My Computer Doesn't Make Me Wonder Woman
Every day I tell myself there’s work that I must do,
but I go to one of my social sites and my mind goes all
There are messages and comments I really must address,
but please note I’m not organized, my files are a mess.
Family and friends are a priority; I pray they’ll
however, dump me when
they seem ignored, owed a reprimand?
It’s no one’s’ fault but my own, it’s all so fascinating,
nevertheless, I can’t do it all and may deserve a berating.
My intentions are always good you see, but Wonder Woman I’m
Nevertheless cutting back has been useless, curiosity is my
Forgive me if I’m not speedy, good manners were taught in my home,
except they never dealt with all of the embellishments
aiming at my dome.
You see I’m the generation who had to dial the telephone, my
cell I do abhor.
I have come to realize you can get anything you need
without using the door.
Unless you like fresh air, lunch out with a friend and
gardens in full bloom,
life could get dreadfully boring, depending on a machine
might bring doom.
So I’m telling my computer, that we’ve gotten way to close,
I want to see a show.
It is a valuable resource, incredibly useful no doubt, bar
the fact it doesn’t hug,
However, it’s been an amazing journey to meet people all
over the universe.
It’s opened my eyes to much information, so don’t allow this
to seem terse.
There’s an amazing world in this machine, it saves more time
excluding the time I should be cleaning the house, but I don’t
mind that cost.
I’ve decided not to worry about the things I can’t control,
when I say I want a cleaning person for Christmas, it would rid me of this strife
Susan Johnston Owen 10/26/2014 ©2014
They said her words are antiquated,
in this electronic world unappreciated.
Unable to deal with the abbreviated,
to her the language was being amputated.
Thoughts and theories once joyously narrated,
were turning into senseless lines now dislocated.
Fearing we may become indoctrinated,
with talk weak spirited, completely unmerited.
Is this the age of jeopardized knowledge,
forfeited language haplessly ravaged?
Hence shall we fear the departure of coveted terms,
apparently blistered with contracted speech?
Watch the patrons in public places,
has their ability to speak been erased?
They appear engrossed in little electronics,
has verbal communication been expelled?
Have we become accustomed to these gadgets
which appear to be stealing face to face interaction?
Once merited for inspirational thoughts contributed,
shall the fate of riveting stories flounder and banish?
Accustomed to the way we once communicated,
will knowledge be tarnished with new equipment,
or enlighten the world with a hungered speed?
Unprofessed, untendered, passing on a wearied thought,
that may just pull the plug on LOL.
Just thinking "What if?"
Susan Johnston Owen ©2014
caught the light,
bring music to light.
Little by little
I bring you close
holding my mouth
to your cold lip,
many years keeping
music in my grip.
One finger at a time,
across your body flows.
Playing you gently
to hear a lone tone,
or feed you air lightly
emits a sweet tune?
You are a friend
connected to me,
keeping the key.
I finger you one way
you giggle and run;
push you another
deep feelings are spun
My lips control the
sounds you will make,
fingers the music, tone.
Tonight feeling joyful
anxious to see how much
of a dance you can do.
Fingers fly deftly
release lovely songs.
That's just a warm up
to what you can do,
I'll make you sing
out with joyous glee.
Giving your sweet love,
that no human will share
you bring me music,
I give you life,
together we break the day's din...
Susan Johnston Owen