Monday, July 23, 2018

34 results for 'Jack Bates'

Apple iPad: Changing Digital Art

By Jack Bates, published on Jan 29, 2010

I pick the new Apple iPad, not because of what it does but how it does it. The iPad does everything an iphone does and most of what a laptop does. This thing is more than a “gadget”. It is a new way to “flow” with your technology. I have a good friend that first introduced me to the “flow of technology”. What I learned is that good technology gets out of the way of that flow, like the first mp3 players. Great technology enhances that “flow” and allows you to customize it to fit your needs, like the first iPhone. Apple has lead in technology “flow” devices and software for years now,... (more)

Tags: ipad, itunes, appstore

His Life's Opus

By Jack Bates, published on Jan 27, 2010

It was a brisk spring day. The wind danced across the face of the pond. The morning sun betrayed the rippling foot prints of the wind upon the water's surface. A beautiful ritual of awakening began at the pond. Fish chased the wind, only to catch a vaporous footprint. Birds serenaded the sun as it rose from it's resting place behind the mountain's peak.

Even as the world awoke, the night's chorus came to an end. Bull frogs set aside bass and kettle drums. Water walkers and dragon flies stowed violins, flutes and piccolos. The spotlight dimmed as the moon set. The curtains parted... (more)

Tags: death, memories, time, passing

The Cold Fire of a Single Word

By Jack Bates, published on Jan 16, 2010

Burning, cold Fire, iceTry to be bold Try to be niceNo, I've been told More than twice Burned by the cold Crushed by the viceNerves no longer contained Pain no longer feltFeelings drained Heart will meltWith nothing to sustain The emotions inside Now I'm plain Nothing to hideNow I show all Having nothing to showFire started small But, continued to grow Fueled by the call Of the answer no!


Tags: rejection, teen angst

The Machine

By Jack Bates, published on Jan 15, 2010

I float through morning's fogFloat by drivers who whip their dogsIn to rusty Cog Town, whereI see countless tiny brown cogsThe cogs grind, they're neglectedThey run until they breakNew cogs grind, neglectedWorking to the same fateMachine drivers, fat, blindMiddle mechanics, lazyToothless brown cogs grindingThis machine drives me crazy!Another brown cog brokenShiny cog is installedThe machine doesn't brakeGrinding more new cogs downGround downAs the coffee they drinkCogs drownIn their sweat and their stinkKept downToo busy, no time to think



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