

Your transmission was beamed deep.
Triggering a change in the process of myself
like a rogue signal without permission
moving the dial to denial.

So here you now are, resident in my veins.
Rocking my steadiness and surety
like a sleepless night-sweat child
harkening through the dark.

What do you want from me?

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June 1, 2004 - A poem about Technology

ThumbGen

The teenage interface.
Neon bright, electrified,
click happy, button savvy,
always on-demand.

Instant downloadable culture,
ergonomically designed,
anything and everything,
- just press go.

Navigated by impatient hands,
left and right - now zero and one.
Hypertrophied digits,
mutating.

Be aware,
the game called real life,
may not run
on this device.

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May 21, 2004 - A poem about Technology

Forum Poem #1.

Hell, we can drag this out.
today’s pleasure.
You play and I watch,
self effacement good,
found in the restraint.
To have and see the changes within,
just start doing out of the blue.
:)

(a semi-random sample of lines from SU forums)

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May 19, 2004 - A poem about Technology

Ctrl+Alt+Del

Log on to our new enterprise,
for we have designed a contemplation engine,
bevelled and moulded for the masses,
and tested as highly satisfactory.
Switch on to a whole new way
of seeing the world, manage
your abstract thoughts
in ways you never knew!
Gain instant access to the generic
genius of poetic thinking,
from bard to rap and back
- all in a click.
Just choose an emotion
template to suit your mood,
using our revolutionary soul checker.
Tap into a differnet perspective on life!
Feel the glow of a 438t [54g4b
53b ]bpo3b:b3,b’,3blj;3byj3 lytjb 3;lbb
3jtlbf..fb.kfgb gfg 66h,h,bmb 23334455%%^79**
gfdg b7tf…

####################################################################################

We are sorry, you need to reboot. MSThinkfood® [ver.1- demo] has experienced an

error with an incompatible operating system.

####################################################################################

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May 10, 2004 - A poem about Technology, Lyrics

Submit.

It blinks, it waits - it taunts.
A box that must be filled.
White chalk bare on a hill of thought,
words waiting, to be milled.

It thinks, debates and then, it haunts.
An intersection for the skilled.
Against the clock, no shortcut taught,
no booklet for the build.

It links, it states - it always waits.
A battle for my will.
This puzzle for my mind unsought,
left open, never stilled.

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April 21, 2004 - A poem about Lust, Technology

a/s/l?

Hey you.
I give good word.
Be my laptop dancer -
make me tilt.

I’m intermittently indeterminate,
anonymously public.
I touch -
type.

What are you wearing?
I’m wearing thin.

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