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Steve Green


The Age of Click

Pounding the keys again

Peck..Peck..Peck

Letting life's frustrations
fly off my fingertips
onto the serene screen


Tonight my thoughts
exceed the speed
of my compromised connection

The horror of being frozen out

Locked up by heartless tech

Words now bottle necking
inside my clogged hour glass

Oh to have a paper and pen!

but stolen office supplies
long ago
were all utilized
and never replenished

No need for such relics

Or so I thought
when I purchased
this pricey device

I shake rattle and roll
my accursed hardware

Bad idea

Skull and crossbones appear
on my solid blue screen

Fatal error 

This is the final
proclamation

The red power eye
grows dim

Signaling the end
of our relationship

All my brain wave residue
I had deposited 
on a chip
the size of a gnat
now terminally dead

Gone to that place
in the clouds
where data angels reside 

Time to start over again

as I scour my existence
for parchment and quill pen

Maze Nation

My little bratty
lab rat friends
scurry round
their desperate mazes

All fighting for that
scrap of cheese
they have been
conditioned
to believe in

Oblivious 
to the eyes
in the sky
controlling their
walled in lives

If only they knew
that in the end
it matters not what they do

For the game is rigged

There is no damn cheese

There is only the struggle


Souls Out

Piercing the darkness on a gloomy night    
Weary pilgrims are drawn to the light    

All ye faithful flock to beacon bright
To worship at the alter of this sacred site

Baby Santa lies away in a manger
Swaddled in consumer currency

Surrounded by merry elves and reindeer    
All doing their part for our economy

The doors swing open at midnight
The assembled masses storm in
                
Seeking the salvation this sale brings
Prices so low they seem like a sin
            
The Fallen Angel proclaims to all,  
 “Welcome to my Bargain Nativity!”

“Christmas may be the domain of God,
But Black Friday belongs to me!”

Goody Two Pair

The hollow man of high virtue
Lives his life morally contained

Yearns for a love he can never share
Desires suppressed and restrained

The object of his untapped affection
Forever in his line of sight

Does she share his silent regret?
A prisoner of doing what is right
Picture

Steve Green's profile     

Unabridged Version

The crowd gathers by the river bank
For today’s big televised event

Copters buzz round the scene                
To witness the descent

They’re blowing up the bridge today
That span no longer in demand

A relic from simpler times
When people wanted to be together

Drone Nation

The faithful come together
At the designated place

To get their instructions
From the voice with no face

They do as they are told
Think with one mind

Solid as a rock
And also as blind

Zero Sum Dance

Do what you say
Say what you do

You check on me
I’ll check on you

We can be tight
Pounding the drum    

The beat is relentless
Yet nothing gets done

Thought Police

Wardrobe malfunction!
we just got flashed a nip (gasp!) 

Flat screens are steaming!
Dirty little boys
everywhere
wet dreaming!

Did that hairy degenerate
just drop an F Bomb?
Bleep his murky mouth!
Seven second delay
his gosh darn profanity!

Blood and gore
always may pass
It's taboo body zones
that make us aghast
Slapping fig leaves
over offensive body parts
Censorship too is art 

Gotta protect
innocent kiddies 
from seductive 
video vice

We need to 
bubble wrap them
all 1950's
black and white antiseptic

Enter the Thought Police
Our moral wall of shame
Swatting down themes
they deem obscene

Cultural guardians
Forever offended
Playing gotcha games
like good vigilantes do

Wouldn't it be lovely                                                                        
if just for once
their moral indignation
could be aimed

at the true obscenity
of injustice?

Life on the Median

There comes a time
in every life
we achieve the tranquility
found in that moment
of pure epiphany 

When we finally
accept the reality
we'll never be
a famous celebrity

No autographs

No quote seeking
media dogs

or obsessed
groupie sycophants

Not even
a cheesy TV
retrospective
when we die 

Happiness is accepting
that the ultimate victory
of reality
is survival

Being that
spunky little cog

living
contently

in ordinary anonymity

Comments?

***


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