Category: Poem

Planned Obsolescence

Planned Obsolescence

I will beg the question again,
Will our pots and pans still be here in 10,000 years?
What about our dwellings?
They say they will last,

Will our pots and pans still be here in 10,000 years?
I know our dwellings aren’t;
they say they will last,
100, maybe three. But I give them 30 or 40, maybe 50 years ago, they lasted 100 or three.

I know our dwellings aren’t;
What about our Art?
100, maybe three. But I give them 30 or 40, maybe 50 years ago, they lasted 100 or three.
We are so clever storing them in thousands of places, hoping the love of the work keeps them safe.

What about our Art?
What happens when no one is willing or able to copy them again?
We are so clever storing them in thousands of places, hoping the love of the work keeps them safe.
But if all that metal security that encodes our work brittle away in less than a century, does it matter?

What happens when no one is willing or able to copy them again?
Oh, and about that metal security, how easily do we throw them away or replace them?
But if all that metal security that encodes our work brittle away in less than a century, does it matter?
The only thing they will leave behind is poisons and scars from less than 2 or 3 years of use.

Oh, and about that metal security, how easily do we throw them away or replace them?
We pride ourselves on our way of life, from our tablets to our phones, our computers, and even our lightbulbs.
The only thing they will leave behind is poisons and scars from less than 2 or 3 years of use.
No grand works for us, no pyramids, no cave arts, no broken pots and daggers.

We pride ourselves on our way of life, from our tablets to our phones, our computers, and even our lightbulbs.
The segment will only remember the corpses and poisons we use to build them.
No grand works for us, no pyramids, no cave arts, no broken pots and daggers.
No one will know of our grand works in 10,000 years.

The segment will only remember the corpses and poisons we use to build them.
I hope we will build something that last 10,000 years,
No one will know of our grand works in 10,000 years,
Sadly, few others dream of building something that will last 10,000 years.

Our sea to lake

Oh! Our master of thy winter palace returns.
WE exile him to that, our Xanadu.
That Mar a Lago
Our sea to lake.

For he brought carnage and plague to our shores.
Such as, he promised,
Such as, we crowned
But we were ingenuous folks,
We are ingenuous folks.

SO, we depose of him
and crowned a decrepit Emperor
He was a stately figure.
Raise in our lionize courts.

For he brought order but war to our world.
Such as, he promised,
Such as, we crowned
But we were hungry citizens
We are hungry citizens.

Yes, the Emperor’s heirs sought only our power,
and the winter exile promises his, ours, retribution.

The Emperor’s heirs pleads-
to continue thy restoration.
The winter exile demands-
our destruction and glory.

So we decided, think of what may, but we chose,
in all we are ingenuous folks, hungry citizens.

Oh! Our master of thy winter palace returns.
WE exile him to that, our Xanadu.
That Mar a Lago
Our sea to lake.

The Lie of Authoritarianism.

“Ain’t you a sad one, but I don’t see why. Have I been so beguiling?  Your life is excellent! Don’t I protect you from thy feculent?  Where is your grand revolutionary enthrallment?  Remember, you came to me with your spirit exquisite! Now that our work is finished, you whine about my temperament! You whine about the cruelty of our settlement! You whine that we are maleficent…”

“No… It’s not that I whine; it’s that you lie! You lie like a guiling. You’re benevolent?  Oh, I dare you to say that to those we prejudiced! Remember, those bodies we spread in a grand decadent! That is where thy exquisite spirit went in your embezzlement. Let this be my regal testament…”

“No… you can’t preach to me about a lie. You dreamed that awing guiling.  We’re benevolent!  I will voice that; we saved those hurt and prejudiced! Remember, the time we lived in before our decadent. You’ll give our lives away for your spiritual embezzlement? That is a terrible testament…”

“Aren’t you an angry one, I see why. I have been so beguiling.  Our life wasn’t excellent.  I dreamt to run away thy feculent.  You’re naïvely caught in thy revolutionary enthrallment. Now that I’ve woken to the spirit of that ghost, exquisite! You’re remaining to recall that poisonous temperament. Force safeguards this unprotectable settlement. Thus, we became a maleficent…”

Rage & Glory

For glory, a passion that led to a Machine God.

For misery, a gap that stirs the mortal down man.

For rage, a tale that for legend lives and never ends.

Friends, guise onwards, and perceive a great planet awed.

Friends, be saddened that an era has ended; it ran.  

Friends, behold forward to the following works of God.

Brothers, now are the time of revolution and fraud.

Brothers, do not hesitate, for we have a great plan.

Brothers, pocket all hoarded for a time nigh its ends.

Sisters, let’s witness that concluding striking ballade.

Sisters, let’s prepare to forge a family and clan.

Sisters, let’s labor and dose those grand flames by will, God.

Machines, you who yet know men, are amazingly flawed.

Machines, you will stride that route mankind has not outran.

Machines, you will be our gloom that our path never ends.

Champions, for rage, your myth goes on, countless maraud.

Champions, for glory, you will transform a fine span.

For glory, a passion that led to a Machine God.

For rage, a tale that for legend lives and never ends.

By MID

Peccadillos Debate

You know, I feel like people always disregard Peccadillos.

I don’t blame them, it’s a sunny day, and life is great,

but at times Peccadillos is vital!

There is a good deal you can do for Peccadillos.

We as morally upright people need to consider one thing.

We Need to Protect the Majestic Peccadillos!     

A slight offense. A mere petty misdeed.

Stop, these statements about Peccadillos.

We know where these ideas lead, they are planning to…

 ban, Peccadillos hunting, the famous time honor tradition.

My family has hunted, pests for generations.

Why here and now do they squawk and whimper…

“We Need to Protect the Majestic Peccadillos”?

My friends don’t mistake me for a crazy Peccadillos hunter.

My friends, they have agenda! I ask you Is it yours?

A slight offense. A mere petty misdeed.

So, we are again, I should add talking about Peccadillos.

I know how it went last time and the time before that.

I’m just surprised; we have not killed ourselves

 Over the damn pest. I swear am not antipecca.

But you must have heard about the bombing. And it is getting worse

I’m just saying enough is enough. Am I crazy?

A slight offense. A mere petty misdeed.

The Storm Doc’s Guests

Out of that hall in that stormy prelude.
Came a vast man cover in Jewels.
Holding a cane, likeness of shrewd.
Standing on a hill in front of the school.
He grabs that great cane with both knuckles;
then he proceeds to strike doubles,
Each strike to the ground causes a huge shock.
The sound causes all the land to caulk.
All of the folk move from their nest.
They all gather in front of that new Doc.
And he spoke with grand vigor and mirth to all of his guests,
“Come gather for a storm of magnitude,
In the halls where workers pile their tools.
We will cook a glorious stewed,
As we watch the storm frenzy from our stools.
Will light an inferno and snuggles,
each lighting raid, there be guggles.
While will tell stories and become a flock.
Do not disregard to bring your smock,
Never know when Storm comes to rests.
It will be an event for all the block.
So, the terrific storm is coming near, gather my guests. “
As we watch the storm there is a grand mood,
The night is great, and our eyes are pools,
And the hall’s full of stacks of food.
As the storm rage, appears a group of fools,
The jesters are performing juggles.
The raging storm took our struggles.
Then the storytellers begin to talk,
and all we could manage is to gawk.
Oh, this stunning night is the best.
Sadly, our host lift his great cane and knock.
He shouts, “The storm is over and it’s time to leave my guests”

We left that great hall; felt that disquietude.
For no stormy night could be as cools.
It’s a saddening and dull mood.
It’s sunny outside but we walk as ghouls.
 For the storm is gone thus we struggles.
We recall all of our troubles,
But we are of a strong and sturdy stalk,
For no great storm can sojourn our walk.
All folk here is jammed with grand zest,
To go on to see the end of the clock.
That cane hit soil, one last time by our host to farewell his guests.

Our homes are where this tale comes to conclude.
For Storm is gone but we will weave spools,
For all that snoop with their ears glued.
For those folks who can’t stop the endless drools.
For one’s that takes magic by smuggles.
For all of us lowly muggles,
Let’s meet in a tale told with winged-hawk.
For those who hear, magically rock.
For we are the ones that are test,
By the storm and thus is forever lock,
In that hall, with that man, with that cane, for we are his guests!

A Storm Doc came from an epilogue hall, cover in a smock.
His skin is a dark brown and he is holding a cane that thwack.
Under his smock, he had a jewel cover vest.
Every step he takes causes a shock.
For he is looking for his guests.

By M.I.D

Let’s go and catch a magical cat.

Let’s go and catch a magical cat. In the back of the house. The one with a big mouth full of a rat, Come, and go and grab the nets! anime

Let’s go and catch a magical cat.

In the back of the house.

The one with a big mouth full of rat,

Come, and go and grab the nets!

There is no schedule discarded prat.

It might hide by turning invisible.

So, when you see it, hit with that bat,

Or there might never be a mouse.

We need to catch that magical cat.

By MID

Stupid Inquiry

The last question is, how can I grow? …Answer, please, what about my plight! Stupid, that wasn’t an inquiry. The streetlamp flows, the sun has the right, and no, to your plea.

Where did the nocturnal stars go?
The streetlamp flows.

Oh, why does the day sky shine bright?
Sun has the right.

Can I ask four questions not three?
No, to your plea.

Last question is how can I grow?
…Answer, please, what about my plight!
Stupid, that wasn’t an inquiry.
The streetlamp flows, sun has the right, and no, to your plea.

Fable of Mar the Smart and Ignas the Brash

Once upon a time, a fellow with heart, Met a dragon who was brash. On a solitary ground, without awaiting clash.

What does it mean to be smart?
If one cannot wholly convey the heart.
Lunge into these squabbles of the mind and soul that clash.
Let it be acknowledged that we are brash.
We are buffoon with a zeal.
For we do not dread the great facts that will be reveal.

The facts that will be reveal,
Will make shrewd man doubt whether they are smart.
So, let us commence to tell a fable with great zeal.
Once upon a time, a fellow with heart,
Met a dragon who was brash.
On a solitary ground, without awaiting clash.

The land shakes from that clash.
Legends are still told of what was reveal.
On that day, the mighty dragon’s named Ignas the Brash,
Humble by a man known as Mar the Smart.
It greatly saddens our heart;
But this superb tale will not in with this lesser zeal.

Lesser men would end their zeal,
Disregarding bonds that forge in the clash.
Recounting only how old Mar took the dragon heart.
We are not lesser men we will reveal,
The true soul of Mar the Smart.
On that day, a drake met a man, a saga yet brash.

You know of Ignas the brash.
Gather your audacity and your zeal.
If your idiocy gets in his way, move! That is smart.
Hold nations will vanish when the drake clash.
He has no fear to reveal.
Thy say he is a splendid beast born without a heart.

Mar, confirm he has a heart.
Oh…oh, do not forget Ignas the Brash.
Why did Mar sob when slaying Ignas needs to be reveal?
The dismal tears haunt us; it takes our zeal.
So do not speak of the clash.
For we must understand the soul of old Mar the Smart.

So, you recognize our untruths to reveal the heart.
Oh… oh, Forgive us smart chap! We are brash.
Are zeal. Will endlessly clash.

By MID