Best Sensor Poems


Premium Member Gypsies

Gypsies

Across a misty channel
Sensor fingers
Stretch
Through foggy, silent waves
Where two souls embrace
In expeditions of speechless discovery
Two minds stand naked,
Face to face,
With wordless words
Each knowing the inner rhyme 
Of another soul –
Intimate outside skin and limbs.

Across the barriers of minutes, hours, months
Two silent gypsies wander,
Through heartbeats
They stand, then gaze,
Connected to each other -
Escapees of the spoken word;
Outside the limits of ticking clocks
Two hearts touch
And see the signature of yet another
Self
At the address of the not yet arrived,
Undelivered.

Across the minutes and the moonlight
Pushing past the stealthy march of mysteries
Two fugitives flee holding hands 
Leaving footprints
Escaping lines and spaces
Of a calendar;
Two almost strangers stand
At the mystic gates of the unknown -
Today’s unwanted guests
Intruders in tomorrow’s dwelling -
Thieves of time -
Fate’s despoilers.

Across the walls of midnight’s 
Crumbling castles
Two wanderers peer into fleeting glimpses
Briefly understanding
The images and ghosts
Taking shape in the mist undefined;
Two stowaways crouch in secret coves,
Hidden from eyes born into mortality
In the warehouse of the borning
To see and not quite
Understand
Young future’s dance.
	
Across all barriers of time and space
Two gypsies touch outside galaxies to identify
Vague daylight outlines- dim midnight contours - 
Embracing imprints, 
Acknowledgment of events to come -
Words still unspoken;
Two souls run past the morning
Then return in recognition
For they now stand
Outside of themselves -
Vagabonds of facts
Nomads escaping demands for proof in black and white.

Great minds get the memo.

The Narwhal

In the northern hemisphere narwhals grow
With only two teeth you think that’s a poor show
But the prominent one grows into a sword
Breaking through from this creatures’ upper lip jaw
It spirals clockwise up to eight feet
This ivory tusk is quite unique
In the southern hemisphere it grows the opposite way
Counter clockwise biologist state
This tusk is a sensor they use for many things
Sometimes a contest to win mates of their dreams
They use this as a pick to break through the ice
This pointed spear will suffice
It's a very good weapon to ward of danger
In studies it’s also shown as some sort of ranger
It can even detect a change in external situation
Making checks it can pick up on temperature fluctuation
And a chemical analysis this sensor sends waves
It’s connected to this mammals heart and brain
They can slow it down or make it beat fast
This is one awesome creature of the past 
That lives in the ocean deep and dark
A mystical warm blooded whale of the sea
A beautiful unicorn,  you don’t often see 




© Copyright KC.Leake
17th September 2015
All Rights Reserved

For Competition October 15th 2015

Eminem Protege 2

Eminem Protege 2

Don't care what you think
 I need Ten Shrinks an Ten Pens Full Of Ink
 To Let my Inner Wisdom Tink
 Colder Than Ten Penguins In A Rink
 My Spirit Fitness & Physique at it's Peak 
Adrenaline Obese 
Extinguished to Concrete
 Out the Pyramids Extinct 
Into this Physical Dimension as A Sphinx 
Face of a Beast of a Lynx
 Idiot Beliefs placing limited reach 
on my limitless fatigue 
My Old Image Obsolete
 I stole Potion from Ten Witches An Ten Wishes
 from Ten Genies an Ancient Magicians
 an Buried the lamps in the Ditches
 while I summoned Ten Fighting Spirits
 of Venegance as My Apprentices
 I Opened my Sealed Syllabus
 to Reveal my Ventriloquists 
Just left Hells Kitchen with Skin Itching 
with Skin Blisters open Skin Pigments
 Stealing Lucifers Instruments
 to Use them Against Him 
To appear as Glitches
 against the System
 I cook Hot Meals with Mittens 
an make him taste the Illness 
I'm Inventing
 But only an Sample for Interest
 for His Taste Senses
 cause Hells angels can Sensor the Sizzling
 I'm Fly like Ten Twin Pigeons
 with Eagles Precision
 I'm a Scientist but I ain't writing Science Fiction 
with Knowledge that would leave Einstein Winded
 I been Fighting for Living 
100 percent Percentage
 an no less than a Percent difference
 Still Power in my Engine
 to keep the Ignition Driven
 You can't Compare to these Rare Characteristics
 the Judgements from your Conscious 
is InTolerant to my Unresponsive
 Mental Doctrines 
Im use to Antagonist 
Real Hebrew who's a Zionist
 False Prophets who Diabolic an Jewish
 Judaism Created with Iron Fist
 in A Luciferian Science
 of Enlightenment 
Jewish Hybrids Of Pirates
 Stolen Israels Environment
 I ain't Racist
 Just apart of a Nation
 Created
Created Generations to Generations 
Heritage Invaded
 an Culture Undertaken
 Perpetrated
 by The Synagogue of Satanist 
my fire been Penetrated
 the fire in the eye of the Tiger formulated
 stripes on the tiger Blazing
 I'm Judahs Inspiration
 an Judas Envy Craving
 But I'm not Babylons Patriot
 Bablyonion Doom Waiting
 Doomsday
 when the Moon Change
 The Wolf Rage 
Waging Spiritual Shade
 against Ravenous Wolves in Sheeps Wools
 is Game
 Sharpened Tools 
my Sword is Shaped 
Cut open the Wolves
 an Bathe in the Pool 
of Blood til It's Drained 
I'm a Prophet in the Apocalypse


The Get-Away

His hard eyes stared me down
The remnant of a smile
Now a distant memory
It’s funny how the eyes can relate hatred

Out of nothing came a blow
It made me see stars-for how long?
I can’t count but I’m a damn good smell sensor
What I did to deserve that smack, I may never know

I miss my friends from that place
I don’t know what they call it but I remember its smells
Urine, poop, fear, and death
Why did I have to go home with this guy?

It started as soon as I got to his digs
Couldn’t hold it 
There were others here; I could smell them
But they are gone

I used to remember everything
Now it’s a blur
Head smacks all the time
I hate the stars

What a fool
He took me outside and unlatched the spike collar
Took off, full speed 
Not looking back, gonna find another pack

Modern Day World

Technology is rushing forward, mobile phones and such,
Even radios and toasters now turn on without a touch.
Robotic voices on phones will be here very soon,
Replacing NHS as the population booms.
Cars with Bluetooth and sensor controls,
Are better at driving but replace human souls.
We're being sucked in by robotic tornados,
Left vulnerable and dependant as technology grows.
No need for thinking as our minds are now void,
Being replaced by the government's toys.
Everyone's tagged so no place to hide,
You have no business in this modern day tribe.
The government's eye sees all without doubt,
Via the technical gadgets that we cant live without.
Form: Rhyme

For the Love of Poetry

Days arrive days go
January snow
Words shine
In dopamine and oxytocin
In black and white
In figures of delight
Also in colors
In milk and in liquors
The sensor in the prefrontal cortex
Is in a centripetal vortex
Sensitive to the letters
Holds the birds
The imagination tinkers
With their genetic make up
The bird of a tree
Is now in great glee
A bird in a pocket
Flirting with a locket
Poetry in the vicinity
Ephemeral days pulsate
For some moments
Into infinity
Making one psychiatric
For the love of Poetry
--------------------------------------------------
April 6, 2016
FOR THE LOVE OF POETRY- Poetry Contest
Sponsored by : John lawless


Why Won'T You Work For Me

Why don’t you like to work for me?
I’m kind and gentle, not harsh or mean.
I need your help so I can stay clean.
But you won’t work for me!

I’ve seen it before, you work for others.
It’s not too much like cleaning gutters.
The task isn’t hard
I’m not catching you off guard.

STILL NOTHING?
You gotta be joking.

I’m waving my hand all over, right in front of your sensor.
Why wont you work u stupid automatic soap dispenser!
Form: Rhyme

If Only I Had the Courage

If only I had the courage…

Constantia Clinic, 16 December,
A day forever to be remembered.
You last day on this earth,
It was only twenty months and a bit since your day of birth.
Now today six months later I am staring at the ceiling,
Seeking a way out, as there is no healing
I can cry for a hundred years,
You won’t be coming back, no matter my tears.
How do I hold on without letting go?
I am a coward, but the world don’t know.
Why did you have to leave?
I want to follow you but I am too weak!
It is just too hard to live my life again,
If only I had the courage; I would put my story to an end


P.s. While typing these words, I was sitting, crying in my daughter’s room. I was inconsolable. The motion sensor lights switched off, the room was in complete darkness. If only life was that easy; your light switch off if you don’t want to live life. Then I won’t need any courage…

The Virtual Reality of Marble Spoon Pancakes

imagine on your four walls
you have a digital picture frame
all set with the perfect timing
of a roller coaster ride
i know what i would do in myspace

vanishing101

Imagine a round treadmill
a rounded sort of platform
to stand on
and with the sensor hanging around your neck
the floor moves in the direction you face
the timing of the four movie screens coincide
with this picture perfect mindgame

i know what i would do in myspace

vanishing101

an innocent disaster
of a goose chase maze
when it rains it pours
and with the depth perception perfected
the four seasons rotating around you in your own living room

all for you to figure it out
a basement of your own virtual experience
that you will eventually owe me for
cause you know it started here
i know what i would do in myspace

vanishing101

The time machine begins
with your dance dance revolution floor mat
and it carries on with the sensors on the wall
that works your plastic guns
and allow the floor to move if you step toward the screen
always keeping you at bay

enjoy my suicide
day by day
knowing a homeless person
who should be a billionaire
i know what i would do with myspace

vanishing101

Memories For All Times

Memories for All Times
Memories carried through life,
Are kept safely in our minds.
The little section of our brain, 
Called Memories For All Times.
 
Memories tucked safely away,
Full of wonderful times we've had.
Categorized and alphabetized,
So we can recall them -- at any time.
 
The sensor on this Memory Bank,
When alerted has instant recall.
The miniature librarian kept on-hand,
Is waiting for your call.
 
The moment the alarm sounds,
That a special memory is needed,
The emotional team jumps onboard,
In search of the memory for this deed.
 
The team starts running around,
Causing a headache indeed,
While clambering about like a scout,
Searching for the key, no doubt.
 
The team inquires, is she happy or sad,
Mad or contrite, is she flipping off walls,
Or only stomping the floors.
I think I got it-- she's lost her love.
 
Should we send in the clowns,
Or recall some happier times.
Let's send in wonderful memories,
Of happier days in time.

She'll be back to herself again,
Making new happy memories,
To lock up tight in that memory bank,
Called Memories For All Times.
 
©2014 by Lee Christine Brownlee

The Echo of a View

The echo of a view 

 Nature is not democratic and doesn’t to the call
for liberal equality that means the rule of the majority 
kills the unwanted by massive droughts to stop weeds 
being in charge, a landscape of roses is but weeds
strangulating healthy edible plants.
Capitalism
Communism 
Nationalism 
Socialism
Are residues of the twenty’s century, with big political parties
Are on the wane, politics, as we know, is local, hence decisions 
Should reflect this.
We favour a structure of humanity in considerations
The ruler must not lead us into the wilderness of unlimited growth
The end result is an elected dictatorship.
We need an alternative, do away with “left” and “right.”
A schism leading us to new wars; not be afraid to sensor states
That brutally suppresses people, not them.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Aren'T Easy

Sensor on a relay, really?
These Brand-New cars,
aren't very easy.
It's like playin Parcheesi,
with old fartin sneezy.
Yeah, these brand-new cars,
sure, aren't very easy.
Form: Rhyme

Wrong Bread For Fred

Wrong bread for Fred

here I am sick in bed
got the chills and aches in my head
called the pharmacy and spoke with Ned
was told of a remedy  of  oatmeal bread

thought that was new so I tried it  instead 
smeared some butter and jelly was spread
laid down with a book that  I hadn’t  read
Did not like the novel , the cover mislead.

still feeling the blahs  I was getting  worse
hoped that I make it without calling a hearse.
got the bible out and looked for a verse
thought it might help to relieve this curse.

I called back to the pharmacy asking for Ned
was told he didn’t work here, it’s a bakery instead
I had dialed the wrong number to get the med
they thought I was ill from not being fed.

 that’s why they told me  to get some bread 
I went to the bakery and told them I was Fred
Ned was there and told me he had misread
‘ ginger bread would have been better instead”

bought some gingerbread and some whipped cream
thought this was unusual and kind of extreme
perhaps a remedy, am hoping  not a scheme
I’m sick enough to just wash downstream.

 the gingerbread went into the oven to bake
ate most if it but then my stomach began to ache
felt dizzy enough but not like floating in a lake
what could be wrong with me, it was only a cake.

was admitted to the hospital, had an abdominal scan
they asked me if I had eaten cereal with bran
told them I made a cake in a non stick pan
added some prunes that I had in a can.

was put in bed dressed with just a flimsy gown
wasn’t enough material to go all the way around
where’s the rest of the sleeper I asked with a frown
‘there is none, you’ll be spotted in case you skip into town”

I need to find a way to slip out the door
where’s my bag with clothes that I wore
the bed has an alarm sensor if you try to soar
using a bedpan will be quite the chore.


wrapped myself up in sheets, hiding my buns
ran down the back stairway before morning comes
Security frantically searching  and yelling  to everyone 
“gingerbread man is on the loose with the runs”!
Form: Rhyme

Verse -6

what has been said
can't take it back
to late
Sensor

DX
© Dom- X-  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Verse

Premium Member Developing Wings On the Way Down

I was looking out the window and saw my neighbor across the street on a ladder, putting up an American flag. Both he and his wife are school teachers. 

     I took that moment to go over and tease him. I asked if he was putting the flag up to honor my husband.

     I have been living here for ten years, and they had never tried to be friendly, except when they needed something. They have two sons and two golden labs. They all-stay locked up in the house with the curtains drawn. If, someone comes and knocks on their door, they are greeted by two frantic and not-so-friendly sounding barks, that bump on the glass window, but their owners won’t answer the door. 

     They have a motion sensor light over the middle of the garage door. I told him that the flapping of the flag was going to set off the light all the time. He laughed; he hadn't thought about it.  I purposely went over to tell him that my husband had passed away four months ago. He was shocked. He apologized and said he didn't know.

     With tears, I turned and walked away. When I'd gotten to the edge of the driveway, the tip off my left sandal caught on the edge of the asphalt. The sandal stayed; my arms started flapping, like a young bird in its nest trying to fly. Flapping, flapping, I kept leaning forward, like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Trying to righten myself, half-way to the other side, my other sandal flew off. I suppose I might have looked pretty funny, running to the other side, bending over like I was trying to catch a hat that had blown off my head. My arms still flapping, waiting for a landing, face first on the asphalt and the gravel under my feet.  All I could think and see was the blackest tar and gravel rising to meet me, how painful it was going to be when my face kissed that dirty tar.

     However, by some miracle, I had gotten to the other side of the road and caught my balance. With my heart pounding, my neck and back aching, and the bottoms of my feet sore, I survived not kissing the dirty tar and gravel. It was like God's angel spread its wings and wrapped them around me, and straighten me out. I should have had a very serious relationship with the first kiss, but not that day. 



     Thank you, Lord.




     Thank you, Lord.

12/29/2018
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Prose

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