Tag Archives: status

[facebook status of the decade?]

Richard Anthony Morris Ok, so part of me wants to know why people feel the need to ‘Like’ status updates that are either people having a shit time of it or the ones that are a flat out question, it’s stupid. For example ‘Random Name is having a really bad week’ or ‘Random Name is wondering if anyone knows where to by super glue?’ is not something to ‘Like’. God that’s fucking stupid. If somebody asks a question or is having a rough time, answer the question or see if they’re OK. You dumb fuck! Fucks sake.

/rant

That was from a while back on Facebook where I got annoyed because somebody ‘liked’ a status that showed that the person was having a rough time of things. I just felt the need to yell about it for some reason. To be honest, this has been sitting in my drafts for some time. Glad to publish it.

[facebook status leads to poetry]

So having recently looked back on the haikus and
poems on this blog with Jeni I noticed something
quite worrying. It had been a while since  I had
posted any sort of poetry up and in that also realised
that it had been just as long since I had written a poem.

The problem is inspiration and not knowing what to write
about. I had actually forgotten this worrying thought when
this morning [whilst too tired to get out of bed] I updated
my status on Facebook. Just saying ‘tired’ and this led to
my flatmate commenting, and in the end resulted in me
making poetry.

I’m kinda happy about that.

In case you can’t read it, as it seems to have become bad quality
I’ll rewrite them.

Me –
I have a finite amount of days upon this mortal ride,
And it seems that sleep runs like a thief through my tired mind.
Stealing not gold nor items of much worth,
But only the time I have on this Earth.

Will –
But surely in sleep we discover our dreams,
Where mortal reality is ripped at the seams.
It is this that gives us our hopes and desires,
Till the day we march on to our own funeral pyres.

Me –
But with hopes and desires already considered,
There possibility having faded and withered.
Means that sleeps, the art of subtle realisation,
becomes nothing more that a practice in self deprecation.

I guess that poetic Richard is back.