Best Typing Poems
"Page up"
Dear John,
"Enter" the time when you'd drive me up to the lake to cherish the scenery's beauty, and we'd witness the same in our love-locked eyes. Like our weekend adventures together, you were my dream "Esc." Your laughter reminds me of "Home," a place I could forever dwell and happily reminisce. You were such a gentleman, holding open doors, and picking up the "Tab." I loved dressing up for the occasion of you. If only I could "Scroll Lock" and "PrtScr" here, keeping this paragraph only in perspective.
Lately there has been a "Shift" and now I see your "Alt" rowdy self. I relinquish "Ctrl" over this person. I will not be responsible for your drinking habits and apathetic lack of ambition. I know we cannot "Back Space," but perhaps we can "Insert" an extended beginning, when you're ready to become that man that I adore.
I will say this with "Caps Lock" because I must get your attention! WE NEED A "BREAK"! We must "Pause" to contemplate our potential future together and what that may entail. I don't desire to "Delete" our story, nor do I want this to "End," but I will not settle for the status quo. As I push the "Spacebar" under my finger, I intend to wait, but I may continue typing without you....
Yours,
Perhaps
"Page down"
Clothes used to matter. Now I don’t even fix supper.
There is food here
Thanks to my husband.
I am typing
All the time
Perpetually typing
Delighting in it
Stuck to a computer
Hours upon hours
Throwing down my truth
So when I die
People can throw the clothes out
But maybe
Just
maybe
Please
maybe
they will not
throw out my words.
Finally reading them for the very first time….
Written on July 13, 2012
Updated on May 3, 2013
Her fingers were flying
Typing too fast to stop
While she guiltily ignored
Her inner Internet cop.
She just couldn’t help typing
What she had to say
While clicking out words
To inflict Internet pain.
Would she regret this tomorrow?
Possibly so.
But not before damaging
Someone’s fragile ego.
If only she’d clicked
Numbers One through Ten
Instead of sending her words
to her future ex-Internet friend.
And the moral of this poem
If you are still reading this, my friend,
Is to not create Internet-wars.
Like all wars...
They are too harmful to mend.
Computer
Mouse CPU
Beeping Correcting Typing Learning
Technology Hardware Software Input
Computer
AAA
I learned to type in Jr. High.
I learned to tap the keyboard.
One letter than another...
on and on.
AAA
AAA
AA Then... B
AAA
AAB
ABB
BBC
...
One day I came to class,
and we all sat right down as usual.
But to my amazement we were free.
We could do CCC, or DDD... Even ZZZ
My heart was lifted from the monotony
of the drills to lift my skills.
Yet in the end,
it was like magic,
my brain told me nothing,
and I told it just the same.
Regardless of our unspoken conversation...
my hands flew across the board,
as if they were made to dance, and prance,
in an orderly fashion.
I love my typing teacher,
for making me better,
than I was...
before I took the class.
I paused for a moment,
clacked against the keys
my fingers moved so fast
almost like a breeze.
The way I seen them move,
I have never seen before
but I could not stop myself
and started typing even more.
The words painted my screen,
if they were only an illussion
my thoughts were everywhere
and so was my confusion.
This typing madness,
it blew my mind
and now that it's over
I can finally unwind.
Flittering fingers flying
Across the keyboards
When I am typing
I am never bored
Lap top and IPad
Or trusty old IBM
Across keyboards
My ten digits swim
Tapping, tapping and
Striking all keys right
Stroking keyboards
To me is a delight
Typing the words
Laying them down
In Microsoft Word
Or on paper bound
Printing them out to
Present to posterity
Typing is so damn
Satisfying to me
Three days ago, my ophthalmologist performed my first cataract operation,
All went well I must say,
But I am seeing double today,
So please everybody who I have answered with persistent determination,
Excuse my typing, incorrect spelling and my intense unrelenting frustration.
With most of my possible lovers
Strangely far away
The only means of testing
A little box with a blue line across the top
Or a web interface with which I get to see
Your face, only momentarily
Usually late at night or at other obscure and fleeting moments
Each of my invisible counterparts provide a temporary diversion
Or a momentary ego boost, and yet as that Rabbi’s wife told me
“You will never know, til you’re in their presence and that moment hits
Where you know that they could provide you with what you need,
In an actual time frame and you will know you can provide too, for them.
Rather than a semblance of reality providing a destiny complex and an
Intimacy only present on the screen of your MacBook”
“Just wait,” she said “ until life presents them to you and then you will be able to decide”
I nodded, sure she was correct.
However til then, yes I'm available to chat
Even when you all wish solely to discuss my frontward protuberances and occasionally my dreams and family situation… maybe I should just wait til that cheeky drink.
I have been told, when I use the compute it always goes awry.
I have been told, do not blame the computer it is just a crazy machine.
I have been told, do not anguish over my typing.
I have been told, if I dream and assuage about my words I will feel better.
I have been told, I must absolve my fingers from my mistakes.
I have been told, to just talk to my fingers but they will not listen.
I have been told, I should not hold atrocious guilt when I do not win.
I have been told, I need to absolve myself and try another contest.
I have been told, there will always be another contest to enter.
I have been told, my appetency to win is what keeps me going.
I have been told, it is all about the allure of poetry that keeps me writing.
I have been told, true writers love to write.
Date: 10/27/2019
If my typing seems illegible some times
I tend slant it to the left or the right,
Forgive me if you cannot read it,
Let me know please don’t get up tight.
See I was born with this left-handedness,
And I am not to blame.
I take after by poor old dad,
Who suffered from it just the same.
It is all to do with how you place your key board,
I face mine left instead of straight in front of me.
This gives the letters a right hand slant,
Look closely at the screen and you will see.
So now if your eyes have gone all squint,
And you’ve read and done all I ask.
Then you just as insane as me,
For this insanity test you can give yourself a pass.
vgbflkjnhmer jhu
ef o tg oi j r hyjuf e
jnhmuxcyht rtfg 9
\76yut y 43 u7yh ihyujj
ytvgftr jn 76yu5r4t hjun i
hjuyn jhu vf
hjuy h gbh
hjuy uy ujy u u
87yu76tu yu76 u7y6
76y 76 yu7h6
76 76y 76 76
78
e
7 7 7 7 7
8 78 76 7
88 87 8 87 8
777
Typing, fingers.... saying "Kind" words today.
Blank paper now coming alive with true love.
Words for you that will fit like a fine glove.
My computer is full of "Kind" typing play.
Date Written: 3/8/2020
3 Place STRAND PICK 2, ANY THEME, ANY FORM Contest Judged:4/6/2020
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
And
3 Place Kind Ink Contest Judged:4/17/2020 Sponsored by: charles messina
I have to deliberate an idea for about a month he said.
I began to type.
It forms slowly, sometimes in a painful way, he whines.
I am half listening.
Words are pinging onto the page with rapid precision.
I do not understand how anyone can write a worthwhile poem
in less than three weeks, he tells me.
Bam.
Poem number one is finished.
Sometimes I have to edit it nineteen times, he laments.
Whap!
Poem number two is done.
What are you typing? He asks me.
Anything my muse likes, I tell him. I just follow her lead.
Whack! Wham! Whim!
Poems 4, 5 and 6 are happily completed
while he gives me advice on how to write poetry.
typing can get very boring
so i came up with a system
that makes it seem not so tolling
and you won't anymore be the victim
it might seem pretty weird at first
but trust me, it gets better as you practice
you might get so mad you want to burst
just use this strategy while on a mattress
the strategy of using your toes
may take a while but it's fun to use
it makes you feel sick to your nose
and makes it difficult to muse
so i guess it's not too efficient
or good to use when you think
i'll type with my feet while existent
and you type with, in hand, a drink.