The Screen

I know that monitor is not just a device,
I know what it means to you,
It’s your social safe space,
The real world was always too bitter,
You met these souls without seeing their faces,
Side by side exploring myriad galaxies,
Across battlefields rendered in digital space,
Amicable rivalries upon podiums that never were,
They were and are real,
They are not mere pixels and handles,
They are friends,
Past and present,
And perhaps future also,
People not profiles,
Place a hand upon the screen,
You can feel their palms against yours.

Fraudster

His monitor accomplice lights up,
Another has fallen for it,
He smirks,
This is a profitable day,
The numbers rise,
Binary and currency,

He is a shady parasite of cybercrime,
His ploy was successful once more,
These marks are putty in his digital hands,
Another gig,
Another scam,
Phishing banditry and hacker hold-ups,

They are cattle,
They do not matter,
They’re just emails and profile faces,
He cares naught for their numbers of years,
Only for the ones and noughts they possess,
The lifeblood in their wallets,

Feelings are left on the keyboard,
Your savings depart into bytes,
As his virtual persona has already fled cackling,
Out of jurisdiction and danger,
He’s a ghost preying on the web,
With his runaway car always at hand.

Creepypasta

Do you crave horror?
Does your heart desire a quickened pace?
To bring the otherworldly to your world?
Then turn the lights down low,
And let me tell you a virtual story my friend,

Did you hear that?

Out there in the cold of the web,
There are urban legends copied and shared ad infinitum,
Tales of woe and suicide and hellish monsters,
Things that should not exist,
Maybe they do and maybe the don’t,

Is that a bit of a chill?

Haunted websites and schools of dead souls,
Freaks with grins just that bit too wide,
Men in masks travelling in tinted window vans,
Forms of spindly limbs stalking you in the woods,
Things that climb in your window and caress your sleeping cheek,

Was that something taking a peek?

These may seem too real for some dispositions,
But don’t fear my dear friend,
These are simply fictions,
They aren’t real,
Right?

There is nothing behind you.

The Likes

The likes,
It’s all about the likes,
An unfathomable habit,
Please like them,
Please like this,
Please like that,
Please like me,

There’s a monkey on my back,
That likes anything and everything,
A dirty injection of blue,
An azure pill on the tongue,
A line of tainted teal powder,
Smoke from a spliff,
In the aspect of a thumbs up,

The world wide web,
It’s my dealer,
Trenchcoat and hat held low,
Robotic mannerisms,
His sales pitch?
“Here, just like and subscribe”,
A demeaning transaction,

I crawl up to it,
Languishing and broken and hungry,
But it offers no sustenance,
No banquet,
Just the likes,
And I still thank it,
I’m addicted to be sure,

Please like this,
Please like that,
Please like me.

Net From The Heavens!

Good day inmates!

A quick little note before my “main event” tonight. Oh yes, I’m posting something new tonight. Something a little different. Something a little political. I finally know when I shall be regaining internet. This is grand news as you can imagine, it feels rather odd never being able to access the internet. I simply can’t wait! I’ll be able to get back to unleashing more regular writings and ramblings as I was before. I will be regaining internet again on the 23rd of September, which is next Tuesday. Glory, I say! I hope to see you all around the asylum soon!

*wink*

Until next time my kindly inmates, have a very crazy day!