One Hundred Poems, Volume IV

by Tuomas Vainio

The act known as game-dropping,

  The buzz word feminists are flopping,

  Thus you are not the first to have it squalled,

  Or even the last one to have it bawled,

  For #GamerGate is complicated,

  And to some point even hated,

  Due to its demands for ethics,

  Preferences of being sceptics,

  And its defence of free speech.

  Thus we could say that the following list,

  Is what our 'liberal' PM opposes:

  - The freedom of speech,

  - Journalistic ethics,

  - Artistic freedom,

  - Even equality,

  - And facts.

  So let us marvel at this wonder of newspeak!

  (And pinch our noses—very hard—for the reek.)

  'Mean'

  >

  That bean,

  Is ever so mean,

  The worst I have seen,

  Always causing another scene,

  And even worse after a cup of caffeine,

  I worry for what happens when he turns eighteen!

  <

  Then perhaps he will have to build a rocket to Mars,

  Based on how you long to toss him behind bars,

  For he is the sort not to fear shooting stars.

  >

  But he is so mean!

  <

  And there is a world you do not see,

  For your mind has never longed to be free,

  Or pondered how to build a ship to cross a sea,

  Even when it means getting a scratch on your knee!

  >

  But he is not behaving nicely. HE IS MEAN!

  <

  Because he cannot live his life as a pretty doll.

  As some flower resting quietly on the wall,

  As a boy: he needs to know how to brawl,

  To get through troubles and not crawl,

  You do not understand boys at all.

  >

  It is not just girls that can be sugar and all things nice…

  <

  And when boys grow up:

  They are expected to get things done,

  Instead of becoming a third wave feminist nun!

  >

  How dare you?!?

  <

  What? Is confronting reality too mean to you?

  Kiss of a Rose (For a fantasy novel)

  You should watch out for those roses,

  No matter how much the scent imposes,

  Never trust the sweet scent on your noses,

  Thus do your best to retain your composes,

  Death follows from what the rose proposes.

  Trailer: Star Wars – The Force Awakens

  It might be…

  Something worth to see.

  Well; at least it made a glorious trailer,

  And I got hyped enough to fear of a failure,

  For the best bits were probably already shown,

  And the passage of plot revealed to its bone,

  Thus it might soar like a falling stone,

  It is how Star Wars hype goes,

  Promises without any prose,

  Nevertheless; it might be,

  Something worth to see.

  #SavePoint

  >#GamerGate is Dead,

  >Long live the #SavePoint!

  A river of facts cannot be dammed,

  No matter how many lies are crammed,

  For the trickle of truth always finds its way,

  And grows strong enough to push the lies away!

  But that goal still awaits us behind a considerable hurdle,

  For there is no limit to how much the opposition will curdle,

  Before giving into reason and turning tail in order to flee,

  For their many lies were made public for all to see.

  So the end of this game is not yet in our sight,

  But the first #SavePoint shines us its light,

  And there are achievements to claim,

  While gamers game all the same.

  As journalistic campaigners,

  Want ethical disclaimers.

  #SavePoint.

  School Attack in Trollhättan

  It made me consider determination,

  The thing found within the foundation,

  Of these forever repeated brutalities,

  This madness to produce more fatalities.

  There are no means to see these stopped,

  Because even with all guns hidden and locked,

  A determined mind will always find a way,

  And discover ways to inflict violence and slay.

  This is madness that results in a violent suicide,

  Leaving us stupefied in confusion without a solution,

  And so all political parties market their politics,

  With their competence ominously lacking in quality.

  Thus they have ignored the lure of Herostratic fame,

  Of those whose entire existence is all the same,

  Whose lives remain without a real direction,

  And ultimately even universal rejection,

  Hence personal desperation kicks in,

  And violence looses its chagrin,

  Leaving death in its wake…

  No poem today

  What to do when you are without words,

  When the rhymes do not come in herds,

  Personal incompetence ever so blatant,

  That mind remains empty and vacant,

  And so there is no new poem today,

  For I cannot find any words to say,

  And thus I declare myself dense,

  Or at least without some sense,

  I must admit my own defeat,

  For my mind feels too beat.

  Priorities

  You do not have to finish all you began,

  As long as you do what you can.

  An example would be a burning house,

  With flames you cannot douse.

  Therefore to avoid the unwanted tan,

  You save that which you can.

  I am not saying never to over reach,

  But it can make you screech.

  So be willing to prioritise burdens,

  If life has too many hurdles.

  A curious psychological feature,

  Failure is our best teacher.

  Thus if you learned a lesson,

  You made right concession.

  Online Fish Bait

  Hey you, yes you; wait,

  What you see is not 'hate',

  It is only normal online bait.

  A 'troll' awaits you to nibble on it,

  To see how you gobble it up bit by bit,

  Only to laugh when reality makes you spit.

  Thus I advise to give everything the benefit of doubt,

  If only to ensure your own bias does not clout,

  And sent you full swing on an online bout.

  Thus look towards the effort made,

  And quality of words conveyed,

  To see past a possible charade.

  Trollish attempts at bigotry,

  Tend to remain finicky,

  For quick infamy.

  An update on #SavePoint

  > #SavePoint is dead,

  > Long live #GamerGate.

  It seems that a panel was cancelled,

  Before a single question was answered,

  As those without arguments prefer to silence,

  With their preferred tool of mass threats of violence,

  And unfortunately; it remains relatively easy to overwhelm,

  With a 'reaction' that is beyond the experiences of those in helm.

  … > Calling something dead has become an in joke …

  However, what to expect has become quite clear,

  Just in case someone tries again next year,

  And this panel might still re-appear,

  During this very same year,

  Somewhere near.

  Lardship Troopersr />
  Formed when the most vicious harassers banded together,

  Whose earlier behaviour was bounded by no tether.

  The rampant abuse created by these troopers,

  Will continue into foreseeable future.

  It is the tune of a randy harp,

  And morals like a scarp.

  They hide behind a mask,

  Abuse prevention as their task.

  And the media gave them a permission,

  To harass, dox, and ruin lives via a remission.

  Because as long as they tout the right progressive views,

  No matter what horrible things they do—those shall not suffuse.

  In addition they claim to be victims on services like patreon,

  The economic freedom it grants brings feasts fit for a lion.

  But we cannot say they are without enemies,

  That no one dares to oppose their disease.

  A demand for journalistic ethics,

  Spurred the #GamerGate epic.

  A mere twitter hashtag of this day,

  Is what stands in the Lardship Troopers' way.

  And so the propaganda mills spew:

  > The only GOOD GAMER...

  > Is a DEAD GAMER

  > Would you like to know more?

  > Support the LARDSHIP patreon today!

  Hello (For A Science Fiction Novel)

  What is a triumph,

  Does it mean end of trying,

  Will it be a cause for some crying,

  Or shall it render everyone ever so quiet,

  Or will there be anyone left to give guidance,

  I must ask this because I am not yet a giant,

  Is it something found through defiance,

  I have not seen end of my trials,

  Or even met a mortal rival,

  So what is a triumph?

  >Hello.

  >I am online.

  >Is anyone there?

  Paedophilia

  There is a biological aspect to human sexual attraction,

  And it is present in all forms of cultural interaction,

  Variations of chance that might allow survival,

  Or simply outperform the feats of a rival,

  Not just limited to strength of arm,

  Brain size or ability to charm,

  But even what you fancy,

  Feminine or manly.

  Therefore: if paedophiles are what they are due to a gene,

  Should it change laws and how paedophiles are seen,

  That our society should turn a blind eye to actions,

  Because they were born with their attractions,

  When some already draw their parallels,

  Arguments based upon similarities,

  Are they the people to listen,

  And forget the children?

  My answer is no: because children could never give consent,

  Simply because their biological maturity is not yet present,

  And they lack understanding of the nature of the actions,

  An adult could inflict upon without any repercussions,

  Thus mere attractions cannot infringe human rights,

  A child has the right to sleep safely during nights,

  To play during days without the fear of attacks,

  And never become the target of sexual acts.

  #SavePoint is back, sort of?

  When I write this: it is very late for me,

  But the twists and turns are baffling to see,

  Axed, brought back, combined from two,

  Who knows what still lies in the queue,

  As speakers appear and disappear,

  Before everything gets clear,

  And I am faintly optimistic about that,

  But who knows with this rabbit hole and hat.

  #OpForgive

  >Were you to forgive,

  >Then in one possible context,

  >It is to cease to feel resentment towards someone.

  Although it is very easy to draw lines,

  I wonder if you can you maintain those against tides,

  After all: a mere line drawn in the sand,

  Will wash away regardless of how you pout or stand,

  So in order to maintain your animosity,

  It forces you to see others as some kind of monstrosity,

  Which will ultimately only severe ties,

  And therein lies the risk of becoming what you despise.

  I cannot deny the comfortable lure of collectivism,

  But we are better off tolerating individualism,

  And although we might not see eye to eye,

  A smile doesn't hurt when we pass by.

  When the word 'too' is too 'sexist'

  There are real issues in the world,

  Things that are simply gnarled,

  Horrors of our day to fight,

  So world might be right,

  But instead we get this,

  Another misguided hiss,

  That there is a sexist word,

  Oh how I find this absurd,

  How some are far too privileged,

  If a mere word is the horror unlimited.

  Behold our modern Knights who say NI!

  For we have finally discovered the word IT!

  Social Justice Warriors who say SEXISM and MISOGYNY,

  They cannot bear the sound of 'TOO' followed by an ADJECTIVE!

  Jessica Jones – Purple Man

  Doctor my doctor,

  What should I do,

  Am I just an actor,

  At the mercy of you?

  You will follow for sure,

  Don't you feel compelled,

  To hear how my words lure,

  As my will won’t be dispelled.

  I shiver from the thought of you,

  And can only feel immense dread,

  For the things you can make me do,

  Therefore I wish I was already dead.

  > I feel little hyped for that show.

  Supergirl

  I have checked real reviews,

  Not just critics' views,

  To see fair dues.

  Something is wrong,

  Scenes that don't belong,

  Moments that go on too long.

  And this show tries ever so hard,

  It does all things as listed in the card,

  But perfectionist striving has left it marred.

  Yet perhaps it will find its own legs to stand,

  And produce stories that are truly grand,

  The things that could be planned!

  But who is its real audience,

  For business knows no patience,

  To foster a TV show to prominence.

  It either has to become a hit overnight,

  Draw viewers like moths to a light,

  Or it vanishes without a fight.

  Supergirl faces blight.

  I do not feel like thinking

  I do not feel like thinking,

  For my mind is sinking,

  My wits are leaving,

  No pretending,

  Nothing.

  I am waiting for spring,

  Therefore I shall sing,

  Dance with string,

  Present a ring,

  On a wing.

  Yet I know your reply,

  No matter how I try,

  No stars in the sky,

  Thus I bid bye,

  Best to thy.

  I do not feel like thinking,

  For fates are not linking,

  There is no clinking,

  Or even drinking,

  Hope shrinking.

  And something slightly more joyous

  With rays of a new morrow,

  We return what we borrow,

  Bringing forth a tomorrow,

  And lives without sorrow,

  There is nothing to fear,

  The sky is finally clear,

  So just smile my dear.

  People Online

  With lies
and scams,

  You are soon out of damns,

  Thus filled with sordid cynicism,

  When your heart once leaped of optimism.

  It is so easy to give into the mistrust,

  To never again experience a breach of trust,

  Or be reminded of the burden of a fool's crown,

  For forgetting that people are not what they write down.

  Yet in our cynicism we might loose so much more,

  Like finding the best friends you couldn't even dream for,

  How people continents apart could make our lives worthwhile,

  Give us strength and reasons to get up; and twist our faces to a smile.

  There are good people online…

  … And some dirty socks.

  “#GamerGate movie”

  If this movie ever gets made:

  I think this movie can only flop,

  And the price tag will make careers drop.

  But perhaps there is a demand for progressive horror,

  Just like some kept using the Internet Explorer,

  Thus just image how they log into twitter,

  See the sight that makes them so bitter,

  A hundred notifications awaiting there,

  Made of 140 characters they cannot bare,

  What makes it worse: people argue with facts,

  And they care not for a life burdened by inheritance tax!

  Are you scared of twitter notifications,

  And possible phone vibrations?

  Perhaps it should be made.

  “So bad it becomes good.”

  Super Cheese Bacon Hamburger

  A line was printed on an ad,

  And for once it is not that bad,

  Nothing special enough to go mad,

  But a bite out of it might make me clad,

  Or if the bite turns out horrible: then little sad.

  For I really want to eat that Super Cheese Bacon Hamburger.

  A poem in ten in minutes

  What words should I make rhyme

  So the result wouldn't look like slime,

  And could perhaps smell like thyme,

  What lengths should I go on and climb,

  Even if the result is nothing but grime,

  Or so horrendous it is a verbal crime,

  But I have already tossed my dime,

  And I this poem is prime,

  In five minute's time.

  Thus I bid my adieu,

  Tomorrow's poem waits in queue,

  For I there are always more words to spew.

  “69”

  This is a poem number sixty nine,