Best Invention Poems
It begins with a thought
A simple spark igniting
the universe of mind
An unconscious gift
Intangible but substantive
The physical mechanics begin
Interpretation of invisible blueprint
Manifestation in dimension
Lines crossed, realms united
The form emerges
Each movement defining shape
Incremental fulfillment
Energy to essence
Then at last, ideas realized
Born of perpetual passion
Borrowed from collective intelligence
Invention
12/24/17
Every poem
An invention
Some would say:
When a romantic
Creates a breathing rose
In the mind
For the heart of another
A far superior find
Than all
Man’s Relativities—
So—
Let Einstein rest
Of his atoms
Undressed;
And Galileo
Further divest
In some far
Distant sky,
Too far off
Even
For modern
Glass-eye
Perhaps now,
As I,
Would also decry:
That the artist, alone,
Sees and lives,
A true icon,
Beyond the grave—
A slave not to science,
But to love and beauty;
With far more inquisitive duty,
That of revealing
The Universe
The soul of it
Divine—
Tap, tap, clickety-clack
Thoughts vigilantly stamped
Trademark of transcription
Technology's prologue
Twain's famous "Tom Sawyer"
Time etched black and white scene
Tinted with grandpa's dust
4-27-2021
I love it
When you touch me
And squeeze me really tight
You make me
Feel important
With all the warmth and light
I value
Every moment
Even if they’re brief
Getting noticed
And being chosen
Is such a huge relief
Don’t let
The skies rule you
And tell you what to do
Sitting idle
In a heap
Can be really bad for you
Don’t keep
Me in the dark
I prefer not to take a break
I’m happiest
Being out there
When integrity’s at stake
Even though
I’m weathered
Strength is my best feature
I’ve endured
Hard times before
And survived a vicious creature
But still
I’m always faithful
When I know that you are mine
I hold on tight
With all my might
To your best clothes on the line
Some get things right the first time.
Most of us do not.
Mistake. Mistake.
A rubber cake.
Okay, it is not edible, but if we roll it into balls, can we bounce it?
Bounce. Bounce. Bounce.
What did you do wrong? My mother asks me.
If I knew that, I would be able to make a fortune.
Nine bouncy balls out of a cake mix.
Imagine how smart that is.
Mistakes can be wonderful!
My friends and I follow my cake down the sidewalk,
Not eating it.
But enjoying
it
with
a
real
fondness
"le temps est une invention des gens incapable d'aimer"
mine is a suspended time
away from here and sublime.
there are open doors and windows to my world.
they are hung and hinged in many flavors swirled.
a phantom paints
the thoughts of saints
he draws as he scrawls
on my bedroom walls.
welcome to my machine
it is here we convene
all of my thoughts all of my ideas and moods.
here where from every pore my life exudes.
this is the one place i come home to.
far away from where i live and grew.
i search areas where no man has trod.
on my boat just me and my fishing rod.
"toujours les grand coeurs aimeront"
Necessity
- the Mother of Invention -
A Sunday walk took me on a journey over six miles,
carrying nothing bur myself, shorts, sweat shirt, sandals.
On Monday, to the grocery store and back, over three miles
carrying all the above, plus twenty five pounds of groceries.
On Tuesday, a walk to the auto parts store, over two miles
carrying myself, my cloths and thirty pounds ( clutch ) of my car.
On Wednesday, another walk to the parts store, over two miles
carrying the above, returning with the thirty pounds of my car.
On Thursday, another walk to the grocery store, over three miles
carrying myself, my cloths, returning with thirty five pounds of groceries.
Thursday evening and a walk to the auto parts store, over two miles
carrying myself, my cloths, plus forty pounds ( flywheel ) of my car.
Late Friday afternoon, another walk to the parts store, two miles
returning with all listed above, the forty pounds of my car.
On Saturday, all my doubts, my insecurities, my fears
disappeared as I laid my car on the cemented terra firma,
fired up her heart and took her into motion once more.
Out the underground door and into the light of day.
Surprise !, not a nut, bolt, washer left over off the jack stands to stay.
For all went well and life, it had become the Mother of Invention.
I accomplished something new, what I thought – at sixty three-
I would never be able to do - ever again – things I did in youth.
There you have it Joyce, another week in the life .
Over a total of thirty miles of walking
and carrying over a total of 220 pounds
B. J. “A” 2
April 30th 2006
I’ve got a great invention
I use it all the time
It does the things that I should do
It always works just fine
It cleans my room it tidies up
And puts my stuff away
Does chores I don’t have time to do
So I can go and play
I never have to worry
If I run a little late
I find my meals are cooked for me
And ready on a plate
It doesn’t need much maintenance
To make it sweetly hum
Just a little oiling,
With the words “I love you mum”
© John W Fenn 14-02-2009
Telephones.
These things cause more aggro thanb any single object in the universe,
Firstly if you ring a service you're afflicted by a sadist female voice telling you to know your
place and follow the instructions,
Secondly if you phone someone with a mobile then its practically impossible to reach them
because they're high on cocaine,
Thirdly if you try to phone a friend they say 'I'm busy can you call back later,
And fourthly if someone phones you then its probably a company's recorded message saying
congratulations you've won the east coast of majorca,
Fifthly if you haven't been totally p##### off by now then the devil calls and tells you,
You're going to hell for eternity.
I've thrown mine out.
Good riddance to bad rubbish.
Long ago, before words were known
Sound simply didn't exist
A smile was the only thing needed
Or a tear, if someone were missed
Love was then, the language of choice
A silent show of affection
Until that day when sound was invented
The heartbreaking cry of rejection
A teardrop had finally found its voice
The silence was broken in two
A broken heart had finally spoken
And the people knew not what to do
No words of comfort could pass their lips
For words were yet to be known
So the sound of heartbreak spread like cancer
For those doomed to suffer alone
Words would one day come to fruition
And comfort would finally be found
But the silence was silenced forever more
Because the invention of sound
Necessity is the mother of invention
Leave us to our creativeness
Cos our necessity
Is our drive
We he nothing to lose
Yes nothingness means
Something
Were necessity is obvious
So leave us to our creativeness
Cos is obvious you can save
Us from our foolishness
Our deformity
Was from your failures
And now your lack of
Leadership is obvious
To the world
So leave us to our creativeness
Let our time be the beginning
Of a chance of our old
Era
Our necessity is obvious
To the world
So leave us alone
We are pregnant for an invention
From the womb of the necessity
Your impregnated through your
Failed leadership
Our bold and proud
hyper-cyber generation
has conquered space,
has mastered time and motion.
We've tamed our hearts
with science's steely logic
and we boast about efficient
techno-magic.
Too much giving way
to machine's domination,
we may end up the slaves
of our own invention!
Invention is a blinded thing,
solving existence with the existing,
Its mirror stands invisible
and its problems are quizzical,
but yet we surround in its splendour,
thanks to the legacy of the inventor.
Last night I dreamt of something cool
That I would soon invent
This morning I could not recall
Just where that idea went
I’ve racked my brain to find it
And this I will concede
It currently does not exist
But was a thing you need
It made that one task easier
And definitely less tougher
It would be priced at cheap enough
A perfect stocking stuffer
I’ve spent all morning thinking
And now its almost noon
So maybe if I’ll take a nap
I will invent it soon!
The clock of my mind stopped in 1897.
it is always late autumn
and we dress mostly in grey
steam locomotive whistles
daily puncture our thought balloons
my teacher once said:
Boy, consider the rectangle,
source of all progress.
forty days and forty nights
forty shekels and forty cubits
and thirty pieces of silver
the number of mosquitoes
skating on the rain barrel
a marching panorama
of numbered cards
sometimes, a Joker!
a fire or a drunken brawl