Memory Buffer Full

There isn’t half some rubbish
goes flowing through my mind
If a doctor could examine it
I wonder what she’d find?
I really wish I could channel it,
try to make things better
Or even sit upon a chair
and write my Mum a letter

The taps are always open
it’s like an endless flow
everything get’s washed away
and my ideas never grow
I tried hard to stop and meditate,
like that Buddha fellow
But I didn’t reach Nirvana
and it only made me mellow

Technology isn’t helping
my message box is full
I’m gonna change my identity
and go and live in Hull
Or maybe California
where they say the living is easy
or up a’top a mountain
where the wind is nice and breezy

That at least would clear my head
and help me concentrate
But then I’d miss those little chats
and coffee with my mate
Perhaps I need some time to think
and clear my mental bin
Then with all that space I make,
I could fit more rubbish in

Peter Roe
All Rights Reserved

Is It Too Late To Be Writing Poetry?

I’m tired and I just can’t stop yawning
It’s stupid o’clock in the bloody morning

We will just have to wait and see
If it’s too late to be writing poetry?

I really need some divine intervention
perhaps an elixir of lyrical inspiration

I drifted and snoozed and finally slumped
and only woke when my head got bumped!

Perhaps a surgeon would do instead
To remove this keyboard from my head

The Worlds Gone Digital But My Mum’s Still Analog

We have entered a new age of digital information

That demands our time and unlimited interaction

Our smartphones with all their chirping and squawking

Have us clicking and ticking and tweeting and talking

Our personal information, our words and our thoughts

Are sent through technology as ones and as noughts

And our social calendar is not defined any more

By an impromptu, but analog, knock on the door

The world may had gone and caught the digital bug

But my arms are still analog and my Mum needs a hug

T’was The Night Before Christmas…

It was the Night Before Christmas and with the click of my mouse
I had turned off the lights throughout our wired house
We don’t have a chimney so in case someone cares
The kids had hung stockings on the backs of their chairs
They’d gone upstairs early and rushed off to their beds
To dream of tablets and consoles which spun in their heads

And Mother in her Pyjamas and I stuffed in mine
Had demolished the mince pies and drunk all the wine
We were in bed watching the telly and having a natter
When out in the garden there came such a clatter
The lights were switched off so I took a swift glance
Through a crack in the curtains to see whats askance

There in the moonlight in the middle of the lawn
Sat a fellow in a red suit looking lost and forlorn
He seemed to have dropped something he was groping around
And he was trying to retrieve it without making a sound
After fumbling and stumbling he located his sack
And he swung it quite high and over his back

Now the garden was dark and it was getting quite late
and I’d locked all the doors and padlocked the back gate
So I wasn’t quite sure how this round fellow in red
Had landed in our garden and got me out of bed
So I put on my slippers with the holes in the toe
And descended the stairs to confront whats below

I unlocked the back door with some trepidation
And went outside to the poor fellows consternation
He was rounded and chubby and stretched out his suit
And he had this red hat and a white beard to boot…
He was most apologetic and “I’m Sorry” he said
he was embarrassed, his cheeks were quite red

I said “Don’t worry old fellow we will sort you out”
So I unlocked the gate so I could let the chap out
then up the side passage I showed him the way
But stopped in my tracks when I bumped into a sleigh
I suddenly realised this was no drunken lout
But the real St Nick who was out and about

He spoke to the reindeer gave reassurance and chat
Then straightened his suit and re-seated his hat
Then Saint Nick came up and said “I’m not sure…
why my Fat-Nav brought me to your back door.”
I said “Its probably the software on your particular device
or it could be electronic caused by the snow and the ice…”

It was clearly apparent from the Fat-Navs display
That its outdated software had caused this delay
I updated all his software using our wire less device
And made sure his antenna was free of snow and from ice
He climbed gratefully on board his updated sleigh
and shouted “Donner and Blitzen… Up up and away..”

and as he flew over Bridport and away out of sight
He said “Merry Christmas to all and Blessed Good Night!”

Peter Roe
All Rights Reserved
December 2016

The Digital Frontier – Bullshit Two Point Zero

We get our news in headlines and trending quotes
Despotic Tyrants hack computers to sway our votes
Egomaniacs trump their worth from their ivory towers
Politicians line their pockets with money that is ours
Whilst the fat cat bankers and the Global Corporation
Ruin our economies and sell our personal information

It seems the Arab Spring has sprung and broken
And Twits and Tweets though loud and outspoken
Have failed to cast an illuminating light
On the refugees and their desperate plight

But we all did our bit, clicked and ticked and joined a group
That added our opinion and thoughts to the digital soup
So is technology backing a new wave of Cyber-Activation?
Is this really People Power… or just Human Corporatisation?

Peter Roe
December 2016
All Rights Reserved