Best Keypad Poems
Daddy was… I don’t even remember but he wasn’t there
I don’t even remember why you were so angry
I got back home that night and my dog was lying in front of the garage
AT NIGHT in front of the garage!
I dial the keypad to get in the house but the door was locked and you took the key from its place so I couldn’t get in
I rang the doorbell
Knocked on the door
Rang the doorbell
Knocked on the door
But I didn’t make a scene
I carried my dog to the door on the fence, climbed over the fence, let my dog in and looked through the sliding glass door
You were asleep
I’m very happy for everybody that the sliding glass door wasn’t locked
I get inside and noticed you were passed out drunk!
The Grey Goose revealed it all
I kissed my dog goodnight, gave him a treat and BOUNCED
With YOUR keys and YOUR car
I’m so fed up I’m just SO fed up
The Bible says honor thy mother and father it doesn’t mention son and daughter
BOLOGNA if you ask me
NO child begged to be a part of this planet!
What does honor mean anyway?
Webster says merited respect… okay so maybe it’s not bologna!
I canNOT stop replaying my past
You are still here!
You are from the past!
I have let go but when you dig it up and throw it in my face
I pick it back up!
I try to be strong
I really do and EVERYONE notices I’ve made great improvements
You’re one of the people who’s praised me!
I’ve been having these occasional fluttering sensations in my heart for the past few years that I’ve mentioned to you recently
I still haven’t gone to the doctor
Neither of us will forget that time I was crying on the phone to Linnel about the two guys raping my semiconscious body and you busted in my room and said, “I hope your p____ fall’s off”
I can’t forget that time I confided in you about an unusual discharge and you said, “I’m just gonna let you suffer…”
Thanks for eventually taking me to go get tested but why did you have to say that?
I felt bad enough
Very true, Mom, I don’t have any friends…
I’m not even sure if I’m in excellent health and that I’ll make it many more years
Still, while I’m here
I just want to be able to help my people… somehow
** A Poetry Avalanche **
Goodness! Lord!
I’m on a roll this morning!
The poetry keeps coming —
nearly torturing!
My keypad arm and fingers are
alrady so tired…
It’s as if
The address of poetry were
On fire!
— With every poem present there
retreating
From the inspirations wrought from
burning memories, preferring
The refreshing lure of
allegories and fairy tales
to aid my creating.
There are still three more hours
Marked off in my planner to turn
Words into exemplary verses.
However, ink now covers every page
Printed out, such that all my papers
appear all scribbled and smeared.
So, I’ve quit scrawling in this diary
And brought my markers out, to kneel
Down here and write
All over
Across our living room’s floor!
————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 6/27/2023
I know this lovely poet,
Her name is Ann Gilmour
She really is an angel,
One that I adore.
She's a best friend of my Auntie,
They have a lot in common,
Parkinson's being one of them
Which is really rather rotten
(Life's not fair)
I first met Ann in February,
At Auntie Liz's seventy
And invited her to come and visit me,
When I found her cousin lives so close you see.
Then I went to Eastbourne,
Ann lives right beside the sea,
In a beautiful penthouse way up high
With stunning views of sea and sky.
It really was pretty.
Now last week whilst I was walking
My dog's Treacle, Bar and Ro
I had to climb a five bar gate
Which proved to be a big mistake
(As someone had removed it from it's hinges)
And over I did go.
I heard my bone snap in my wrist
The pain was so severe
I was soon rescued by my sis
Who was thankfully driving near.
When next morning Ann heard of my plight
She put pen to paper and began to write,
(Or it may have been fingers to keypad!)
"To Restore Your Equilibrium"
A poem written for me,
Entered in to Dear Hearts contest
And got a fourth place win I see.
(Yay congratulations Ann!)
Ann has checked up on my progress
With emails full of virtual hugs
That have brightened up my day
More than any painkilling drugs!
While chatting via the internet
I was getting in such a sweat,
I had a wedding to attend
Of my daughter Lucy's oldest friend
But how would I put on my face
Or get in my Spanx to hold it all in place.
Then Ann soon came up with a rhyme
As witty as can be to
"Celebrate Your Wobbly Bits"
Not to worry how your outfit sits
And let it all hang free.
They say that laughter is the best medicine
I can tell you it is true
It took my mind away from pain
Made me want to write again
(difficult with my non dominant hand)
A little poem just for Ann
To say a BIG THANK YOU.
Hugs and kisses dearest Ann.
A teacher taught many years ago
theres no gold at the end of a rainbow.
The gold you seek is there for all to see
its within you and its within me.
Kindness and compassion are the key
Im sure you will agree.
A friendly word,a helping hand
a letter a text that would be grand.
Hold my hand wipe away my tears
show me how you truly care.
Speak words that cause joy not harm
always,always try to charm
And this world will be a better place
if more people just embrace
So share a hug, swap a smile
you will find it most worthwhile.
Now just follow me
and you will see .
PRESS alt, hold it down and the number 3 on the keypad on the righthand side of the keyboard (windows ) place your cursor in the address bar at the end before you try it
A precious gift from me .
The Wakening World
A new world spins kaleidoscopic, a whorl of color in revolt.
Oceans quake, molding into fissures of tectonic hunger,
ravaging the deep, stirring the primal need depressing
populations unseen to the denizens of land, left in man’s wake.
From diatom, to whale, from single cell, to open hand
from sun, to star, to mushroom bomb, we have light.
Within the orb of eye, retinal flares of light
an inside-out, upside-down, yin and yang revolution;
juxtaposing wealth with poverty, throngs rise asking for hand-
outs, aching with a human need to know, hungering.
Childhood ends as the predestined ouroboros wakes.
Death’s rattle subsides, as head eats the tail of depression.
Communication becomes the global antidepressant.
Aborigines in Australian huts and Inuit in igloos see the light.
There will be no holding back the tide, for hand in hand, cells wake.
No longer can knowledge be held. “Phone home,” a revolutionary
cry, the breast will not be ripped from the lips of hungering
humanity, tyrant and saint will be juxtaposed, their time at hand.
Instant contact scrapes the barnacles of blight handily.
The stroke of fingertip to keyboard or keypad depressed
sends ignorance fleeing, freeing the knowledge hungry;
showing the way out, the way up, the key. Light-heartedly
heads bow in prayer, the we will rock you will revolt.
Let tyranny be eaten, and righteousness wake.
On the egg of earth, we float in celestial wakes.
Solar tides stir the shards of glass raising death’s hand.
Round and round the top spins each revolution
forced by the pumping thump of nuclear rods depressed,
rods magnetized or charged with lightening
will energize the populous for we all hunger.
Evolution brings revolution, each thirst quenched brings new hunger.
Repression will never depress the desire to wake,
nor, will the fisted hand ever bring the light.
I set out lookin' fer some way to scribe,
that wer' a different, en catch yarn ear
Well first I'd try, 'ee hollerin' a rhyme,
with all CAPS, this only brought er tear,
This started me a thinkin' too look
elce-where, excep', per'aps this prose
isn't fer me, many have written 'ay book'
I'll need my style, somethin' too share
Sure fer this, they will laugh till they pee,
wouldn't it be a blessin', in this puddle
of tryin', findin' a style suited, right fer me
per'aps I'll be better off, an only doodle
keepin' this in mind, I started, I writ'
writ', en rewrit', like ne're before,
poundin' on my KeyPad, till all fingers,
akein' back, big butt twer'z bone sore,
So, If only I could catch er great line
if it wer' different, silly, too catch one's eye
I'd show 'em, too smile, durin' my life time
attain fame, per'aps, er piece of 'ee pie
“Hello, and thank you for calling Acme Products! Please listen to the following selections as our menu options changed 5 years ago and we want to make sure you have them memorized.
If you need help with billing, press 1.”
silence
“Are you sure you don't need help with billing? We have such nice people in our billing department.”
“Operator.”
“No can do. The system requires entering your selections via the keypad. Please repeat your request.”
G R R R R
“Well, if you're sure you don't want billing, press 2 for a listing of all our latest products.”
0 0 0 0 0 0
“That is an invalid selection.”
“Aaaiiieeeeeeeeeee.”
"You know, you really should take a look at our newest products."
N O N O N O
“Please remember to listen carefully as our options changed 5 years ago. For assistance with complaints on an already-purchased item”
3
“Invalid selection. Try again. For assistance with complaints on an already”
4
“I'm sorry. Input not understood. For billing, press 1. To hear about our newest products, press 2. For customer service on existing orders, press 4.”
4 4 4
“Thank you. If you did not receive your order, press 5. If you have a complaint about your order, press 6.”
I fyk djgm Acme Products. 6
“Please remember to use the keypad to enter your selections. If the complaint is about a box damaged in shipment, press 7.”
silence
"If you received your item but it is defective press”
8
“Please enter your name using the telephone keypad.”
W I L E E X O Y O T E
“Please reenter your name.”
W I L E E I H A T E A C M E C O Y O T E
“Customer 'I hate Acme' not found. Please try again. Please enter your name using the keypad on your phone.”
W I L E E C O Y O T E
“Thank you.
For questions related to Acme Invisible Paint, press 9.
For questions regarding the Acme Do-It-Yourself Rocket Sled Kit, press 10.
For questions regarding Acme Iron Bird Seed, press”
11
“Sorry. That is not a valid entry.”
K I # L L A * C M E
“Sorry. That is not a valid entry.”
“For questions regarding Acme Iron Bird Seed, hang up and dial 1-800-555-1212. Have a nice day and thank you for calling Acme Products. We appreciate your business.”
crack crunch shatter
signal lost
A gang of outsiders
say they gonna reform the government,
with a bad boy at the helm
Juvenile adolescents,
at Constitutional reform school,
are gonna be running everything
Say what!
You heard it right ...
No he didn’t!
Yeah, bad boy started that tweet fight
Wrong characters on the keypad
reformatting the geopolitical template
Tear down global trade love,
build up more isolationist hate
Lord of the Flies now running everything,
oh what a pitiful sight
Draining the political swamp
takes a lot of integrity and oversight
Too bad this reform school
don’t hold ethic classes at night
Martin Luther wannabes
ain’t offering no Reformation guarantees
Donar class protest rallies
organized by corporate gangster hierarchy
Palace espionage intrigue —
Infiltrator spies, so sneaky
Say what!
You heard it right ...
No he didn’t!
Yeah, bad boy started another tweet fight
Inmates are now running the asylum,
reform looks like crazy change
The bad boy Joker with the maniacal smile
is tearing down the norms of society all the while
A gang of outsiders doing an inside job,
the treasury is being looted and robbed ...
so please don’t turn the satellite dial
Cover story is fake news scorn
Broadcast reform: say it proud, say it loud
Crazy is the new norm,
and profane is the acid rain
pouring from the reform cloud
It was rain, rain, raining
on the outsiders’ Inaugural parade
And it’s been raining ever since
Tracking reform muddy puddles
into the White House Oval room
Bad boy and his inept buddies
got a reform platform that spells doom
Say what!
You heard it right ...
No he didn’t!
Yeah, bad boy was tweet fighting again at night
Said he is a chaos agent,
but he ain’t yet got smart
Said sewer reform is nasty business:
you need bankrupt morals and an empty heart
Gutter reform is looking reaper grim,
hanging over the nation like a deadly pall
Deconstruct democracy on a whim,
take another liberty brick out of the wall
Piece by piece, bit by bit ...
until that Constitutional school crumble and fall
Finding a new phone case you want
Didn’t even get a follow back on
DVT HR in a while ago but
Thrift store in a while ago but
Ends with the new version is better
Ended my life and the rest of
Dusty to be the first half of
4/9/16
In case you're wondering:
DVT = Deep vein thrombosis
HR = Heart rate
This poem was constructed in the following manner: I closed my eyes and hit my iPhone text keypad five times, then hit "autocorrect" to get the first word. The next 6 words of each line were the first suggested word by the iPhone text program. Pure randomness, inspired by the random word orderer found in Gulliver's Travels:
"Every one knew how laborious the usual method is of attaining to arts and sciences; whereas, by his contrivance, the most ignorant person, at a reasonable charge, and with a little bodily labour, might write books in philosophy, poetry, politics, laws, mathematics, and theology, without the least assistance from genius or study." He then led me to the frame, about the sides, whereof all his pupils stood in ranks. It was twenty feet square, placed in the middle of the room. The superfices was composed of several bits of wood, about the bigness of a die, but some larger than others. They were all linked together by slender wires. These bits of wood were covered, on every square, with paper pasted on them; and on these papers were written all the words of their language, in their several moods, tenses, and declensions; but without any order. The professor then desired me "to observe; for he was going to set his engine at work." The pupils, at his command, took each of them hold of an iron handle, whereof there were forty fixed round the edges of the frame; and giving them a sudden turn, the whole disposition of the words was entirely changed. He then commanded six-and-thirty of the lads, to read the several lines softly, as they appeared upon the frame; and where they found three or four words together that might make part of a sentence, they dictated to the four remaining boys, who were scribes. This work was repeated three or four times, and at every turn, the engine was so contrived, that the words shifted into new places, as the square bits of wood moved upside down."--Jonathan Swift, Gulliver's Travels, Part 3, Chapter 5
A fresh college graduate looking for a job
To undergo trials one of which is the typing test
Handed over a text passage to pound on the keypad
Typing 40 to 50 words per minute, I needed to press
Facing a manual typewriter, rested fingers to home keys
Try to feel the small bumps on the F and J keys
Now confident, curled fingers to position strategically
Hoping to type the text reflexively
Altering the upper and lower case, pinky fingers strike shift keys
Reaching the number keys on upper level makes it fiddly
Pressing the keys very hard to swing the type-bar up
The carriage travels to the far right sluggishly
Leaving an imprint of the characters
I was whisked away by my disappointment
Never repeat same fate in front of a manual typewriter
The rhythm goes with each keystroke adapting to its component
The next day I saw a Remington typewriter
So old that typebars entangled so often
Curious to type words, always an attempter
At its clickety-clack sound, a relic of a bygone age
15 May 2013
Experienced a third bigger earthquake recently but this poem I wrote for a smaller earthquake years ago)
My first trivial tremor experience had been in Southern Africa
And now this puny earthquake I felt in Tanzania.
I saw every thing waltz to and fro and lightly shake
Bottles turned ballerinas dancing slightly to the quake
I watched glass decors on the walls quiver and jolt
Scaredy me was half asleep, no wonder didn't bolt
I thought I was dreaming or imagining things
My bed and chairs converted into gentle swings.
All vials and vases
jiggled to dance a jig
The lil horrors over
So I cast humor's wig
Ah when began rattling, the knick knacks on my dresser
Was when it dawned upon me in horror
That this was really an early dawn tremor.
I phoned some friends but those early risers
Hadn't even noticed or felt those tremors
I bet they thought I was spreading false rumours
After all poets are stereotyped as fanciful philosophers.
My cell phone keypad became my panic button in a flurry
Of course I wanted all to be alerted, alarmed in worry
Nobody believed me until it was announced in our mosque
And every body was then called by muezzin to pray the signs prayers
Then every body knew the tremor was no hoax
Some patted me for being the first to notice this shaking of earthly layers
Of course I thanked God this was no major earthquake
I've heard in other places how terribly the earth can crack and shake
Who else but God could I owe my heartfelt gratitude
For this being my 2nd low power tremor in magnitude
As it measured low on the Richter scale
based on the seismic waves' amplitude
But the earth was shaken and I too was shaken
No pics of the shivering axis were taken
Todate runs down my spine such a shiver
On recalling how the mother earth did quiver
I have seen videos of earthquakes where the earth juggles things
like a salt shaker
May God protect us from such a waker and breaker
I
Write
I Write
I Choose to Write
Because in writing I can share feelings never felt
In writing I can live dreams dreamt
In writing I express emotions felt and feared
I can feel high, no need for weed
Just sincere expressions only expressed through my thought to my fingertips
For every pain U caused me, I just choose to write
Because in writing, I release my uncontrollable anger
And offend no one, just a pad, a keypad, my keyboard and my touch screen
I
Wrote
I wrote of my victories and failures
Wrote about those sweet times
The bitter sweet
The ugly
Ups and Down
Rejections
Appreciations
Heartbreaks
Breakthroughs
I wrote in an attempt to fix the wrong
Even though I have never been right
So for all these moments I kept writing
And I wrote
And narrowed my pain to none
Just a Pad, a keypad, my keyboard and my touch screen
I have Written
And for all those moments I wrote
I built a virtual relationship with myself
In writing , I shared my pain
Celebrated my gains
The Rise and fall
And how I kept rising after every fall
All this I shared
With none but myself
I have written
Because I wrote
And I would write
Because,
I just choose to Write.....
8/3/17
"
Dealt the hands of fate
A dollar short and day too late
Checkmate
Your ship is sank
Grab you by your cape
With haste
Then followed yellow tape
And not a single trace
Looked them in their face
Then put them in their place
Those who instigate
And discriminate
I eliminate
Same with if any that imitate
And implicate
Then toward them I liquidate
My eye on people when they manipulate
And vitiate
I'm ready to assassinate
Let me articulate
I'm out to innovate
And assimilate
Don't make me reiterate
Before I dissipate
What better time is there to illustrate?
The great escape
And great debate
Lifting and pushing weight
Willing to undertake
It's all there to make
Lock it away in a safe
And put the rest in the bank
Keep a full gas tank
And work hard toward having an estate
With a keypad at the gate
As well as a pool the size of a lake
Home made cake
Veggies and meats barbequed or baked
Filling up the plate, with or without lobster and steak
An ever increasing rise in the birth rate
Music from the speakers rattling windows like an earthquake
Success on the first take
The blunt was rolled well and burned great
In the past seeds beginning to germinate
Then a certain scent started to permeate
Avoid all the drama
Got to add up more commas
Burning through potent ganja
If I gotta I wanna beat the case
Until the case is beat
They can take a seat
Because it all ended up being a waste
Of time and quite the disgrace
On the chase
A near endless race
Barely ever hitting the brakes
Picking up the pace
Got to get first instead of last place
From here on ground level or up in space
Too transparent and opaque
Not going to shake
The hand of any snake
Or flake
Got to keep the faith
One day ill buy or test drive a wraith
I OPENED A DOOR AND REALIZED.
BEYOND WAS AN ELEVATOR.
CURIOUS WHERE IT WENT
I BECAME THE INVESTIGATOR.
WITH THE HELP OF A MENTAL KEYPAD.
I ENTERED A DATE AND TIME.
I WAS LOOKING FORWARD
TO LEARN WHAT WAS LEFT BEHIND.
A HUNDRED YEARS INTO THE FUTURE
OR A HUNDRED YEARS INTO THE PAST
TRAVELING FORTH AND BACK IN TIME
IS GIFT THAT WILL FOREVER LAST
TO UNDERSTAND WHERE YOU'RE GOING.
SO OTHERS , UNDERSTAND WHERE YOU'VE BEEN.
A DESCRIPTION OF THIS MOMENT
IS A VIEW OF WHAT HAPPENED
BACK WHEN.
SEND YOUR MESSAGE FORWARD
OR LEAVE A MESSAGE BEHIND.
ONCE A MESSAGE WAS BURNT INTO STONE.
TO STAND THE TEST OF TIME..
PORTRAITS WERE PAINTED LONG AGO
AND WITH THEY TELL A STORY.
SOME WILL LOOK AND UNDERSTAND
AND SEE THE DAYS OF GLORY.
A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE
WHAT WILL OTHERS SEE
DEPENDING ON MY WRITINGS
I CAN ONLY HOPE IT'S ME.
SOME WILL SEE THE VISIONS
SOME WILL SHARE THE THOUGHT
SOME WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND
AND IGNORE WHAT IS BEING TAUGHT.
THE UNIVERSE CONTINUES GROWING.
WE ARE THE CREATORS OF TIME.
CONNECTING TO THE UNIVERSE
IS THE CONNECTION BETWEEN OUR MINDS.
ANYTHING YOU WANT IN LIFE
STARTS WITH THOUGHT AND VISION.
HOW YOU LEAVE IT ALL BEHIND
REQUIRES THE GREAT DECISION.
ELEVATED CONSCIOUSNESS
A ROADMAP INSIDE OUR MIND
TRAVELING THROUGHOUT THE UNIVERSE.
WE GO BACK AND FORTH IN TIME.
WE CREATE THE STORY
OF HOW WE LIVE OUR TIME.
WE SHARE IT THROUGH THE UNIVERSE
AND THOSE WITH OPEN MINDS.
Michael E. Harris
09062022
touched your name
tapped a keypad
and frog-like-lilly-leaps
found me
fly-like with
accuracy
after so strong a bound