One Hundred Poems, Volume II, Page 2

  #GamerGate and Women in Video Games?

  You know what,

  I do not wish to hear a but,

  I want equality in triple A shooters,

  In those games we play on our computers,

  Especially with the ones about future warfare,

  I want those games to take equality further.

  So I ask women to be treated just as the men are,

  Not to be put on a pedestal but on the same bar;

  Simply shot, maimed, burned, and killed in abandon,

  For their lives to be wasted by reasons at best random,

  And if you protest that women cannot be portrayed like that,

  Then you better present some real arguments out of your hat,

  Because as far as I know; women are able to walk and run about,

  To fire a gun and follow given orders without a single doubt,

  And above all posses the bravery to fight in defence of their nation.

  Especially when the addition to games is not much of an adaptation,

  Just use the stock models and reduce about 10% in both width and height,

  Add a knot of hair under the helmet and a porcelain chin and you got it right,

  Then you just need to edit the grunts and groans to be merely a pitch or two higher,

  And turn your protagonist silent so plot works regardless of the player's gender,

  Others in game could refer the player by names like Morgan, Tracy or Jackie,

  It works because we all look the same under military equipment and khaki.

  Or do you just prefer to maintain the current inequality of genders,

  To depict men as nothing more than lambs waiting for slaughter?

  Please do not be blind to how the nature of war has changed,

  To the fact how all of our weapons have become ranged.

  How fate is not decided by the strength of the shield arm,

  But by a finger on the trigger holding a storm of arms.

  How the horrors of battlefields are at our doors,

  How cities are where we fight our wars.

  Duck and cover from strafe,

  None of us is truly safe.

  CHAPPiE

  I liked it,

  With its grit,

  A little awkward,

  But it goes forward,

  With a beat and chorus,

  Best described as phorous,

  It is a mirror of our failure,

  A testament of human nature,

  Our greed and tendency for lies,

  And how we just close our eyes,

  It is also where the critics failed,

  Their ability of empathy bailed,

  Scared away by foreign culture,

  Oddities of this little adventure,

  Of our number one gangster,

  Heart fated for disaster,

  And how the smallest thing,

  Could always change everything.

  Garnet

  I finally understood you,

  When I saw the two of you,

  How your strength is love,

  It is what you are made of,

  How you are stronger together,

  More than sum of your character,

  And nothing will set you apart,

  As nothing can cut your heart,

  Who you are is one of two,

  And garnet is your hue.

  Poetry is a sounding board

  As poems are brief and short,

  They can be put to test in court,

  To see if they can stand on their own,

  As putting more flesh will never turn to bone.

  So if four lines of rhyme lies beyond,

  There is no hope for a magic wand,

  Whisking four hundred thousand,

  Words as solid as a real diamond.

  Poetry is a chance to try and fail,

  An opportunity you should not bail,

  To hone your ideas for others to hear,

  Before the ideas simply flee and disappear.

  Poetry has a sharper edge than any knife,

  Poetry is the sounding board of life,

  If you long for verbal crimes,

  You must master all rhymes.

  Thus a gangster of literature,

  Must learn to handle the mixture,

  The skill to chains all words together,

  More tighter than leather under any weather.

  Break up poem

  My love, my love,

  I guess I appear okay, sort of.

  I see your smile,

  But I am not worthwhile.

  When I look at you,

  I have to face what is true.

  I am no more than a burden,

  Useless weight you could unburden.

  I guess this is the end, then,

  As I am not even worth the ink of this pen.

  I know I love you,

  But I am not worthy of you.

  It may take time but it is okay,

  You deserve someone who knows the way.

  Good bye.

  Parenting?

  There is a crack in the glass,

  How it shines like brass,

  A result of your sass.

  You do as you may,

  You have nothing to say,

  You have to find a way to pay.

  So grounded and more chores,

  No slamming any doors,

  Time for you to mop the floors.

  Old love

  A night of wild dancing,

  Yet another late evening,

  Drinks and stars so bright,

  With my brave old knight,

  No need for glass shoes,

  No quests to find whose,

  You already found me,

  Proposed under a tree,

  I think it once grew here,

  Those moments we endear,

  My love; can you tell me a lie,

  How I am beautiful in your eye?

  We will own this sky

  Look up and tell me what you see,

  Some clouds and we all agree,

  There is nothing but clouds,

  Water formed into shrouds,

  But what if there was more,

  Something else for us in store,

  Just picture it inside your minds,

  A huge vessel of cloth guided by winds,

  How it could float ever onwards,

  How it would plunge the world forwards,

  Can you taste the future it brings,

  All the possibilities it springs,

  Our feet not bound to soil,

  A result for what we toil,

  Can you imagine us rising,

  Beyond mere acts of disposing,

  How one day we could own that sky?

  21.03.2015

  It is another sunny day,

  I wonder what is coming in our way.

  Such a lovely blue sky,

  Yet somehow the tensions run high.

  I sit alone in this room,

  And I do not know what to assume.

  Will this moment last,

  Or is it calm before horrors amassed.

  Curse this uncertainty,

  Yet I wish fears never turn to certainty.

  This moment of peace,

  How I hope that it shall never cease.

  Gaming and microtransactions

  A game of microtransactions,

  Where time limits your actions,

  A game barely even a distraction,

  Where you face constant exaction,

  Chip in cash for instant satisfaction,

  Or not but bear boredom of inaction,

  No cost to download is the attraction,

  How it become the defining abstraction.

  Feminism is our modern swastika

  The women in Western world once had real issues,

  And to fix them all became the defining mission,

  So long and hard did they fight for their rights,
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  As they had set a better society in their sights,

  And guess what; they won almost every fight,

  They won until a point where they could alight.

  Equality and prosperity regardless of gender was reached for us all,

  But sadly there was one battlefield where they experienced a fall,

  The youth grew up believing injustices that had never held true,

  Generations with nothing but propaganda as what they knew,

  And as we humans long to correct all injustices we perceive,

  A new generations set their sights on fixes already achieved.

  I cannot blame them for wanting to make the world a better place,

  But I do for ignoring facts to save their own face from disgrace,

  But I do blame them for current policies both unjust and unfair,

  How the feminists of today drive for inequality as men's share,

  How they base their accusations on nothing but outright lies,

  How they have planted the very seeds for their own demise.

  I know how factual feminists still fight for equality,

  How they stand against men’s growing inequality,

  How they use reason instead of doctrine feeble,

  How they argue with facts instead of foul libel,

  But in my eyes it does not change the sad fact,

  Something once good was ruined and sacked.

  Thousands of years and barely a single decade,

  Hundreds of years and barely a single decade,

  Feminism is our modern swastika.

  Space Monkey

  Oh how I stare at the abyss,

  And long for things I miss,

  I cannot say what led you here,

  Nor what are the rumours you hear,

  But I am certain you've made a mistake,

  And now it is time for you to awake,

  I am a monster without doubt,

  Known to violently lash out,

  So flee fast from my sight,

  Before I grow hungry and bite.

  Passive Aggressive Spring

  Beat,

  The heat,

  That's the feat,

  And hear the tweet,

  How to survive on street.

  Deceit,

  Box of wheat,

  Breakfast on repeat.

  Sweet.