Just a random poem

[Matt Deckard]

I like modern technology... without it I don't think I could easily survive. Of course I'm sure I could make do in 1935, though Who would want to live without a cell phone or an X-box... so several will say "me, me"... though not I. I like now with a twist of yesterday.

I have an X-Box.

I wrote this poem last year. I was playing Star Wars: Jedi Outcast II at the time.

Like heroin but without the... no wait, it's just like heroin.

Microsoft X-Box
By Matt Deckard

It draws me in with a malevolent glow, this box before me has something to show.
An addiction ensues, insidious can't snooze, it wants me awake and my will starts to lose.

Fighting false foes in a battle with no woes, I can't tear away as the box story flows.
This game has to end, this box is no friend, I can't let it control my day to the end.

I awake in a state, my mind a clean slate, nothing but the story of the game to translate.
Battle after battle the moves become nature, the inside of the game becomes nomenclature.

I pause for some food, the world is so rude, nothing is open but places for crude.
The sun will rise soon and work will ensue, will I be conscious for this afternoon.

Back to the game, this time it's insane, a battle for something that's truly mundane.
When this fight is won, there's no sense of fun, just taxing relief from an addiction begun.

Like a heroin strung addict I stroll into work, eyes bugged hair shrugged, looking like I've been mugged.
The day takes its time, my brain can't unwind, the anticipation of works end weighing on my mind.

I head in the door, it's plugged in on the floor, the box is turned on and ready to roar.
One level to go, the game starts to flow; so tired I'm ready to hit the pillow.

Game over I read as my lips start to recede, the smile of a battle fought without any need.
I sleep silently, no malice in my soul; I reached my goal and it's time to unroll.

 

[Senator Jack]

A Random Haiku

An ambulance white
Men with nets and voices soft
Are you Matt Deckard?​

 

[Matt Deckard]

Can't a guy be random a while once?

 

[Matt Deckard]

An ambulance white
Men with nets and voices soft
Are you Matt Deckard?​

cursed video game....

 

[Twitch]

I have been into PC entertainment titles, no X-box yet, since the beginning and reviewed many for publication. They can be addicting but they are immensely diversionary as well. In a game scenario you control things like you can't always in real life. If you find a really good title you think about tactics and strategy when you are away from home at ilde moments. They can enhance not only yout reactions but the ability to solve problems and think through things. Blasting hell out of video pixel bad guys can be a great reliever of tension so you don't go postal in freeway traffic.

They provide an escape from the harsh realities of the world and many are non-violent like the Sim City genre that require planning to build and use resources wisely in ongoing scenarios ingrained in magnetic impusles that await your next input. They feed your imagination as well as your cognative abilities which certainly can't be bad for mental sharpness.

When we are at the mercy of bosses, budgets and traffic we dominate our little worlds in the boxes. Perhaps for some it is the only thing they have any control over. We chose to play games and run simulations we aren't forced to. Having that choice is better than not having it.

 

[Benny Holiday]

Great poem, Matt

Thanks to Twitch for bringing it back to my attention. I just got PS2 at long last, I've wanted one for a while but could never justify the initial outlay of dough.

So I've got a WW2 fighter pilot game, Star Wars Battlefront, Star Wars Revenge of the Sith, and Jurassic Park: Operation Genesis. So far, I've only had a go at Jurassic Park, and you sure are right matt, those games are very addictive. Three hours vanished on Sunday afternoon while I played mad scientists hatching dinosaurs and digging up fossils, but it sure was fun.

 

[Chanfan]

Heh, I have a skewed view of the Xbox - I did hardware testing on it before it was released. Watching the first 2 minutes of 500 movies several times, for low low pay and annoying working conditions, makes one grumpy.

On the other hand, I know Xbox live will be getting (or has) a fine implementation of Die Seidler von Catan (The Settlers of Catan), which makes me desire one.

 

[Matt Deckard]

Anymore random poems?

 

[Nashoba]

The Prism

Fractured Points of light he called me
Tiny rainbows scattered 'round
Different every time you see me
Not quite belonging to this realm

So complex the world around me
So complex this fractured soul
Each point of light a different aspect
Of what makes this Prism glow

Lark and Wolf in one surrounding
Sparkling, Dancing, Spirit strong
Lady, Vixen, which one am I?
Show me the world where I belong

Different things to different people
I must be everything to everyone
Seeking desperately their approval
To be a lighthouse, their shining one

Save me from myself I beg you
Help me integrate this light
Save me from the darkness coming
Fear is my strength to face the fight

Shining Prism, fractured beauty
Remind me what it's like to feel
Bring me back to my surroundings
Show this splintered soul what's real.

Fractured Points of light he called me
A beautiful Prism shining bright
Hard yet weak this broken beauty
Pieced together through patches of night.

 

[carter]

Warning

"Go gently, for I am not as you perceive.
I am not a thing for hugs and kisses.
I am soft but my teeth are sharp.
I am not easily known.
Be patient.
We may yet be friends."

 

[Dracca]

I like modern technology... without it I don't think I could easily survive. Of course I'm sure I could make do in 1935, though Who would want to live without a cell phone or an X-box... so several will say "me, me"... though not I. I like now with a twist of yesterday.

I have an X-Box.

I wrote this poem last year. I was playing Star Wars: Jedi Outcast II at the time.

Like heroin but without the... no wait, it's just like heroin.

Microsoft X-Box
By Matt Deckard

It draws me in with a malevolent glow, this box before me has something to show.
An addiction ensues, insidious can't snooze, it wants me awake and my will starts to lose.

Fighting false foes in a battle with no woes, I can't tear away as the box story flows.
This game has to end, this box is no friend, I can't let it control my day to the end.

I awake in a state, my mind a clean slate, nothing but the story of the game to translate.
Battle after battle the moves become nature, the inside of the game becomes nomenclature.

I pause for some food, the world is so rude, nothing is open but places for crude.
The sun will rise soon and work will ensue, will I be conscious for this afternoon.

Back to the game, this time it's insane, a battle for something that's truly mundane.
When this fight is won, there's no sense of fun, just taxing relief from an addiction begun.

Like a heroin strung addict I stroll into work, eyes bugged hair shrugged, looking like I've been mugged.
The day takes its time, my brain can't unwind, the anticipation of works end weighing on my mind.

I head in the door, it's plugged in on the floor, the box is turned on and ready to roar.
One level to go, the game starts to flow; so tired I'm ready to hit the pillow.

Game over I read as my lips start to recede, the smile of a battle fought without any need.
I sleep silently, no malice in my soul; I reached my goal and it's time to unroll.

I really like that! Yea, they are addictive...time for me to log on EQ.

 

[Matt Deckard]

Addictive indeed.

 

[TraderRic]

Lost at sea

This is my first real poem. I wrote it yesterday. Sometimes the long days and nights out at sea open doors to the creative subconscious. For some reason this was inside me dieing to get out.



THE WIND by Eric Sisco

I come out of nowhere
and put my arms around you.
I can’t be seen,
but you can feel me and know that I’m true.

I have the power to move mountains
without you even realizing.
I erode all facades
and lay bare the underlying core of being.

I can be a welcome, gentle breeze
that refreshes and soothes.
Or a raging whirlwind
that can tear you limb from limb.

I have the power to electrify
and breathe life into your heart.
I can be dangerous
and tear your soul apart.

Can you feel me?
I’ve always been there.

I am the wind.



Don't take it at face value. The wind is just a metaphore. Do you know what it's really about? Enjoy.

Eric

 

[trettiotals]

This is my first real poem. I wrote it yesterday. Sometimes the long days and nights out at sea open doors to the creative subconscious. For some reason this was inside me dieing to get out.

THE WIND by Eric Sisco

I come out of nowhere
and put my arms around you.
I can’t be seen,
but you can feel me and know that I’m true.

I have the power to move mountains
without you even realizing.
I erode all facades
and lay bare the underlying core of being.

I can be a welcome, gentle breeze
that refreshes and soothes.
Or a raging whirlwind
that can tear you limb from limb.

I have the power to electrify
and breathe life into your heart.
I can be dangerous
and tear your soul apart.

Can you feel me?
I’ve always been there.

I am the wind.

Don't take it at face value. The wind is just a metaphore. Do you know what it's really about? Enjoy.

Eric

I thought a little phrase or two needed to be written in response. I hope I kept with the right metaphor :


You arrived
from where?
The north or the east, I could not tell.
You arrived out of the blue.

You arrived
when?
I wondered where you’d been all this time
(But sometimes I wish you hadn’t)

You stayed
with me
Creating waves until the dawn,
Intensified and unending

You left
why?
Your breathed touch remains
Ephemeral yet everlasting.

 

[skyvue]

I didn't write this poem -- it showed up in my e-mail box.

"Haberdasher" by Baron Wormser
from Subject Matter: Poems
Sarabande Books, 2004

Haberdasher

Over the course of decades style changed:
Your regular Joe stopped wearing hats,
Polished brogues, ties, starched white shirts.
America became casual and drove away

From the store on the corner of First and Main.
Even Sunday faded. Over his after-hours Scotch
The retailer pleaded to his pleated wife:
"What can I do when gentlemen no longer

Are gentlemen? What can I say to a world of rubes?"
Each morning he tied a perfect Windsor knot.
Later, he stared disconsolately out the windows
At the busy cars, brightened when someone came in.
"How could you buy a suit from a stranger?"
He asked himself. Each advertised day replied.

 

[desi_de_lu_lu]

Random Haiku

Frozen Computer
Windows XP Crashed again
No one hears my screams​

 

[John Boyer]

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.

II
I was of three minds,
Like a tree
In which there are three blackbirds.

III
The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.
It was a small part of the pantomime.

IV
A man and a woman
Are one.
A man and a woman and a blackbird
Are one.

Wallace Stevens
From Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird

Rather obviously, there are thirteen stanza's to this poem that are all worth reflecting upon. Although, Wallace Stevens considered them capable of each standing on their own as individual poems.

 

[Ben]

fftopic: I'm confused. The last poetry thread a week or so ago was closed with this message from Hemingway Jones:

The poetry thread isn't really right for the Lounge. Sorry.
We're keeping things at least somewhat vintage related.
Thanks for your understanding.
I am sure there are hundreds of poetry forums out on the Lounge.

Now, this one opens up with an x-box poem by Matt Deckard and keeps going. Can someone clarify what is acceptable and what isn't?

I don't want to open a whole can of worms, or derail this thread, but I don't know where else to take this or who should field this question, since there are bartenders on both sides of this.[huh]

I've learned a lot form this place and tried to contribute in my own small way. But now, I don't feel comfortable posting much of anything. I feel like something strange is going on, and one thing I know is a golden age value is to speak up when something seems amiss. Can the Bartenders do a sticky with guidelines, or maybe a discussion limited to themselves but that we all can see, that clarifies things?

 

[Slim Portly]

A haiku

Disgruntled members
A lack of consistancy
My favorite threads gone

 

[shortbow]

I'm with you Ben. I had the impression that FL was for things vintage.:rage: