You were once the source of my dreams
The one for whom my love screamed
That short romantic time we did share
When together, nothing else seemed to care
A forgotten picture of you while asleep
Painful reminder to love that ran deep
Renewed thoughts of what you meant to me
That until now was becoming a fading memory
Putting away that faded photograph
I’m not sure whether to cry or laugh
It’s not likely we will ever again meet
Unless by chance, on fortune’s street
It’s not a surprising inevitability the blogosphere is increasingly being utilized as a platform for ‘get rich quick’ schemes to proliferate but, the question that need be asked: Does the motivation to attract ‘followers’ stem from the desire to present quality, original material or, simply to add to a list of others amongst whom, are those willing to participate in a pyramid scheme to make fast money?
The basic formula to these schemes is to create a blog site that will convince others; by creating a blog site to attract others to join for a modest fee, subsequently shared up the pyramid-shaped totem of affiliates. Given the countless numbers the Internet can reach daily, each new fresh set of eyes presents a real opportunity to make significant dollar amounts by convincing a fraction of them to join the scheme.
No one can fault anyone for desiring to make fast, easy wealth by doing something they are already doing but, as with any pyramid scheme, the greater wealth goes to those above at the expense of those below and secondly, the blogosphere becomes inundated and consumed by meaningless tripe and ultimately diminishes the potential and experience of the tool.
Oh, by the way, since you read to this point can I interest you in……
this day denotes the chance to fool
to cause suffering by mental duel
some think it unnecessarily cruel
well others laugh as they drool
from whence this act did un-spool
a date in history not taught in school
but ideal place to play out it’s rule
be warned before you end it being the mule
the only living desire
is, by words, to inspire
for this, I am no liar
for never, do I tire
to light the mental fire
to conjure before I retire
images to take my reader higher
in order we may mutually conspire
to share, as moments transpire
the winds of change,
by wit, some lay claim,
bring for some, providence to fame
to others, a wrath to disdain
regardless, it does remain,
the human spirit can sustain
challenge; by the winds of change.
Words written for the mind to eject
Motivated by reading or even a tv set
Posted with nothing to lose or bet
Not being noticed is a chance threat
Countered by the ‘Like’ it will get
Leaving nothing to regret
Save for a conscientious reader to vet
Viewing old pictures of my brother next to me
He appears the more masculine in nature
The difference is not hard to see
This quirk of genetic unfolding
A hidden clue for differences to our journey path
He the wiser chosen; accomplishments all showing
I the sufferer, to all life’s potential wrath
This is not a sobbing tale of sibling rivalry
Nor a sorrowful cry of `oh wow-is-me’
But a case for simple human discovery
Of genetic unfolding of one’s life to be
The title of this piece is as reflective of my present state of mind as it is of the graphic imagery:
it’s a sunny day but a cold wind blows
the kind of day it normally snows
though Spring season is formally here
by all accounts this fact has not been made clear
the seemingly endless months of winter’s norm
renders the mind grey as a raging storm
pointless seems the need from bed to arise
especially when snow-flakes float before your waking eyes
woh’s me; want away from this infused-winter gloom
endless back and forth strides in my living room
if this spring-summer’s warmth fails to soon arrive
It’s not sure how much longer this life’s place – I will abide!
prisoner to this world of literary creation
word-smith to constructs of elation
though accolades are a deflation
feedback commentary give indication
if want is for self-immolation
or search for alternate vocation
both a source of much consternation
yielding less pleasure than masturbation
thus rendering this poem to nullification
naykdpoet 