Tag Archives: poems about the world wide web

#236: Media Fast, Anyone?


I cannot help it.
I can’t look away.
It’s a train wreck,
a complete cluster,
and every morning
begins with the same

What’s the outrage of the day?

And now that I’m on
a holiday break I’ve got
something like free time
to keep checking in on
the downfall of my

I think I need to stop.

While it might make me
more informed, this incessant
checking of the news, it does
nothing for my present
happiness. I remember a
time, about 16 years ago,
before Facebook was a thing,
when I took a break from watching
the news. I perused the paper
at work so as not to live
completely under a rock,
but I spared myself from
the pictures and the talking
heads and the bullshit
advertisements, and I think,
for awhile, it made me feel
better, smarter even, and
certainly, less anxious.

It might be possible to skip
the stuff that makes me anxious
and only do those social things
that are pleasurable or that
create connection with loved ones,
but even these things, as
necessary as they sometimes feel,
can drive me a little drunk
with dependence.

The power and the influence
of the internet has changed
everything. It’s a bombardment
of the senses and its making
me, I fear, senseless.

So I am entertaining the idea
of a fast with little confidence
that I will be successful at its
implementation. I am thinking.

I am thinking.

And with me, that’s how it always
begins: a desire or a thought,
some words spoken or written,
a visualization in repetition,
and then finally an effort
to make something happen.
What mysterious gifts might
take the place of the ubiquitous web?
How long could I stay away?
What will I miss?  And will it matter?





Filed under Culture, Poetry, Self Reflection

#24: I Love and Hate You, O 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.


Filed under Poetry