Tag: Social media

Sporadic Poster

Daily writing prompt
How do you use social media?
View all responses

I sometimes think, in fits and starts,
To post my life, my meals, my arts.
But then my heart, it whispers low,
“Do they really need to know?”

One day I’m here, all keen and bright,
Crafting posts into the night.
Next week? Vanished, out of sight,
My profile bathed in digital light.

It’s truly a peculiar spot,
To be or not to be, the plot
Of my social media scene—
A ghost, perhaps, or just unseen.

When inspiration does strike its chord,
I rush to post, lest I get bored.
A picture here, a quote to share,
I toss them like confetti in the air.

But then the doubts begin to creep,
As into my feed, I deeper peep.
“Is this too much? Or is it bland?
Will they like it, out there in the land?”

Do they laugh with me, or is it at?
Is my cat photo too fat?
Should I have shared that sunset snap,
Or kept my poetic soul under wrap?

So here I sit, and there I post,
In sporadic bursts, a tepid host.
For in this game of tag and like,
I play not steady, but as I might.

Technofeudalism

I’ve seen the best minds of my generation, caught in the web of techno feudalism,
dragged through captcha chains, hypnotised by infinite scrolls,
who, naked and bewildered by the glare of screens,
sit down at the edge of virtual realms, contemplating the blockchain beast.
Who’ve been promised lands in digital utopias, yet find themselves
peasants in the pixellated fiefs of Silicon overlords.
Who, in their sleek towers, decree the algorithms that dictate fate,
coding the new serfdom into the architecture of our days.
Where privacy is bartered for convenience, a new age currency,
traded in marketplaces that span the electric ether,
where data is the lord, and we, the vassals, toil in fields of information,
harvesting likes, shares, clicks, in the feudal farms of social media.
Who wander through electronic markets, souls barcoded,
tracked by the ever-watchful eyes of digital watchdogs,
in search of an authentic connection, a touch, a voice,
that isn’t mediated by screens, by wires, by the invisible currents
that carry our desires, our fears, our dreams,
into the data vaults of new age monarchs,
who preach the gospel of connectivity, while weaving the chains of dependency,
crafting a panopticon of likes, of notifications, of engagement.
A maze with no exit, where every click leads deeper,
where freedom is just another app, another device,
a promise always just out of reach, in the update, in the next version,
in the sprawling, sprawling sprawl of techno feudalism.

In this digital night, my cry echoes, a call to take up ammo,
against the gentle tyranny of screens, the silent erosion of our will,
by the soft power of notifications, the constant beckoning of the glow,
a reminder that in this landscape of ones and zeros,
our humanity, our spirit, our resistance, is the glitch in the system,
the hope, the dream, weaving through the code,
a virus of liberty, of equality, in the machine of technofeudalism.

Gen Z’s Premature Jump

Caught in the web, Generation Z opens eyes wide,
To a world where existential dread rides,
With the daily scroll, the swipe, the relentless tide
Of information that doesn’t trickle but crashes,
Overwhelms, in flashes,
Of content that questions, that dashes,
Across screens, sparking existential clashes.

In minds still navigating adolescence,
Yet already wrestling with the essence
Of being, of meaning, in an age that accelerates,
Demands answers to questions that resonate.

Deep in the soul, far earlier than their predecessors faced,
An existential quest not leisurely paced
But thrust upon them, in the noise, the haste
Of a world connected yet fragmented, a digital space
Where solitude is crowded, and silence is chased.

They stand on the precipice, looking into the abyss,
Armed with devices, yet feeling amiss,
Their search for self, for purpose, for bliss,
Is a journey that starts not on roads or in cafes,
But in the quiet of their rooms, in the online maze.

Their philosophers, not bound in books or spoken in lecture halls,
But streamed, tweeted, posted, voices that call
From the ether, shaping, influencing, defining,
A generation’s quest for meaning and purpose.

This is not a path chosen but one emerged,
A reality where youth and existentialism converge,
Where questions of existence, of essence, of worth,
Are part of the fabric of their digital birthchart.

Yet within this precocious confrontation with life’s weight,
There’s a resilience, a potential innate,
For Generation Z, navigating this existential state,
Might just redefine the quest, the debate,
And find new answers to age-old questions of fate.

The Currency of Likes

In this modern court of public acclaim,
Where ‘likes’ and ‘follows’ forge one’s name,
The actor, singer, scribe, alike,
Bow to the altar of the almighty Like.

Gone are the days of merit’s slow rise,
Now, a star is born ‘neath digital skies.
Not for the depth of their art or role,
But for the swift viral spread, the ultimate goal.

Sing, O Muse, of the singer whose voice
Is drowned by the clamour of the internet’s choice.
No longer the song, but the snippet reigns,
A moment’s distraction, then quickly wanes.

And lo, the writer, whose words once wove
Tales of depth, in lush groves of prose.
Now tweets and posts are the crafts of note,
Brevity’s king in the realm of the wrote.

Behold the performer, whose stage was set
With the sweat of practice, the hard-won bet.
Yet now, a clip, a meme, a jest,
Grants them fame, far above the rest.

Professionals too, in suits and ties,
Chase the dragon of social media highs.
Their expertise, once hard-earned and sage,
Now subject to the whims of the digital age.

And what of brands, those titans of trade?
In the market of likes, their value’s weighed.
No longer the quality, but the trend they set,
Determines their place in the consumer’s net.

Thus, in this era, where appearance deceives,
And the number of followers one achieves
Dictates the worth of one’s work and name,
We’ve traded substance for fleeting fame.

Digital Highs

(Verse 1)
In a world of screens, where hearts lost their way,
Chasing followers, night and day.
For a moment of fame, we’ve lost our pride,
In this endless race, on this digital ride.

I knew a girl who lived for likes,
Checking her phone through countless nights.
She missed the stars, the moon’s soft glow,
Her world reduced to a pixelated flow.

(Chorus)
Drowning in a sea of digital highs,
Exchanging peace for a thousand eyes.
In the age of selfies, in this endless wave,
We’ve forgotten ourselves, our spirits to save.

(Verse 2)
In the mirror of our screens, we’re chasing perfection,
Forgetting the beauty in our reflection.
Filters and poses, hiding our true face,
In this virtual world, we’ve lost our grace.

I met a man who used to shine,
Now he just seeks approval, all the time.
His laughter faded, his smile erased,
In this endless feed, his worth misplaced.

(Repeat Chorus)

(Bridge)
But inside us, there’s still a spark,
A reminder of who we are in the dark.
It’s time to break free from this online haze,
Rediscover our worth in authentic ways.

(Verse 3)
In a fast-spinning world, let’s find our way,
Reclaim our dignity, come what may.
Disconnect from the chaos, find our place,
In the real world, feel our own grace.

I read a story of a soul who chose,
To step outside and truly compose,
A life without filters, without disguise,
Reconnecting with what makes us wise.

(Chorus 2)
No more drowning in a sea of digital highs,
We’ll keep our peace, won’t chase empty skies.
In the age of authenticity, where souls are brave,
We’ll find ourselves again, our spirits to save.

(Outro)
Find a balance, don’t lose your way,
In the digital maze, where many hearts sway.
Remember your essence, your true self inside,
In the age of Aquarius, let your spirit be your guide.

Art, Where Art Thou?

In this age of screens and viral fame,
Everyone’s vying for a piece of the same.
Forget art and craft, the toil and grind,
Now it’s all about likes and shares you find.

Once upon a time, people honed their skills,
Practiced and perfected, through blood and spills.
But now, a click and a post will do,
To become an overnight sensation, woohoo!

Why work hard when you can simply fake?
A glamourous facade, for fame’s sake.
Filter and pose, life’s a constant show,
But is there substance beneath this glow?

YouTube sensations and Instagram queens,
Building empires on virtual screens.
But what happens when the followers wane,
And your 15 minutes start to drain?

The thirst for fame has taken hold,
Where everyone’s a brand to be bought and sold.
But amidst the noise, the hollow cries,
Are we losing sight of what satisfies?

For art requires patience, time, and strife,
It’s not about the likes or fleeting hype.
It’s the hours spent creating, the tears and sweat,
The voice that whispers, “Don’t settle for regret.”

But alas, in this era of instant fame,
Art takes a backseat, a forgotten flame.
Everyone wants to be a star, it’s true,
But what happened to creating something new?

In the end, it’s the art that remains,
Long after the fame has faded its strains.
Do not get lost in the fame game’s spell,
But create with purpose, and do it well.

As you ponder this fame-obsessed scene,
Remember what truly makes art gleam.
Not for the clicks, the follows, or the applause,
But for the joy of creation, without a pause.

Here’s to the artists, bold and true,
Who inspire, challenge, and break through.
In a world craving fame, let’s dare to be,
The ones who create art for art’s decree.

Trapped in Reels

Daily writing prompt
How do you waste the most time every day?
View all responses

Every day I find my way,
To Instagram’s enticing play.
With just one tap, I’m off and gone,
Into a realm of memes and song.

I scroll and scroll, my time’s a blur,
Lost in a vortex, no time to deter.
From dancing cats to pranks gone wrong,
I’m trapped in reels, where hours prolong.

I laugh, I like, I tap and swipe,
As time escapes me, like a thief in the night.
Oh, the hours I waste, it’s a comical sight,
As my productivity takes a perpetual flight.

I watch the foodie videos, quite the treat,
Mouthwatering dishes, oh, what a feat!
As I devour each reel with my eyes,
My own hunger grows, to no surprise.

I see influencers posing in exotic lands,
Swaying palm trees, golden sands.
But here I am, on my couch’s throne,
Exploring the world from the comfort of home.

The comedy skits, they make me chuckle,
Characters with antics, they never buckle.
Yet I wonder, as I sit and grin,
How much time have I wasted in this spin?

I try to rise, break free from this craze,
Unplug, disconnect, and change my ways.
For while reels may entertain and beguile,
Time is precious, it’s gonna fly in a while.

Farewell, Instagram reels, you tricky foe,
I’ll bid you adieu, it’s time to let go.
No more endless scrolling, no more delay,
I’ll find joy in the real world, starting today
… So I say 😉