Whomever gave to you the license to drive
Obviously never saw you park.
You ruin the day of drivers and pedestrians sharing this planet with you.
You had better pray to the god of smelly punks that I never find you
after how you made those kids feel.
You saw an opportunity to help those around you
And you didn’t.
You know exactly how it feels to be excluded,
to go without,
You could easily make things better but somehow decide that it is
someone else’s job.
You get to live with that.
This is my first stab at web2.0 poetry, as a followup to the High ASCII post.
> dude, u there? che's 4me.
< y u say? ura n00b!
> 1, che friended, drops invites.
< invites... sure. brb.
> 2, alwys acc, no spam reply.
< still in bud zone there, n00b.
> 3, phone: vm rb, no dnd nvr perma-hold.
< that's btr. ne w/w, follows, links?
> Well, always avail/acc count?
I lightboxed and meta'd.
hrm. it’s a stab at any rate.
Just a little blast from the past here. Some of you were around back in the Hayes Volksmodem and BBS days, and will remember this as well as I do.
FYI – a “wahka” is the decidedly “proper” (by popular vote) name for
the characters “>” and “< ". This is in spite of INFOCUS readers of
Denver who still refer to them as "Norkies". The Michigan crowd
apparently has corrupted the spelling to "waka".
To wit, it is -
"...a poem we think is about the lowly wahka. Maybe. Well,
perhaps---we're really not sure what the poem actually is
about. Here it goes:"
Waka waka bang splat tick tick hash,
Caret at back-tick dollar dollar dash,
Bang splat tick dollar under-score,
Percent splat waka waka number four,
Ampersand right-paren dot dot slash,
Vertical-bar curly-bracket tilde tilde CRASH.
original Leitner page
Fred Bremmer and Steve Kroese
I have been thinking back on this recently and was thinking that some new possibilities are possible nowadays with widespread PC usage, the internet, and all of our new web lingo. I’ll be posting a couple of attempts soon. If any of you want to take a whack, feel free to share.
The blacklight made your smile glow
as we walked though the makeshift tunnel
You asked me how I would know
when you might want or need a hand to hold
I handed you so long ago
a brass key into the new secure dingle
leading through the foundation
You suspected it unsound, un-tough chateau
I suspect that you’d never truly need that hand
Wanting now and then isn’t really so bad
I don’t think your foundaton is so strong either
I do hope, for your own sake, that it really holds.