Tag: poem

Lies

Posted on by Solus One

I was told to be bold
And this is the colour of my hair
I was fed a load of lies
And I always lower my eyes
There is comfort in being cold
Locked away in my little lair
Surrounded by the buzzing of flies
And I always lower my eyes
I believe My heart already sold
That I should live my life without a care
And be happy at goodbyes
And I always lower my eyes
And one day I’ll be old
But I’ll have expensive clothes to wear
And a selection of ties
And I always lower my eyes
So I hitch my rucksack
and pull down on my jacket
And get ready to tell them lies
And I always lower my eyes

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Hackers Suck!

Posted on by Solus One

Why don’t I feel comfortable in front of my computer?
Is it the breakdowns, the stress, or the fear of hackers?
Why don’t I care if this doesn’t suit ya?
Is it the work/life balance or the feeling called love or crackers?
If I could I would suit and boot ya!
All the way to Looney Tunes!!
What is this life if full of care we have no time to sit and stare?
What exposition would convince you that boring is stupid and life is short
What commonplace object? Would you care?
Isn’t design the answer to life’s problems?
Can this be found in an office chair?
So I implore you to see; the design is where I am meant to be!
I would have been pleased to meet you a petrol head
I would have told tails of poisonous women’s’ lips
I would have been less than Schizophrenic
But you had to have it your own way, computer
And this is why we can’t be friends.
So, it looks like I’ll have to work with my enemy, even if it drives me around the bends!

Rebooted in Quatrains

Posted on by Solus One

Sell me the sun dad,
cause i have disowned it
it has driven me mad
and i have really blown it

spell me the dictionary
and the words upon it
Take my desire for ministry
find a grave and dance upon it

Sell me a rebooted dream
of black cofee and cream
of biscuits and cheese
of bended knees

I am not spoiled by the war
Neither took nor brook my luck
All is that you have gone far
and all your son wants is to fuck

The black pond shows nary a ripple
The black pond is my favourite tipple
after whiskey and grass
So take your quatrains and shove them
up your ass.