Submitted by Clayton Medeiros on March 30, 2012
Flying from the northwest to Kauai
Everyone is happy
To escape cold gray skies
Flying from Kauai to the northwest
Everyone is tired and glum
Children are in tears
Parents exasperated
Tans already begin to fade
There’s a reason Eden
Was a tropical paradise
Submitted by Benjamin Gorman on March 29, 2012
Banging anvil sparking steel
yet quenched these words lack mouth appeal
what I'd forge and leave behind
does not endure the trip from mind
to paper, which decays to dust
and all my dreadful heated lust
cannot godlike breathe to life
these words these fragile words so rife
with ego's yearnings, raw desire
so back they go into the fire.
Submitted by Clayton Medeiros on March 28, 2012
I wonder who watches
Late night television ads
That solve all cleaning cutting
Weight loss sexual performance
Problems you may have
And many problems
You never thought of having
Or even knew existed
Almost anything you want
Is carefully priced at 19.95
if you buy it right now
While operators are waiting
At this toll free number
You get two of them
And a complete set of
Specialized knives
That can cut anything
And never need sharpening
It is a commentary
On American culture
When these ads
Are superior to the movie
Interrupted every ten minutes
Submitted by Benjamin Gorman on March 28, 2012
They say geeks in their geekery
started it all, tinkering
with electricity circuits and logic
29 October 1969
The first packet-switched message
heralding in our present age
of communication commerce
the dawn of the internet
History says the geeks were sending "login"
from one ARPA site to another
only L and O made the trip
before a "buffer overrun" ended the missive
Suitably sciency story for posterity.
the truth is far more sinister
The L and the O were for LOVE
a message from one geek to another
A secret Valentine, decidedly unsciency;
and love being an unequationed intruder
the censors (everywhere) cut the message off
V and E knocked off the rails
Entered the electromechanical maelstrom
ricocheted through the heart of
the forebear machine eternally
etching organic illogic on the circuitous traceries
Leaving ell oh to arrow to their goal
half-love spoken in a blue-spark whisper
ell oh a greeting, the better half of love
the progeny machines forever branded with our beautiful dis-ease
Submitted by Clayton Medeiros on March 28, 2012
You need to be careful
Your poem does not overtake
What you have to say
The old saw is true
Form follows function
The poem serves
What must be said
So that it is beautiful
Complete in its own right
Filled with depth complexity
A rhythmic rhetoric understood
By all who read or hear it
Clever yet transparent
With shades of meaning
Awaiting discovery
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