Tag Archives: poem about the internet

#125: This Is Not A Poem

url

This is not a poem, but a message.
This is not a poem, but an explanation.
This is not a poem, but a note
to say that,
this is not a poem, and that I have not
eaten any plums, but rather,
this is not a poem, and I will be off-line
tomorrow, so there will be no posting
of poetry for the 26th day of
National Poetry Writing Month.
This is not a poem, but a promise that
even though I will not be posting a poem
tomorrow, I will nevertheless write a poem,
using a pencil, perhaps, or a pen,
or a quill, and I will compose said poem
on the technology most people refer to
as paper.
This is not a poem, but a promise
that on Sunday, when I return from
my hiatus off-line, I will post
two poems in one day, the poem
I pen on paper on Saturday,
and the poem I compose Sunday
upon my return.
This is not a poem.
Forgive me.  It was sweet
and so easy to write.

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#24: I Love and Hate You, O Internet

future-internet

Because I could not find inspiration in today’s prompt from NaPoWriMo (a challenge to make an anagram poem from my name), I submit the following instead.  This is an animal called an apostrophe.  An apostrophe is a figure of speech that addresses an audience that cannot respond, either because it is a dead person, a faraway person, a bunch of people, an animal, or a thing.  Poets have been known to stretch out this particular figure of speech over an entire poem. Here is my apostrophe love/hate letter to the Mighty Interwebs:

I Love and Hate You, O Internet

O Internet,
I both love and hate you.
I love you because you have
made it possible for me
to cancel cable
and I hate you
because high speed internet
is more expensive than it should be
and all of that money goes
to the cable company.
I love you because
you give me any piece
of information I desire
for a few key strokes
followed by an emphatic
return.  I hate you for the rabbit
hole experience–the labyrinthine
loss of hours that the rabbit hole sometimes entails.
I hate you for free porn and
think you are changing the brains
of young men, not in a good way.
I hate you for your insecurities,
for your spam and your viruses,
for your predatory users,
for your ready use by corporations
as a weapon of influence against hapless
potential consumers.
Most everything I desire of late
is perhaps something I saw
or heard about or read about
in your infinite webs, and
I hate you for that.
And I love you for it, too,
because that’s where I found
my pants, my coat,
the bike of my dreams,
my new favorite band.
You bitch. You angel.
I cannot help but think
I would be a better man without you.
Go away.  Don’t go.
I hate you.  I love you.
I love you.  I hate you.

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