(no subject)
this is a poem I wrote for an english assignment. I got a 22/24 on it. Although I don't like the last two stanzas as much as the first two. But please, enjoy.
Braindead
4 o’ clock pm.
The cursor on a blank file in Microsoft Word
Flickers like an ember on a candle wick,
Luring the eye to linger on its spasmodic dance,
One second it’ll hide
As if a wind had made it shush,
The next it’ll show,
Burning bright and bold.
And by the time that I realize a flame
Is not made out of chromatic pixels,
It will already be 5 o’ clock pm.
The word processor hungers for text,
But Stomach hungers for a snack.
It started with a chip,
And then another
And another
Until Throat wanted water.
But Tongue is a picky snob and says
Water drips but does not sizzle,
Water hydrates but does not excite,
Water’s clear and does not dazzle.
Water got the boot and Orange Fanta
Purchased the taste buds
By payment of hiccups.
And when they are finally refunded,
It will already be 6 o’clock pm,
Time for dinner,
yet the word processor is starving.
7 o’clock pm.
I feed the word processor
a lukewarm serving of poetry
in spoonfuls of three words per minute,
and a visit to a blog site
per two.
On a winamp player version 5.08,
Gwen Stefani blares about
being trapped in a box;
and an illegal download hops the border
immigrating to the overpopulated C drive;
The warrior “Norton” wields its system scan
And casts a Trojan horse into cyber-oblivion,
working this machine like a Saharan camel.
But even camels get pissed off.
And at 9 o’clock pm,
It kicked Microsoft in the gut
And charged away leaving only
A faceless blue screen in its wake.
If it had ears,
It would have heard expletives
Ricocheting ferociously through its cochlea.
In the midst of the verbal frenzy,
My epiglottis slipped and a glob of saliva
Invaded the trachea.
I doubled over
As my chest heaved uncontrollably with each cough.
With reddened eyes filled by hot tears
I looked up to see the still blue screen
Mocking me with an invisible smirk.
I hope it had eyes of some sort,
Because it would have seen
a very justified profane hand gesture
stuck in its pixellated blue face
before I fell.
I wonder,
"what time is it now?"