In the morning mirror
the face I see,
it could be someone else's
It could be me.
Another wrinkle here,
a little more gray there
and hair on top that no longer wants to stay
It's not mortality I fear,
but staring at old age
and it's cruel face
scares the living crap out me
In the mirror
The face I see
will someday fade --
to a place
where I never existed.
My heart flutters
like bats flying out of a cave
I see you, but you don't see me
I wouldn't know what to say
Too shy to approach
I'm crushing on you
and you don't even know
Is it a Brave New World?
Well, it's not "New" really.
Considering the Earth is 4.54 billion years old
I wasn't around way back then, so how do I know?
If fact, I don't, but scientists say so.
I met a guy the other day who said the earth is 6,000 years old.
There are a whole bunch of these people who believe this way
Hmmm..... 4.54 billion versus 6,000 years
I was never good in math but I can detect there's a difference here --
Oh, about 4.54 billion years..
Not that long ago, at around the year 0 or so, someone wrote a book.
Actually, a bunch of dudes wrote this book
And it's a good thing Jesus did come along or we wouldn't know what year it is today.
More importantly though, this Good Book explains everything:
Why there is heaven and hell,
How women came from a rib,
Why it's Adam an Even instead of Adam an Steve.
We are taught what to think.
"I believe what I believe," he said, "The truth."
"Oh," I said.
Is it a Brave New World?
Well, it's really not all that "Brave" either
Hiding behind our computer screens, drones to the dirty work
Still settling affairs by who has the biggest gun.
Defending the rich,
exploiting the poor,
placating the people, all keep the ball rolling.
A dangerous world is a profitable one...
And hiding behind computer screens
those collecting data to sell you whatever they can
"Growth of the sake of growth this the philosophy of the cancer cell"
While our hiding behind our computer screens
instead of getting to know one another
We stand our ground against one another
and cower to authority
We are not so much Brave as we are stupid.
Our destroying the planet
It's a Brave New World?
No, not really
It's just the same old world
But with a hell of a lot more people on it.
Once were like a innocent babes, sucking on our mother's tit in the Garden of Eden
Now we are more like vampires sucking the blood out of our Mother's neck.
Is it a Brave New World?
Certainly not "Brave."
We have made a prison
and submissively pay the guards around us.
Awakened, I feel alive
thoughts of impermanence
(Tokyo, Oct. 20, 2013)
Let's just not stop there
Shutdown those Teabag assholes
who are still living like today were yesterday
Shutdown the lobbyists
and corporate special interests
interested in profits for themselves....
who aren't the least interested in you or me
Shutdown the NRA and their gun maker friends
and get the guns off our streets.
Fuck them, and their GMO food so we can safely eat
Oh, and while they are at it....
Shutdown that fat faced Rush Limbaugh, too
Shutdown FOX news for spreading verbal shit.
Shutdown drone attacks
that drop terror on civilians from the sky
Shutdown factories of making missiles
So there might be some peace
Even those poor bearded bastards deserve their day in court.
Shutdown Wall Street
until they can learn to lend responsibly
Shutdown the Washington bickering
Shutdown all the negativity
Shutdown until you
Shutdown until you ready to get things done.
Nobody listened to me back then really, ears closed shut tight
At least now I know it’s me not making a sound that brings ignorance
And I’m sorry about blaming you and My Mother’s regular slights
Upon your character, stained and worn, but to my death of no relevance
I can see you thinking of me, that is how it works here, thought sight
It was my choice to dance with icy clawed dragons in squats damp
Yes I know I told you where you’d end up, well I’m here first alright?
So I was wrong, but that don’t make you right as you write by your lamp
Stop feeling so worried, I mean twenty five years is a heavy walk with that weight
Strapped to your shoulders, by yourself in the main, maybe a little dad there too
But I’m talking now, through the mist of years and doing my best to set things straight
To change the memories of guilt laden doubt, I’m whispering right at you
Remember the pub where we’d smear our faces with plant pot dirt to get in?
That guy on the bus, you slapped his head, he screamed “I’ve shot better men than you!”
How about the smile that scorched across your face when Molly said you looked thin
Or that time we got hammered on mushrooms and cider and thought we’d discovered the truth
Every cut, every scratch, every cigarette burn a waste of time I don’t have
To be fair it seems selfish, I mean you’ve got air, flowers and girls in skirts
Oh yeah and there ain’t no devil, so breathe easier and maybe even laugh
And there ain’t no god, so you were right there, man that hurts
I’m laughing, don’t worry, even breezes tell jokes, you think I’d change much?
Never mate, not for a second, although I’ve somehow forgot what a second is
And minutes could be years for I know and years, yeah yeah and such and such
So, don’t write anymore, I think you’re about healed and I’m still dead, it’s the laughter I miss.
Icicles of caution spread across his mental firmament
He saw stars everywhere
From bars, cars, gutters, behind shutters
He mutters something only he can hear
His birthday looms in his mind like vacant rooms
In a broken motel on the far side of sadness
And what he perceives as rational is only a madness
At least that is what the distant voices tell
And he knows he is unwell and under a spell
Or a curse from some otherworldly power
And each minute is an hour
As he dreams of a shower
Of blood cleansing him once and for ever
He told himself never would they be together
That he would always be mithered
By the rotten fish guts inside her
If only he could cut away his hair
That would stop the demon eyed stare
Following him since teenage despair
He begs to rewind his film
To turn down the kiln
Of his skull that fires his fucking brain
His pores bleed Christian shame
He screams out her name
But a cut throat usually impairs the hearing.
Every Moment I Love You
we have never met
Like waiting for the rain
It's coming, but no time is set
The clouds roll by
A full moon drips
On a bastard world
But there is life to be lived yet
eyes to be opened
Hearts to be won
rivers to be crossed
Poems to be sung
Every Moment I Love You
Language gets in the way
Birds can't talk to dogs
Yet I understand every word you don't say
Nothing is new, not anymore
every leaf falling, brown and down
Every Moment I Love You
I miss the snow
The slow winter dinners
looneys singing hymns
You'll not catch me
talking to ghosts
your brothers grow
your mother knows
things she'll never tell
there are places I have been
dark things I've seen
That I swear to hide and protect you from
Every Moment I Love You
Light a cigarette and a bus appears
Buy a dress to bring the time near
An eternity of golden rings
are not even a sparkle of your value
yet there is no price on our heads
and the doors that seal in the dread
phantoms crawling through late night beds
will be eclipsed when the sun greets your face
Every Moment I Love You
My past has greater length than my future
Sounds mystical, arseholes, you’re gonna die soon
Crystals and stones, hazy cosmic interference
I put them in my pipe and smoke, rocks rock
Time trapped between blades of grass
The rain drops bleeding my future into the past
Oh solitude, my death, Jacques Brel
Fucking hell, read that book, don’t look cool with it
Glasses on, no lenses, she’s 20/20, Fashion the passion
She didn’t need to be nailed on any cross to be cool
And the Mexicans wave in football grounds
The EDL are back in town
And what goes up must come down
Turn that frown around
Align your chakras, enhance your chi
He did karate for discipline
But he could snap a goose neck with one punch
El hombre invislbe stood out like a spare prick at a wedding
God told me to do it and he lives in a room
The size of old Mother Hubbard’s cupboard
And I don’t care how you say tomato
I never liked the beatles, nor maharishi yogi mcchicken
Or whatever his name is
Two bullets, facing Hitler, Stalin and Mussolinin
Shoot yourself twice to make certain
Mystics, you gotta love mystics
Same as rules and clichés
Plus gods and demons and don’t forget popes
And queens and soaps on ropes
Oh those new isotopes discovered
In the backside of Jack’s new lover
The halcyon days of hadron colliders
I like my eggs fried not smashed
Elvis brought back to life for one last show
At Glastonbury no less!
King Arthur on guitar, Jesus on bass
And of course the devil still beats the drums
All that is loved, drifts in and out
Ghosts never solid enough to hold
Syllables trapped at the root of my mouth
Bedsheets clean, hospital shining and cold
Modernity allows fleeting contact
Voices through the electronic air
Conversations alone, uncomfortably abstract
Oh how I wish I was there
Old songs remind me of the concrete
That dries forever inside my skull
As the grey lace misery appears complete
A silver bird, in a photograph, a seagull
Oh to climb upon it's honeycomb back
And entreat it to fly across memories sea
Travel to your rooms and peak through a crack
In the door to your world where love covers me
We stood and saw the phantom face in the bush
Fascinated, it's mouth surely moving, terrified to look
Everyday we hugged in front of the window
Gazing at the ghost bush way below
It stared back, at all of us.
I stare alone at the bush, its lips no longer moving
It seems to stare right past me, silent, uncaring
It doesn't notice the loneliness of watching alone
It doesn't recognize the space in this home
It stares back at me, only.
You asked me why I linger on
In this island kingdom
Now that there's no more reason to stay -
The light has flickered out
And the whispered promises faded away
Like the distant mountain stream
That failed to reach the sea.
And yet and yet I linger on - what for?
You press on and on
Your youthful eyes meet mine, weary and worn -
A virtual desert to you
An oasis for me -
A world I carved
With glossy dreams
And falling petals floating
In quiet streams.
You ventured far
To that vast ancestral land
And found anew a part of what's in you
And rejoiced in that discovery.
Pouring your dynamic creativity
Into every corner of your awakened world,
They honored you and lauded your works in their great halls -
You found a place, a space you colored all
With vivid images from your keen artistic soul.
Oh, what if, what if
The light had lingered on -
And the springs flowed on and reached their goal -
Would you, would you have stayed
Or is that proud and far-off land
Away from these misty isles
The rightful home to bring to fruition
The breadth and depth and height
Of all you aspire to achieve and to hold
Beyond my transient world
On stilts and gossamer wings...?
My senses have decidedly become dulled
The causes many:
daily bombardment of information
too little good news….
I can always blame time for my mood
I've grown accustomed
to dire warnings,
doom and gloom prophecies.
And in the mirror, things I don't want to see.
Indeed, things are changing
some for the better
some for the worse
but they are all --
they are all bigger than me
Helplessly alone in this sea
How long can I tread water here?
Do I try to swim away?
Knowing in time… only a matter of time
when the last wave swallows me
As far as I know,
there is no lifesaver
there is no lifeboat
Tonight you are here... better than a dream
soothing my living soul
A young man is killed walking home from the store
Candy and iced tea in hand
Confronted by an armed citizen
His mind is made up: This fucking punk is up to no good.
Gun in holster - a modern-day John Wayne
So a life is taken,
And the shooter walks away
What of Trayvon's life?
Life is cheap that way.
Children's bodies blown apart on the classroom floor
Just babies really, ages 7 or less
along with 6 teachers dead after the massacre
The scene to gruesome to be shown on TV
Gunned down by a lunatic
armed with an AK-15 and no reason why
But in no time at all, the outcry for gun control fades…
fades away and dies....
Everyday, shootings in cities across the nation
News flash fireworks of homicide
the leading cause of death among young black males
Victims of a racism - a system that never seems to die
Where amid urban decay life is cheap
For faces that no one seems to care about
Violence and abuse against women
sexual harassment, domestic violence, sexual assault, and rape
Not only by strangers,
more often by people that they already know.
The gender receiving less respect.
These women left with physical and emotional pain.
Looking over one's shoulder….
going to and from the store
becomes a way of life
Convinced that it a dangerous world, and only getting worse...
The answer is people arming themselves to the teeth
to protect life and treasure
Because life is cheap
These days, I have hardy anything to say
No words of wisdom
No witty rhyme
No clever verse
I could describe images
the wonders of nature
shining stars, roaring rivers, magnificent trees
Bright happy sunflowers
swaying in a gentle summer’s breeze
But what for?
On the internet, you can see all of the these
and so much more
I could write about a lost love
The girl who broke my heart
The one who got away
But I hate to look back
All it does is make me sad.
I could write how life is all just luck and chance
I could write about Good versus Bad
I could write about Love
but what the hell do I know about love
or anything else for that matter anyway?
I could write about God
The guy up above
Who is looking down
The maker of all
The savior of our souls
Bit I don’t believe in this bullshit anyway
I’m not delusional
I could write about freedom
The shouting of freedom from the rooftops....someday
Don't make me laugh
You are free so long as you stay —
so long as you stay between the lines
And the road is getting narrower
and narrower .... every day
I could write about war and peace
But didn’t somebody already write this anyway?
If I had wings, I would fly away
but I don’t,
so here I walk
here I stand
here I am
I could write about life’s meaningless existence
or perhaps compare life to Chinese water torture
drip, drip drip
or how to cope with life’s pain
blur it with booze and pills
needles and razors
But think we’ve all heard this kind of crap before
I could write about tragedy
I could write about hope
So I paint on a stupid smile
while my heart beats
bump-bump, bump-bump. bump-bump
80 beats per minute so so
the years go by
as I grow old.
Well, I have nothing to say
nothing to write
not even a simple Zen
I hate this expression
it sounds like they gave up their parking space
They are gone
rotting in ground
And no one gave it much thought
It seems to me:
India is trying to catch China
China is trying to catch the United States
The United States is trying to catch its own tail.
Why worry about global warming?
So far, this global warming thing has been pretty anti-climatic.
I mean, have you personally seen polar bears washing up on the beach?
I didn't think so.
Monsanto, Walmart, Exxon and all others the likes of you
Let's ruin the world.
I want the American Dream
a big house, a lot of stuff, and a gun to protect it.
The news on TV - wars and terrorism
They don't believe in the same things as you and me.
Support the troops - Are you shitting me?
Capitalism - growth for the sake of growth is the philosophy of the cancer cell.
Go Wall Street go!
Aren't they a bunch of responsible individuals?
Raping the bank accounts of whoever so they can make their billions.
We want to "good ol' days" back!
I remember in college when my friend Bill Finance swallowed five handfuls Taster's Choice freeze-dried before taking a final exams and puking 15 minutes later.
I remember when Jerry Magnuson chugged a bottle of ketchup with a shot of vodka in it
I remember when Bill Nally drank the bong water
I remember the thrill of coming as soon as I got it in.
We want to return to the glory days muscle cars
We want to go back to Mayberry
But we can't
It's time to rip out that rear view mirror
and concentrate on the road ahead
But why look ahead?
Why fix this mess?
After all, the 21st century is a lie.
It's only a date on the Gregorian calendar.
2000 years after the birth of Jesus
It takes faith....
Bald old men wearing red beanies and dresses blowing white smoke
for 1.5 billion followers
...And in the other corner.... wearing beards and praying five times a day,
with white turbans, with enough intelligence to build a bomb
and still believing in 72 virgins in heaven!
Fucking stupid men!
with enough intelligence putting a man on the moon 44 years ago, now contemplating going to Mars
People with enough intelligence to clone an sheep and call it Dolly
Astrophysicists and cosmologists theorize the beginning of the universe, quantum mechanics and string theory.
But people need to believe in something....
believe in something more than their car's airbags
We want to believe in this timeless omnipresent invisible being.
Someone or Something we can identify with.
Someone or Something close to but greater than us.
We want to believe in our own eternity.
We can't face up to the facts.
Meanwhile, this place is getting more fucked up each day.
A 360-degree blue sky beach day
Not a cloud or trouble to be found
The sun high and hot
Soaking into her bronze-tanned body
"You still look fabulous in a bikini," I said
My sincere compliment was returned with her beaming smile.
We walked lightly across the hot sand
Towards the restless water's edge
Gazing out at endless tide
Hearing to the sounds of the crashing waves
Taking in the unique smell of the sea
Some seagulls squawked and circled about
She carried the blanket
I manned the heavy cooler
We made our way down to the cool wet sand
There were countless smooth stones
and shells of all kinds to examine
The waves lapped our toes
Turing left, we walked along the beach
Spying a point in distance
Sometimes eyeing each other
"Keep going," I said.
Occasionally looking back at our footprints
Observing how far we've come together
Finally, we reached a secluded spot of our choice
Far away from the bright-colored beach umbrellas, beach chairs, noisy kids, and blaring radios.
We were now as alone as we could be on a beach day
We knew what we were there to do --
Or at least I knew what I wanted.
By this time we were already hot and sweaty
Spreading out the blanket created the mood
Like being swept away on a deserted island
We settled in on our oasis
All of your senses are heightened at the beach
The sense of sight, touch and smell.
Everything tastes better - anticipation rising
I love it wet,
A nice pink color
A little sticky
Eat and wash your face at the same time
Watermelon is amazing
When I first saw you
I couldn't take my eyes off of you.
You shined, behind the glass
So far off....
I felt like a barefoot desert wanderer
afraid of mirages,
I gazed upon you
I watched you from afar
staring at your beauty and style
I had to hold you - to have you
Vowing to do whatever it took.
Dreaming of being inside you
Having you would be worth any effort
You - beyond my current means
I pushed on - you were my quest
Building up my courage to one day approach you
But to have you, it would take overtime
I was like a mountain climber - unstoppable
Who's obsession is to reach the peak
And, I remember that night
The night I took you home for the very first time
Your touch, your smooth skin
I loved your smell, the way your tongue felt
Finally the time came
the way you loosened and tightened
Oh, how I love my new shoes.
Fear lies, she lays down to face another fearful untruth
She doesn’t love him
She tells herself this
Daily, while crying and begging him not to leave.
The curtains twitch on the opposite side of the street
The neighbours aren’t nosy
They tell themselves this
As they watch beady eyed the man opposite leave
Again and again, like an awful refrain in a song that all hate
Somewhere over the rainbow…
He loves her, he really does, passionately, definitely
He has love
He tells himself this
As he reaches into his hidden pocket for the money for the whore
She loves her job, loves her customers, loves what she does
She works happily
She tells herself this
As the bruises settle and the penicillin clears the rash
It’s the cash
Somewhere over the rainbow…
god is good, god is life the priest weeps with purity
as he drinks the blood
He tells god this
and pisses over the innocence of children
A lifetime of guilt, raped by a higher power
Not a higher self
Wishing to be someone else
He can’t watch children's TV anymore
The church roof needs fixing
Somewhere over the rainbow…
Telling ourselves things we do not believe.
He was a wolf man, howling at his glorious reflection
Refusing to bow, confused at the rejection
He suffered because he ate hearts and livers, raw and coppery
And the fear filled victims eyes trapped in his animosity
He began to enjoy being alone, like the bulb hypnotized moth
His eyes glorious and amazed, his mouth a viral, bloody froth
Then he saw her, calming like moonlight strewn across a lake
A voice like a bell, her perfume left burning eyes in its wake
He was sensitive to her, animal sense, he wanted to change
His preternatural heart beat begging for a life rearranged
He wanted to enjoy TV dinners, tired of the rawness of flesh
Wanted every ounce of his freedom crushed, until only she was left
To collide in him, show pride in him, deride him and be his guide
To take the beast by its crimson wild heart and unveil a different side
Of life he’d not yet encountered, where he had a love replacing lust
Where choices were bestowed and the beast would turn to dust
Wolf man scribbled his first words, painfully illegible, but so liquid clear
In blood and guts and the dark ink of the heart, so pure in its fear
Love me, say you do or at least that you can
So that the flowers may bloom, fragrant and comforting
And my sleep will be a dream filled glorious span
So the dark shadows in the corners will not come creeping
I told them the moon would crack
The crowd growled a hideous laugh
The sea came home, swallowed them whole
My turn to laugh, the moon and its crack laughed back
The dead have tales to tell
But no mouths to speak
The ears of the weak
Miss the words of the past
As the waves crash upon their heads
Trapped in Mishima's mask
Confessing nothing, focused on the task
Of talking to oneself
The truth buried on a cheap shelf
In a cheap room of a poor house
The dead voices calling someone else
Unheard, "come to us, the earth's warm"
Devoid of love as they are devoid of form
There are no record players in hell
And everyone wears tracksuits waiting the ringing bell
"Run boys run! The future is behind you!"
And they do what dogs do
Run blindly after the tasteless stick of life
Forgetting what it was really like
A child stepping barefooted in shit in the park
And the dead still moan from their corner dark
Telling me who they're waiting for.
to into Heaven
wants to go today
to be Free
but we can't even get in a drive a car
without wearing a seat belt
What you mean?
Everyone wants to Love
and be loved
by someone else
once in a while
I can’t do this any more. Not even for you. Not even for the McDonald’s Happy Meal you buy me after we have sex every Saturday afternoon. Do you know I only eat the cookies? Do you know that I drop the fries down the holes in the sink? I drop them one by one. Not two by two like Noah’s animals. On their own. Solitary. Lone. Loaning your copy of The Waste Land to anyone who will take it. You tell me to stick to Ovid. I tell you to proof-read Prufrock and draft a new ending for us. You kiss me and still, behind your back, I drop each fry down the sink. When you make love to me you watch your reflection in my dilated pupils. And when you shower I rummage through your sock drawer. Exposing your secrets to the world. Reading the contents of your ark of the covenant. You read to me. From Moby Dick. Always Moby Dick, never Pinocchio or Peter Pan. I try to tell you that I prefer Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. But you hush me. It is your silence. And who am I to break it? I’m not anyone. I am occasionally Emily Dickinson. But the difference is that I can dance on my toes. Life is ‘full as opera'. I think about asking you but it’s late and my toes have gone to sleep between your ankles. In the jade night I can almost believe you love me.
I chanced to espy
The ever-flowing winding river
Beside the ancient shrine of Iriso
I recall my fateful fascination
As if a spell was cast on me
By spirits that dwelled therein.
A voiceless call it was
To clasp my hands
As if in inevitable prayer
To the deities sheltered there -
And then to grasp
The dangling rope
To sound the gong
Of conclusive stance
And receive respite from griefs and wants.
Decades on beyond Iriso
I chanced to espy
The ever-winding narrowing river
Beside which a glistening cathedral tree,
The Ginkgo biloba, blazed its galactic glory
Shrouding all that once graced the riverbank.
A sudden call it was
A great awakening
As the mind unfurled its unintentional stream
Of lived moments of frolic and swirling mounds
Of glorious ginkgo foliage at Chikozan -
Where once you beckoned me
To come surrender all
To the locked charms of touch and thrill --
A benediction of union and joy fulfill
Like the fan-shaped leaf,
A union of twin spheres --
A brief reminder of life's golden hues as I grieve
Each passing fall and fallen leaves.
I thought I'd weigh in on suicide bombers as they regularly seem to be in the news. I really don't get all this religious stuff: Christians, Moslems and Jews. God may be great, if you look at Him that way, but religion shouldn't be anything to lose your head over, as many people do.
Don't get me wrong about suicide bombers, I appreciate their enthusiasm for what they do. Though a short-lived vocation -- a poor career choice. Supposedly at the end of life there is a place called Heaven. Located up there . . . somewhere . . . beyond the visible darkness we see at night -- a place beyond the infinite universe. And if it's that Paradise you believe that you'll go by blowing up market full of people, you are deluding yourself. Believing that Heaven exists is one thing, but really there is really isn't any proof. Another real possibility is all this God stuff could just be a man-made hoax. And as for the 37 virgins promised, virgins may not be great as what they are cracked up to be. I mean, after all, after a suicide bomber explodes he can't take along that shoehorn he put in his vest.
I've been lost and found, and lost too many times to count. In my case, instead of having a life-goal of someday becoming successful suicide bomber, as a boy, I wanted to become an archer, but was never good. My teacher said "be the the arrow, straight and true." But I was bent. Beside, I felt arrows were just being used. My teacher said, "Be the bow." But I saw bows too bent on their own power. This is more for Olympians, politician and corporate CEOs. Finally. my teacher said, "Face it Joe, you, like the vast majority, are the target. One time, I shot an arrow straight up into the air, it came down so close -- had it come down in my head, I would have been dead. From that time on, I consider myself lucky, not bright.
I thought I'd weigh in on suicide bombers as they regularly seem to be in the news. We in the West condemn them for blowing themselves up with supposedly the innocent to make their point. Well, maybe there are no saints. Maybe, we are all just sinners here. We all become what is around us. But if I may let me make a plea: "Dear suicide bomber, everyone is brainwashed. Please let us each reach natural death rinse cycle and enjoy our short life. We are all equal in the end.
I thought I'd weigh in on suicide bombers as they regularly seem to be in the news. Why would God want a suicide bomber as a neighbor? Would you? God maybe forgiving and all but he does have final judgement especially who he wants to live next to. With all the assholes in this world, it would seems that heaven would be a very lonely place.
Saw an old street, cobbled, Conan Doylish
Wife talking to cruel man in a hat bigger than my dreams
Its width unfathomable
He has a gun, wants to use it
Feel its heat, like a cock
Gloves on, sweaty rabbit fur
I never wake up
This isn't a third grade horror story
It does not feel like a dream
The dead smiling
The street winding a pathway to the dark
I scream, possibly
The silence swims, scream swallowed
The pillow unwelcome in its featheriness
Shoot, fucking shoot
The wait is killing me
I'm up to my neck in social networks
My face on Facebook
I Twitter and Tweet like a parakeet
I have a space on MySpace
I'm Linked in
Posting what I had for lunch
and photos of my cat
Clicking "Like" for a picture of your dog taking a nap
So many Facebook friends, it's hard to keep track of
You poke me
so I poke back
LOL and I'm Laugh My Ass Off at poking possibilities
I'm surfing the World Wide Web
I'm searching for what matters on the Internet
browsing with Safari, Firefox and Outlook Express
Google search, Yahoo, and YouTube too
Wikipedia, like God, knows everything
On the Net, I found out Einstein wasn't all that bright
Because watching porn, time goes by at the speed of light
But the 5 seconds it takes to wait to "Skip This Ad" feels like eternity
Now that's Relatively
How times have changed!
I used to read books
I used to do drugs
Now I'm taking trips on the Internet
I've farmed in Farmville and fought in Mafia Wars
I've traveled the world using Google maps
Instagram - posting photos with bad effects
Tumblr - standing, I haven't fallen yet
Pinterest - content that bores me to death
Bing isn't my thing
Chrome ain't my home
And Google Plus somehow just doesn't add up
I recently read how YouTube, Twitter and Facebook are teaming up
to create an super-mega social network