Best Patents Poems
Evidence cannot and will not be denied
When there is concrete evidence on a computer,
Or from photos, or slides or testing or patents;
That is what it is!
Call it disinformation all that you want
To cave into that is letting denial take over
And putting you and your loved ones at risk!
To avoid researching, when lies spread like wildfire is reckless
Lives are on the line and this is the reality we face
Unity is needed at a dangerous time like this
Truth is the blazing torch to light the way
New things are thrown at us every single day
If you want peace, courage, love and healing,
Acknowledgement is the only way!
Heidi Sands
4/30/22
As you cruise along the interstate in your ultra-sleek sedan,
You should ever keep in mind a little-known engineering man.
His name is Ralph Teetor, inventor of a device called cruise control.
Perfecting the auto for the comfort of the public was his lifetime goal!
At the tender age of twelve, the budding genius built a full-sized car!
He graduated from the University of Pennsylvania as an engineering star!
He moved to Hagerstown, Indiana, which is my old hometown as well.
There, he founded Perfect Circle Piston Ring Company for many years to dwell.
Ralph was annoyed by the auto's lurching, gas guzzling driving habits.
It reminded him of the hopping, loping attributes of irrational rabbits!
In the basement of his home he spent hours tinkering with his invention.
Cadillac first installed cruise control when it was brought to their attention!
He received numerous honors and patents during his creative lifetime,
Making driving for the traveling public more pleasurable and sublime.
'Twas truly remarkable the many accomplishments he was to contrive,
Since he was blinded due to an unfortunate accident at the age of five!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Received
Experiment, the worth of kings,
no bonafide adventuring
not impinge, glory, noticing,
the trial of "over" ~ SING, BUT SING!
And over, 'til the mode be right,
that last decision, still up tight.
I've felt it oft, all nerves on edge,
have gone too far, my reasons dredge!
It is Inventing, cant resign,
the pulse of difference is my rhyme,
I'll just dive in, for one more time,
then still dig in, this idea's mine!
What closer skill can Man divine,
than right to change, with purpose fine,
not to relinquish my own kind
but build with vision, some new find!
To heal some soul . . . . from mortal bind!
Working with Inventors from the Midwest, some Immigrants, some of the ideas we saw become developed were ~ The radial tire, the round swing, round hay bale,
vise-grip, portable phone, highway breakers, tarps for Semis, ethanol plants, water cleaning equipment, faux diamonds, negative ion air machines, compost ideas, turn signals for autos. We worked on Patents in Omaha, Nebraska ~ Inventors from Denmark, etc. Ideas built America, Corporations like Sears Roebuck, helped the little guy. Let's get America back to those "ideals!"
Besotted winged pollinators
roistering barrage drowned
amidst general insectivorous cacophony
indistinct auditory signals communicated
intermingled with bounteous wafting fragrance
midwifed edenic floral pullulation
sensate admixture viz colored spectrum
amidst unrehearsed extemporaneous
orchestral suite bedded lambs
amorous ewe man like bleating songs
nature all aflutter actively socially vociferating
profuse living color rainbow pastiche
teeming soundgarden smorgasbord
cornucopia ignites mordent Utopian aural swath
visual vistas stilling spellbinding
spilling riotous carpeted web
uniting doubting Thomas's existentialism
despite unanswered queries
asper diverse modalities each specie evolved
to survive despite countervailing destructive forces
generating plethora pandemonium ironically
promulgating harmonic exemplary convergence
Highland Manor concourse aflame with new life
parented by instinctive imprimatur anonymous patents
now genetic mapping usurped with untold outcome
analysis bred crispr discovery Earthlings fiddling
glorifies honied indemnity Judeo-Christian kudos
leaves of grass kudzo resistance mutation immunizes
biosphere once prolific differentiation shrinks
becoming monocultural setting virtual stage
catastrophe plus food shortage would become
global debacle predicated, sans virulent
viral and/or bacterial strain renting asunder
tripwire unspooling delicate webbed whirl
already widely compromised more so
since Rachel Carson wrote Silent Spring
*****sapiens population explosion
pits profligate predilections planet Earth in extremis
dire crisis cavalierly dismissed humans
in hot pursuit racking up superfluous wealth
dirty deeds done dirt cheap - tricking
mother nature, who will unwittingly
spring scrumptious feeding off scrimmage
forcing capitulation or total extinction
meanwhile fostering long tall floral inflorescence
a composite having sessile flowers
apiary abuzz, cuz queen bee
can no longer wax bereft of royal jelly.
Tesla what in the hell did they do to you.
They stole your ideas and then they left you,
Sitting with nothing they stole your dreams.
They took your gadgets and your machines.
Edison admitted he should not have let you go.
The biggest mistake that he would ever know.
At the 1893 Worlds Fair your talent shined.
When you lit up the world with your light design.
You and Westinghouse were quite a team.
Going to build a Power Plant till gold convened.
The richest man in America he took control.
In this venture J. P. Morgan played the title role.
You had almost 300 patents in your name.
Most of them would be unrecognized with no acclaim.
It would be a few more years before you are known.
For contributions that were your own.
So Mr Nikola Tesla here’s to you.
The fame you would receive you never knew.
I guess better late than never I hope Edison knows.
The spoils of the battle to the victor goes.
Recalled that you emerge from the womb of your mother land,
Reared up by that mother land,
Now calling that land mad,
Admiring the land of abroad,
Are you really a progeny of your mother land?
Calling your mother land good for nothing,
Without questing for its merits,
Playing havoc with the feeder of your mother land,
Robbing it as ruthlessly as the heinous plunderer,
Are you really a progeny of your mother land?
Renowned is my motherland
As the abode of all sciences and Vedas,
As the witness of a many golden era,
As the traversed of a many world of knowledge,
Calling such land good for nothing,
Without questing for its merits,
Are you really a progeny of your mother land?
Holding the knowledge of your mother land,
As the trasure-trove by all Nations,
Exploring and researching all sciences
And Vedas of your mother land by other nations,
Their obtaining patents on our sanctified
Herbal plants like Tulasi and Neem,
Fleecing us thereby without any rights,
Questioning then them their patents
By making insane catcalls!!
Are you really a progeny of your mother land?
Squatting silently as you fail
To carp at the way the poison
Creeps into our veins in the form of junk foods
Snapping our spinal columns too are venomous medicines,
Are you really a progeny of your mother land?
Here lies the body of Stanley Meyer
Inventor, salesman, and consummate liar
A brain aneurysm
Might have kept him from prison
Both he and his fuel cell patents expired
----------
https://environment.umn.edu/education/susteducation/stanley-meyer-an-infamous-invention-and-death/
(William Hammer, Thomas Alva Edison's assistant,
has reached the end of his tolerance. His boss is
planning to electrocute an elephant for a publicity
stunt.)
If he goes through with this, the dam has burst.
I'm done with him. Of all the tricks he's pulled,
this is the lowest, cheapest, cruellest. Worst.
Yes, Edison. He can't be serious,
can he? To execute an elephant?
He's out there, grinning like a Barbary ape.
Where two or more newspapermen are gathered,
Alva loses all his self-control.
He'll be there now, perspiring, shouting, lathered,
excited to his flinty, vulgar soul.
I'm William Joseph Hammer. Who are you?
A quarter-century I've spent with him,
but now the scales have fallen from my eyes.
The man's a pirate and a charlatan.
Inventor? Him?
Well, since I'm stranded here
in shabby Coney Island in the rain,
ignored and slighted, spited yet again,
I'll tell you. Edison did not invent
the light bulb - that's what he employed me for.
Besides, I'll name a dozen scientists
who'd made a working lamp some years before.
What is he good at? He's a patent-mill!
He takes out patents like a dentist, teeth
(except that dentists never put their name
on what they've pulled). The man has got no shame.
The team has all the talent, he the grin:
we think the thoughts, and Alva cashes in.
I think he's met his match in Westinghouse.
The so-called war of currents. Who will win?
America will buy one set of goods,
and where this country leads, the others go.
To get his system in American homes,
He'd kill his grandma.
Hence this all-time low.
He's worse than Czolgosz. At the very least,
the latter had nobility, although
misguided. Alva has no other cause
beyond himself. Those motion picture-things
are here for Alva's glory. When the blow
extinguishes that poor beast's life, you'll know
whose self-promoting hand was on the tiller.
Saint Thomas Alva Edison's a killer.
When my nana first moved in,
I thought it would be terrible.
I figured that living with someone who has Alzheimer’s,
Would be hard to deal with.
And it is,
But not for the reason I thought it would be.
It’s hard seeing the mind of someone so smart,
Turn into a mind similar to a child.
It’s hard seeing her like this.
It’s hard knowing that she will never be the same.
She used to be brilliant,
The head nurse at Sick Kids Hospital in Toronto.
But now,
Now she’s at the same mind level as the patents she once had.
She walks around everyday,
Not knowing what’s going on.
She gets sad sometimes,
And doesn’t know why.
She finds some little things amusing,
And others annoying.
She used to be so stylish,
But now she’s all mix and match.
When you live with someone with Alzheimer’s,
You must remember to be patient.
Their minds work as if a big ball of yarn,
And when a string gets pulled,
They put something there to replace it.
Most of the time it does not make any sense,
But once in a while they replace it with the right word or two.
Imagine if everything you knew,
Just disappeared.
Imagine if everyone you loved,
Just went away.
Imagine if all your emotions,
Just came all at once.
Imagine if your entire world,
Was turned upside down.
Well that’s exactly how someone with Alzheimer’s feels.
I didn’t understand how hard it would be,
To see her everyday living like this.
I didn’t understand what it meant to have Alzheimer’s,
Until now.
I didn’t understand the full extent Alzheimer’s has on the mind,
And on the body.
I just simply didn’t understand,
And I still don’t.
I don’t know everything there is to know,
But I do know a lot more then I did before.
There is so much more to learn,
And I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.
Patradoot or The Messenger 8/Many
English version by
Ravindra K Kapoor
Enchanting beauty of nature,
Would unfold its charms, on your way,
When you would take my hearts message,
For the most lovely child of the creator, my beloved.
Ravindra
Kanpur India. 15th May 2010 to continue in 9
Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections
Background of this Epic
The Patradoot was written originally by my later father
Dr.Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932. He had joined India’s
Freedom struggle in 1920 on the call of Mahatma Gandhi.
From 1920 till 1947 (India got freedom in 15th Aug. 1947)
my father was in active movement as Congressman and
Gandhi’s non violent soldier. For many a time he was
imprisoned for many months to more than a years sometimes.
During one such imprisonment he wrote this epic and sent
it to my mother secretly as a gift for her and to get it printed
and circulated among the masses to create awareness for
India’s freedom. The book was printed by my mother in
Hindi and some of this epic was circulated also, but the
British confiscated the book and press of my father around
1933. I was born in 1950 in a free India. I am trying to bring
this great writing of my father in English which portrays more
than the translation of the epic, so the world may
come to know about this otherwise lost and forgotten great
great epic and the sacrifices of my patents towards India’s
freedom struggle.
Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor left active politics after 1947
and devoted rest of his life in
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas,
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990.
He left this mortal world in 1994. Unfortunately many of his
World class work could not be published so far and Patradoot
is one of them.
Ravindra
Transliteration of Hindi poem in English- Patradoot or the Messenger.
Prakriti Mugdha Sunderta ke,
Mug Mai Nav Drashaya Suhayenge,
Le Kur Priya Dhing Hirdraya Sandesha,
Jub Tu Mera Gayega.
Patradoot in Hindi written by
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections
Patradoot or The Messenger 5/Many
English version by
Ravindra K Kapoor
If there wicked hands will ever catch you,
Your body will be mutilated in pieces,
And then, you would never be able to see,
My beloved to convey my message, dear letter.
Ravindra
Kanpur India. 13th May 2010 to continue in 6
Background of this Epic
The Patradoot was written originally by my late father
Dr.Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932. He had joined India’s
Freedom struggle in 1920 on the call of Mahatma Gandhi.
From 1920 till 1947 (India became free in 1947)
my father was in active movement as Congressman &
Gandhi’s non-violent soldier. For many times he was
imprisoned for many months and sometime, even for more
than a year. He dedicated the entire writing work to his
dear wife, my late mother, who was also a co-partner with
him in the freedom struggle in creating mass awareness.
During one such imprisonment at Faizabad jail, he wrote
this epic and sent it to my mother secretly as a gift for her
and to get it printed & circulated among the masses to
create awareness for India’s freedom. The book was
printed by my mother in Hindi and some of this epic were
circulated also, but the British confiscated the book and the
press of my father around 1933. I was born in 1950 in a free
India. I am trying to bring this great writing of my father in
English which portrays more than the translation of the epic,
so the world may come to know about this otherwise lost
and forgotten great great writing and the sacrifices of my
patents towards India’s freedom struggle.
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor left active politics after 1947
and devoted rest of his life in writing easy mass literature
and wrote many Dramas, Poetry books, epics etc. All his
other literary works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990.
He left this mortal world in 1994. Unfortunately many of his
World class works could not be published so far and Patradoot
is one of them.
Ravindra
Transliteration of Hindi poem in English- Patradoot or the Messenger.
Kutil Kuron Me Pur Kur Unke,
Aunga Bhunga Ho Jayega,
Purna Roop Se Priya Darshan Ko,
Phir Tu Kabhi Na Payega.
Patradoot in Hindi written by
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections
My mistress' eyes are nothing like a 40
Watt full spectrum LED bulb;
Doritos are far more red than her lips' red;
If Teslas be white, why then her organs for nourishing babies are dun;
If hairs be USB cables, USB cables grow on her head.
I have seen Monsanto patents damasked, red and white,
But no such intellectual property see I in her cheeks;
And in some volatile aerosols is there more delight
Than in the exhalation that from my mistress is unmentionably unpleasant.
I love to hear her powerful voice, yet well I know
That WAP hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go (except when I became too old for parental controls)
My mistress, when she stalks, kneads the earth like a cat.
And yet, by Hubble’s image of The Pillars of Creation, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.
Contest: Parody of a famous poem
Sponsor: L. Milton Hankins
Dec 21 2020
Patradoot or The Messenger 3/Many
Originally written in Hindi by my late
father Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
English version by Ravindra K Kapoor
The moment you will hear, the voice of my heart,
You will become pious, like the showering raindrops,
Taking shapes from my expressions,
To shower the rains of Love, on my beloved’s heated heart.
Ravindra
Kanpur India. 11th May 2010 to continue in 4
Transliteration of Hindi poem in English- Patradoot or the Messenger.
Sunte Hi Sangeet Hradaya Ka,
Tu Pavitra Ho Jayega,
Udgaron Ka Rup Dharega,
Prem Virsti Burseyega.
By Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
Freedom Fighter and writer, Poet & Dramatist
(1889-1994)
Background of this Epic
The Patradoot was written originally by my later father
Dr.Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932. He had joined India’s
Freedom struggle in 1920 on the call of Mahatma Gandhi.
From 1920 till 1947 (India got freedom in 15th Aug. 1947)
my father was in active movement as Congressman and
Gandhi’s non violent soldier. For many a time he was
imprisoned for many months to more than a years sometimes.
During one such imprisonment he wrote this epic and sent
it to my mother secretly as a gift for her and to get it printed
and circulated among the masses to create awareness for
India’s freedom. The book was printed by my mother in
Hindi and some of this epic was circulated also, but the
British confiscated the book and press of my father around
1933. I was born in 1950 in a free India. I am trying to bring
this great writing of my father in English which portrays more
than the translation of the epic, so the world may
come to know about this otherwise lost and forgotten great
great epic and the sacrifices of my patents towards India’s
freedom struggle.
Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor left active politics after 1947
and devoted rest of his life in
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas,
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990.
He left this mortal world in 1994. Unfortunately many of his
World class work could not be published so far and Patradoot
is one of them.
Ravindra
Patradoot or The Messenger 7/Many
English version by
Ravindra K Kapoor
On your way, you would witness and see,
Alluring scenes and sceneries all around the way,
Spreading their charms to allure your mind,
They would keep fascinating your heart, on your way.
Ravindra
Kanpur India. 14th May 2010 to continue in 7
Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections
Background of this Epic
The Patradoot was written originally by my late father
Dr.Amar Nath Kapoor in 1932. He had joined India’s
Freedom struggle in 1920 on the call of Mahatma Gandhi.
From 1920 till 1947 (India got freedom on 15th Aug. 1947)
my father was in active movement as Congressman and
Gandhi’s non violent soldier. For many a time he was
imprisoned for many months to more than a years sometimes.
During one such imprisonment he wrote this epic and sent
it to my mother secretly as a gift for her and to get it printed
and circulated among the masses to create awareness for
India’s freedom. The book was printed by my mother in
Hindi and some of this epic was circulated also, but the
British confiscated the book and press of my father around
1933. I was born in 1950 in a free India. I am trying to bring
this great writing of my father in English which portrays more
than the translation of the epic, so the world may
come to know about this otherwise lost and forgotten great
great epic and the sacrifices of my patents towards India’s
freedom struggle.
Gandhi Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor left active politics after 1947
and devoted rest of his life in
writing easy mass literature and wrote many Dramas,
Poetry books, epics. All his other literary
works were mainly written from 1955 to 1990.
He left this mortal world in 1994. Unfortunately many of his
World class work could not be published so far and Patradoot
is one of them.
Ravindra
Transliteration of Hindi poem in English- Patradoot or the Messenger.
Bhati Bhati Ke Drishya Marg Mai,
Audbhut Chata Dhikhayege,
Nig Anupam Sobha Se Tera,
Hardaya Lubhate Gayenge.
Patradoot in Hindi written by
Dr. Amar Nath Kapoor
Protected as per Poetry Soup’s copy write protections
I plead the fifth!
Rhymes with no sniff
Nosed clogged Ben Gay spade with no shifts
Pace makers tripped wires
Remit
Remake takes patents to skin drifts
Power ranged a game with low lifts
Tires rims shine made drift
Blinds closed with long sticks
Brick houses with no bricks
Framed same found day shun with steel trip
Wires hang dancers give
Beauty baked lashes give rip
Maybeline lined lip
Color shadow followed him
Made created a land with give gifts
Transparent pulled out of bounds balls bounce do drifts
Out strike title stripped
Sterilize steroids with no stick
Big boned with mild tones sounds
Without Biz
Bone Thug great hit
Smashed charts with no
Ozzie remake with slick
Hiding lights with strike back
Big rims Cadillac
Heavy Chevy comes back
Nova stars mobilized
Ride click tight riding high
Bean pies French fries
Filled with no lies
Mouth covered
Say nothing
Snitch out
Been made!