Poems about machine



Machine of Life

Pressing GO,
Will make it move.
Pushing STOP,
Will make it pause.
Pressing AT WAR,
Will make it swing.
Pushing PEACE,
Will make it negotiate.

But make it LOVE,
It will kill.

life,  machine.

Author: Randy PSoMAS Wiafe
Date: 06/04/2020



Maybe they don't care,
Because I'm always,
Lying through my teeth,
Every time they ask,
If I'm okay,
The words come quick,
Because they're programmed,
Behind my lips,
I always say,
I'm doing just fine,
But my fake smile,
Hides my constant denial,
The lies shown on my face,
The words so mechanic,
Driven just the right way,
Always make them think,
I'm okay.


Author: Aleah
Date: 06/04/2020


Black Lung (formerly: The Machine)

He envisions the Machine as a large locomotive
Of a deep, tainted, black metal chugging down and infinite track
The eternally glowing red hot coals pushing the pistons
A giant crimson cowcatcher is fixed at the front
Scraping up followers; forcing them into the vehicle
Manipulating Its passengers to smash their heads into the Machine
Welding their minds into Its mysterious black metal walls

Stained with the blood of many who have tried to resist
Ultimately wounded, maimed, outcaste from society
Forever marked, branded by the scars of their attempt
When the Machine has used you and-or your mind to Its purose
It shoves you into Its furnace—keeping the pistons turning
The Machine cannot be stopped—always picking up followers
Forcing you into It; becoming one with the Machine

As He looks into the engine room, there is no conductor
A runaway locomotive chugging down the track with no end
Its only goal: gathering as many passengers as possible
Society, Washington, the Media built the machine
Their brainchild, but have long since become a part of It
Their minds welded the deepest—becoming the foundation of Its walls
Long ago abandoning their carcasses to fuel their mighty creation

black,  lung,  machine.

Author: Kendall Mallon
Date: 05/04/2020


Peter Sotos' Number One Hit Machine

"Sit down boy, you're tired and you must sleep"
The voice said to me as I walked the city street
Fuzzy steps taken to a bench I saw over yonder
Sleepily wandering, the streetlights I ponder
Passive disorientation, I'm lost it would seem
Consciousness becomes a trickle, as opposed to a stream
Dragging myself over shards of glass, paralysed and sleeping
A shadow 'neath the moonlight seems to be steadily creeping
Isolated in this park in the darkness on a sigma plateau
Dextromethorphan hallucinations are a spectacular show
I'm indifferent to the stranger, drowsy as he appears
Isolated in the nighttime winds, apathetic to his tears
Uncoordinated my head falling he takes a seat softly
Dissociative disorder makes me seem awfully frosty
Speaking of lands where the populace truly is free
Speaking unintelligible words, indirectly to me
The intrinsic disconnect of this generation scorned
As the sun rises in the sky, glittered clouds adorned
My head lulls lackadaisically, I'm feeling unwell
But my stomach is eased when I think of sweet Maybelle

[Hers is a Nabokovian tale of passion in proto-dystopian wastelands
The first time we kissed, I held her soft head tenderly in my hands
The serenade of rain pitter-patter on the ground, like her feet when she's near
And hearing her name is as cathartic as those old jazz records I hold so dear
But, oh my pretty Belle, your age is a concern to me (and the eyes of the law)
So to forget your sweet face, I pop pills neglectfully, passing out on the floor]

Lifting head slowly from the rough ground dampened
Four years passed and I'm wondering what happened
Fuzzy headed blues, clear my mind with OJ and reefer
Walking fast to her house, cannot wait to see her
A rap-tap on the door with thoughts of romantic enumerations
What she said and what I saw defied every one of my expectations

My innocent Belle, with her cheeks rosy red,
Looks me in the eyes, and wishes I was dead

hit,  machine,  number,  peter.

Author: Reece
Date: 29/03/2020


Ghost in the Machine

I am the ghost in the machine
You raise the curtain and what Tim Burton told you would be there is
I will feast on your Innards and cast without regard to your suicidal aunt
A hand gun and tell her to have fun
I am the devil and it's not evil I seek it's retribution.
Join my clan; you don't still believe you're part of some godly plan!
Ahahahahah! You're so cute when you're terrified. Go on try and run, you'll never hide.
But behind your eyes I smell desperation.
And any chance at rehabilitation would be masturbation
And yet you have hope behind those eyes. Your mind racing with possibilities that I might be lovable and changeable.
But I'm the devil and hell is my navel
I control the universe.
Your dog got hit by a car.
Blame me,
He looks better as tar
He makes a great floor mat. Should have trained him in hand to paw combat.
Your mum is terminally Ill
Send me the bill.
You best friend dies, hate to say it but did he even try.
I control and contort; I do not send hope or
Comfort. I am the devil. They say third times the charm
Maybe this Time you'll remember I'm here only to do harm.
I'm the ghost in the machine.
But I'm only as strong as you make me seem.

ghost,  machine.

Author: Esther Helen Soucoup
Date: 28/03/2020


Time Machine

There he was,
His dark hair slicked back as he wove his hand through,
The sleeve of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows.
When he looked up, his brown eyes met mine.
It shone in recognition.
For a moment,
We turn back in time
In the days where I first saw you,
When we were younger and foolish.
But before my heart start to waver;
Before the walls I've built cracks;
I turned around and walk away,
Just like you did that summer.

{ E. I }

machine,  time.

Author: Little Azaleah
Date: 25/03/2020


The machine of greed

Having swam the oceans for millennia
Washed up upon the shore
Mankind clawed its way out the dirt
With a ravenous appetite
Unchecked began to ravage Mother Earth
Cutting themselves off from nature
With tarmac and concrete
Burning fossil ancestors polluting the air they breathe
To feed the machine
Of greed.

greed,  machine.

Author: nivek
Date: 24/03/2020



The world turns within and without you
Though contains you, does not limit you.

I am one, I am all -but
A messenger of lies
Or a masked carbon copy
Or a vessel planted to the cold groud,
Though do not abandon my roots.

I am a passion filled star beaming towards the earth
Conditioned far beyond conformity
Listen close, don't be blinded by aesthetic beauty

My words, there lies the message
You are free
Free from machine
The mechanism will function within or without you.


Author: Alyson Byrne
Date: 21/03/2020