Best Gps Poems
GPS a heavenly perspective.
Have you ever needed help, or guidance in life?
It's when we are lost on the road that we finally realize
That, we cannot manage without help so we ask for directions
It's up to us to follow them, without asking too many questions.
We use a GPS to help us when we're lost or off course
An indispensable guidance system a valuable resource
Do you trust in it's guidance or question if the directions are right?
After all you can't see the satellite with your own two eyes.
You trust that it gives you the right directions that you need
because, it has a higher perspective than our view from the street
If we trust, or put faith in a satellite that we cannot see
Should it not be easy for us then in our Creator to believe?
G ods
P erfect
S tandards
John Derek Hamilton
February12,2016
I stand in a corner
with a flickering soul
reminiscent of a sentinel
standing apt in a full armor suit,
now rusting at the seams,
Like an abandoned lighthouse
on a deserted isle
with a whirling glowing eye
scouring the choppy water
for the lost souls
amid gathering fog
and a foreboding storm.
No sirens of the sea
have sung in recent times
to lure those lost at sea
to their rocky coast.
GPS and I have a covert relationship. She is my operative, I am her mission.
She seeks to get me places I am supposed to be, and she often does a great job.
At these times I am her minion, happily following her,
but forgetting to praise her.
Other times the mission should have been aborted in the middle,
but she does not know it yet.
She leads me into the middle of wheat fields,
or under graffiti-laden bridges, in outskirts of nowhere.
One time my operative led me to the edge of a tall cliff,
staring out into sea, six hundred feet down.
Was I teetering on the brink of a disastrous fall?
No, but it was still horrible, and it could have happened.
While my GPS cheerfully sang “You have reached your destination.”
Do you suppose she meant my FINAL destination?
I can’t find my way, not from bottom or top
No sense of direction, a real traffic flop
Technology tries
Yet still, it defies
For me, GPS means, Give up Please and Stop
in
twenty
twenty
they implanted
the first GPS
into a human brain
to point out the way
on the way
it
got confused
and burnt out
before
the warranty
was up
A sultry voice gave directions.
Wrong turn, then came the corrections.
A panic attack –
Screams came from the back.
“We're lost; where are the connections?”
©October 30, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
*Image of Global Positioning System by Rankr.
All Roads Led to Hell, Until GPS
An attempted refolded map resolved itself against a ruffled sort,
the championed driver -- not of cars,
GPS constants a dashboard as a storm flit to nonexistence,
ado about the guy at the wheel flits with it,
chuckles as dawn speaks and sunrise glints at a trustful eye,
an oiled motor now runs cooly, slightly fresh tire scarring rolls on,
a car stops on the side of a country lane,
an idling engine idles a bevy of doves perched on a limb,
opts for a U-turn as an all clearance was taken,
a mouth forces years of hardened cells upward, donning anew emerges,
whistling attuned to a suite medley of birdsongs while fingers push a fedora near a car ceiling,
stops at the florist, the candy store, and longer at the jewelers,
sounds of a car parking in the drive,
a woman wiping to dryness look sees a mirror,
a throat clears and coughed to a soothing, and hair is being fussed,
a trembling stand eases to absence, a door being faced down a hallway opens,
a bouquet of roses, a candy box, a gift box, and a rugged man fall in unison fronting an entry doorway,
weeping in glad tidings calls outwardly, "Look what my GPS said!" a shocked woman rushes forward to kneel,
The solid man raised his GPS to her ever-widening eyes,
GPS read out, "God Promises Salvation,"
Two souls lived contentedly until their hereafter in bliss.
2022 August 18
Talat.Apni soti menu day..
Sain.Tun bund vich leni ay??
Talat.Aho bund vich leni ay..
Sain.Bara wada ganda ayn..
Talat.Aho me pen yak policeya..
Sain.Powder day jurm vich kini
dair jail katti ce??
Talat.Wawa dair andar rya wan..
Sain.Tun punjab police de shaan..
Talat.Apni bhesaki menu day..
Sain.Tun oday vich tracker lana ay..
Talat.Tun bara chalak hoshyar ayn..
Sain.Me twaday Crime King da Abu..
Talat.IG akhya munday nu maar dawo..
Sain.Oye CIA daya putra thanay kehchari
ton lay kay Crime King day loray day size
tak menu har sheh de kahabar Ay..
Note.Talat Teri gaand k size ka Don ka Loda..
How we love our Global Positioning System for getting us to a place…and back
but what are we to do…when our GPS attacks?
First of all let me come clean…I admit with my GPS…sometimes I like to play
I’ll miss a turn on purpose…just to see what she will say.
After all it is my Global Positioning System…I am the consumer
Only I didn’t know my GPS didn’t have sense of humor.
The first indication I had that of humor she was bereft
was when in the middle of a bridge one day she advised me to ‘Turn Left’
But that was a few years ago…many times since then…together we have driven
However on our latest trip to the mountains I found I have yet to be forgiven.
I programmed in our route…and things seemed to be going smooth…until…
before we knew it instead of heading north we were heading east to Jacksonville.
I imagine before this happened she probably thought I persecuted her
When….for a fraction of a second…as a joke…I may have muted her.
The next thing I knew we had crossed the state in the completely wrong direction
So I apologized, reprogrammed her and waited for her correction.
And she did correct, at least I think she did…we seemed headed the right way
but some of the roads seemed desolate…one was even made of clay….
I finally had to turn her off…but speaking as the consumer…
I now believe my GPS has a mischievous sense of humor
Because it took us 12 hours to finally arrive at our hotel
on this madcap trip she’d been choreographing
and even though she was turned off…
I swear I could heard her laughing.
There was no knocking,
a scared, shaking visitor...
lost dog needing help.
THERE ARE MANY THINGS
I'D SURE LIKE TO KNOW.
BECAUSE CURIOSITY
CONTINUALLY GROWS
DO MIGRATING BIRDS
HAVE GPS ?
OR IS THEIR SENSE
OF DIRECTION SIMPLY THE BEST.
INTUITION OR INSTINCT
HOW DO THEY KNOW.?
OF ALL THE DIRECTIONS
WHICH WAY TO GO?
MIGRATION TAKES PLACE
WE KNOW THERE'S A REASON.
BUT HOW CAN THEY TELL
IT'S TIME OR THAT SEASON.?
THEY ARRIVE EVERY YEAR.
ON THE VERY SAME DAY.
ISN'T IT ODD
IN SOME KIND OF WAY.?
ARE THEY COUNTING THE DAYS?
OR COUNTING THE NIGHTS.?
MAYBE THEY'RE COUNTING
THEIR HOURS IN FLIGHT.
AS IT TURNS OUT
OR AS SCIENTISTS SAY.
MAGNETIC FIELDS
PROVIDE THEM THE WAY
GEOMAGNETIC
FIELDS ARE A MAP.
THEY FOLLOW THE FIELDS
AND ALWAYS COME BACK
Michael E Harris
09171021
Some have Siri,
others have Alexa;
but my GPS
I call it Robert;
for it seems to always
take the road less travelled by.
I see the highway on its little screen;
while I meander
down some potholed lane
that somehow seemed to
have the better claim on Robert.
I swear I typed in ‘fastest.’
but Robert is pre-programmed,
so it appears,
to always take me via ‘scenic,’
perhaps he’s keeping fastest,
for another day.
U-turns are his specialty,
along with narrow lanes
with red signs;
bent in the undergrowth
‘Beware Heavy Plant’
with no room
for the passing there.
Two interviews;
and both that morning,
I’m sure some time, ages hence
I will arrive;
late;
for Robert
took the route less traveled by,
which has made all the difference!
Isn’t it peculiar that the doctor slaps your bottom
and you scream and holler ‘bout such rude behavior,
then some dude in robes and cloaks
dunks your head and soaks and soaks
‘till you breathe a gulp of water for the savior.
If I’m like the rest, we were wrestled from the breast
and handed hard glass bottles with a teat,
then we’re put into a room
filled with numbers, words and doom
and told to punctuate and write real neat.
From there it’s pretty easy to see what came about.
The TV was presented as the drug of choice and doubt.
But now computers run this world;
they’ve got things running “right”.
You disagree? Hear this from me.
They can see you from a satellite!
“turn right after the bend” said Lea from the GPS
that was easy to follow, I like this devise
“one mile ahead turn right onto ocean view drive”
I wish I had this years ago
“next right is gull’s landing, go ¼ mile to the end”
“you have reach your destination”.
what the heck! I don’t want to be here.
Lea you messed up with your directions
“you are where you asked to go”
I don’t want to watch gulls landing in the ocean
“Sir, I don’t know what happens at gull landing,
but I took you where you requested”
the gulls are landing on my car and relieving themselves
‘Sir, I would expect that to happen at this address”
can you get me out of here now?
“where do you want to go”?
crab’s point I told her
“turn around and follow these directions.”
I now have crabs crawling all over my car
“I’m not at all surprised with an address like that”
Lea, I’m not all amused by your sense of humor
my car is a mess, I’d like to send you some place
“sir I sent you to your requests, I won’t accept your hostility”
‘you’ve been crabbing at me and now have the gull to be rude”
‘so you are where you should have been in the first place”
Arguing with GPS.
Pernicious words, hatred spewed in impotent rage
against the female voice telling me to turn left at the first roundabout
“Shut up, silly cow, I know this road better than you.”
“You never follow my instruction is it because I`m a woman?”
“No dear, it is because I know the roads around here better than you.”
“So, you don´t need me anymore?
“No, dear is no so when sitting alone in the car it is nice to hear a friendly voice.”
Sobbing and soft music from the GPS.
“You have to follow the instruction,” she said, sounding like my doctor.
He got angry and said, “I can turn you off if I want to.”
She said you will regret this when driving to Lisbon.”
When arriving home, the voice said, “you have arrived at your destination.”
For heaven’s sake, I know.