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Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts

Monday, 21 November 2011

Look At Us Now


As I compile my family tree,
Tapping away on my laptop PC,
I wonder what those, whose names I type,
Would think of life now, and all its hype.

In days of yore the man was provider,
And the Web they knew was spun by a spider.
Morals have changed as well, it is true,
They'd wonder what the world has come to!


These days of glamour and fast cars,
Celebrity, millionaires and scruffy pop-stars.
Televisions with super-size screens,
And almost all thinking being done by machines.

Eighty years ago, who could have known
There would be such a thing as a mobile phone?
And if you'd thought that computers were bad,
There would suddenly emerge the Apple iPad.

And you may as well forget about writing a letter,
As these days emailing is found to be better.
One goes into bookshops, to buy or just look
For a novel to download to one's brand new e-book.


The news reports crime due to family dysfunctions,
Or celebrities taking out super-injunctions.
While we all live with the greenhouse effect,
And the sad loss of manners and general respect.

Technology moves fast and sweeps us along,
But are all of these changes necessarily wrong?
Cures for diseases and a widening of knowledge,
And huge numbers of students at Uni and college.


Answers to questions, which couldn't be solved
Are nowadays nearer to being resolved.
The age of the earth, the planets in space
And the manifest wonders of the human race.

As I compile my family tree,
Tapping away on my laptop PC,
I wonder what those, whose names I type,
Would think of life now, and all its hype.

Sunday, 30 October 2011

An Ode to Network Sites

An Ode To Network Sites in the style of Rabbie Burns
(best read in a broad Scottish accent)

Oh the byspale joys of Facebook and Twitter,
The maist addictive things ohn ma compitter.
Ye mak me smile, ye mak me laugh,
But aince ahm ohn, ah cannae git aff.


 Ah, the bletheration that aboonds,
The bletherskates aa doin their roonds,
They really are a cantie bunch,
Taukin aboot wha they are hawin fir lunch.

Or mibby they're feelin a bit peelie-wallie,
Or they're haein a nicht oot at the ballet.
They post up their photies wi' a peerie wee tag
Fir aithers to "like", or jist tae brag.



Ah should hae been aff here a long while sin
But the clashmaclavers keep drawin me in.
Ma hoose is a midden, the dishes need done,
But time spent netwurkin' is much mair fun.