Mouse
running ragged
Kept
wagging its tail
Today
my computer
Crawled
like a snail
What
was the problem
The
puter used to fly
I
searched in help files
This
left me high and dry
Is
the web being slow
Or
was my puter sick
Maybe
it will respond
If
I give it one swift kick
I
attempted writing a poem
Rhyming
as I usually do
Sharing
hearts with friends
Also
friends on my ICQ
Technician
came to rescue
Computer
he had to mend
Missed
weaving my words
Missed
each and every friend
Healthy
computer returned
Compiling
a rhyme soon I click
Here
are a few woven words
My
computer no longer sick
Then
I'll validate my library card,
So
I can research do,
And
dig out the old medical books,
To
check the symptoms of my flu.
Thesaurus
and Rhyming dictionary
Are
in the bottom drawer,
And
messages like "live update",
I'm
learning to ignore.
Can't
look up that new prescription,
That
the doctor has me taking,
Withdrawal
from the internet has me,
Sleepless,
bored and shaking!
My
e-mail is just piling up,
The
worst part of my plight,
I'm
out of touch with all my friends,
My
God, I'll have to write!
It
seems that when a storm comes,
And
lightning fries your modem,
There
should be help available....
Some
kind of 12 step program!
It's
supposed to free your mind, increase potential,
Course
you have to learn to use... That's essential!
Unpacking
it, my suspicions had hit home,
That
all "their" brains looked like this styrofoam,
IT
STILL TAKES POETS,
Even
with it's tutors,
A
good poem can't be written by a computer!
My
hearty computer has memory,
It
also has plenty of Ram,
But
until just recently
it
suffered abundance of "spam"
When
I would check my email,
I
stood to be elated.
Some
30 messages were waiting for me
But,
alas, it was inflated.
Cause
when I looked them over,
I
muttered a mild (?) "Oh, Damn"!
Only
two of them were legitimate,
While
twenty eight were spam.
Then
along came my trusty provider
With
a spam eradicator.
They're
testing it now. (It works just fine)
It's
Earthlink's Spaminator.
Now
when I make my email check,
My
ego's a little deflated.
Though
fewer in number, my emails are real.
No
spam! I'm again elated.
--
Forest of Poetry Trees
http://home.earthlink.net/~sforrest/
The
storage system is called a computer
And
it doesn't always follow commands.
Sometimes
it becomes a downright disputer,
Making
it's own questionable demands.
Either
it's going to learn my language,
Or,
I'm going to have to learn it's.
Or
else, it just might need a bandage
After
it throws some nasty fits.
Why
can't it learn to listen to me?
I'm
the boss--my money bought it!
Which
is the servant and which is free?
My
freedom? Perhaps I just thought it.
Whatever
happens we must understand
That
one of us will have to give.
Most
likely me---obeying it's command
That,
together, peacefully, we might live.
iiiiiiiii
My
computer is really my boss
And
causes me to twist and toss.
I
have to count sheep
Trying
to fall asleep---
When
I wake up, I’m very cross.
Zip - Zoom along the web sites
A key word gets us there
It's all so very easy
To do it with a flair!
A frenzied pace desired
Each day increasing more
Who knows where this will lead us
How much will memory store?
A tranquil scene nostalgic
Often comes to mind
We were our best companions
No need to get on line
It is a fascination
I can not do without
Like millions 'round the country
I’m hooked - there is no doubt
Now - never any question
Dot (.) Com is here to stay
Are we the better for it?
Time will have that say!
Today Computer Heaven!
Tomorrow - Who can tell?
My ISP - Like Family
Dot(.) Com is a soft sell!
Little
arrows from the cache
Heart
and arrows never agree
Deciding
deleting those cupids
Made
a separate folder for me
Zipped
open some memories
Those
letters that still remain
Saved
them on floppy discs
To
read again and again
Delved
mystery and history
Opened
listened audio files
Voices
through my speakers
Across
my face came smiles
Deleted
dated files and folders
Others
I decided to upgrade
My
mouse and I kept busy
On
our computer escapade
Sorting,
saving and deleting
Finally
quick wipe of the screen
Then
heard mouse making noises
Perhaps
now he’s needing a clean
She used to be "scared" of a wee little mouse
Would scream if one ever got in the house.
Now she hugs one night and day
She'd rather cuddle it than stay
On the couch and watch t.v.
Her first love now is her P.C.
She'd like to see it all unfurled
So much to learn in this new world.
She could explore it from her chair
But mostly, she plays solitaire
But that's o.k. she doesn't care
About the weather in Zaire.
Windows were glass she'd wash and look through
Now they are programs to help us all view
The earth and the sea and the beautiful sky
A virus was something from which you could die
Now it's a nuisance that could spoil your day,
But it can be fixed and sent on it's way.
She served her time with diapers and dishes.
Now she can do whatever she wishes
And if that means staying up half the night
To point arrows at icons-that's really alright.
A bit was something you had little of.
Now it takes eight bytes to make the above
It's all so confusing, it makes her head ache.
A byte was something you take from a cake.
She's learning more about it now
Her four year old grandchild showed her how.
Although our paths never crossed
And our lives are miles apart
I'm intrigued by all your charm
And the warmth inside your heart
You're just a name among the list
Like an Angel in disguise
And a picture in a frame
That gave pleasure to my eyes
Computer love at its best
Like a flower in the mist
You give out a certain glow
That my heart could not resist
So if we should ever meet
And our paths somehow connect
I will thank my lucky stars
And the power of the Net
With
my mouse I then sail
With
emails across the sea
We
then connect together
Becoming
friends with me
Travel
daily to each other
Winter,summer,spring
or fall
Then
you type back to me
My
world no longer small
There
we can share hearts
Brighten
each day with mail
Far
horizons , oceans blue
Friendly
mouse do never fail
I
just can' believe it,
No
E. Mail for me today
You
suppose everybody
Just
went away.?
I'm
tired of playing solitaire,
But
there's nothing else to do.
Didn't
even get commercials,
Not
a single one or two.
So
here I sit, all alone
With
both hands in my nap.
While
waiting for some E. Mail,
Guess
I'll take a little nap.
An
independent cuss he is
A
right impertinent upstart
He
likes to see the computer lock
And
make me do a restart.
One
of these days I will get mad
And
naught of him can be seen
For
all that's left of him will be
Mouse
droppings on the screen.
-
- - - - - - - - -
- - - - -
Forest
of Poetry Trees
http://home.earthlink.net/~sforrest/
It's
a workplace and a place to play,
A
counselor, and a guru,
You
can check your meds, or research files,
Find
a recipe for fondue.
It
can help a child with homework,
or
merely babysit.
It's
a
platform for your poetry,
Or
an audience for your wit.
It's
contact with folks in countries,
You
never would have known,
It's
learning of different lifestyles,
You
might or might not condone.
It's
something different to everyone,
But
of this, there is no doubt,
We
agree, our computer is one thing,
We
can no longer do without!
When MAIL says "NO MESSAGE" you try it again
to see if it missed one; it does now and then.
Your phone bill's delivered to you in a box
most likely from checking for E-mail from Fox.
All of your friends have an @ in their name,
with some, you can't tell it's a guy or a dame.
Your head, now you're tilting it sideways to smile.
You're frantic; an issue is not in your file.
You refer to your bathroom in your home abode
as where you are going to do a download.
You better get help and do it damn quick.
I'm telling you pal, I think you are SICK!!!