Just another way
to frustrate me
Just another way
to irritate me.
Just another way
to make me
realize
how limited I am
how little control
I have over
what I do not know
what I cannot do:
computers
technology
futurity
obscurity
apps?
perhaps.
I'm from another age -
the Age of the Page.
Let me turn the page
and visualize
what cannot be
that has to be
who I am
who I ain't
what I hear (sound in the print)
and don't (silence in the margin)
and the difference between
what's seen and never will be
the Found and
Not Found (Error to Origin)
found this by searching for the error... a nice break from the rabbit hole. :)
futurityobscurity apps? perhaps. I'm from another age - the Age of the Page. Loved your poem. The same problem I feel with this modern generation where people learn C, C++ language before learning basic language. I'm not a critic of technology but because of it's overdevelopment, people are losing basic morality and philosophy of life. (10) +++.
Hmmm. I like this poem. I had to think a moment. The cute couplets and rhythm belied some of the deeper meaning. I like the couplet, What I hear (spun in the print) / What I don't (silence in the margin) .... I'll chew on that for a while...lovely! ..... Silence in the print! My iPhone changed my words yet again... Maybe that could be in your poems! ;)
I'm officially a fan, Frank. Your rhythm is fantastic and your writing is crisp, lighthearted, and witty. Again thank you for writing, and please visit my own page if you will.
This is hilarious and is how all of us feel at times when the system crashes. There must not be any real men running the system there in Paris (at least who can read English) , because they always choose the same poems as poems of the day year after year.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi Frank You obviously got some relief from writing this gem of sarcasm and I got relief by reading it. It's deeply unfortunate that PH cannot adjust its technology or buy new and better machines to solve the problem. Somedays when 3,4 6 or more messages fail to deliver, I feel like bumping my head on a brick wall. Your poem carries just the right tone of sarcasm.