Best Wrist Watch Poems
blueberries are not an option
oversize strawberries, maybe.
16 pack
of pop-tarts
the workers look worried
or weary
worn down by the woman who taps on her wrist-watch
with her forefinger
her painted mask forms a frown
her eyebrows are more aggressive
flashing lights
spilled onto the glossy floor tiles
the shelves are soaked in strange
i am invisible
avoiding intentional eye-contact
content to be
a casual observer
unnoticed by an acquaintance
out of context
unaccustomed to our bodies without barriers
beside the cereal boxes i wonder
if i look different behind bullet-proof glass
fat-free or chocolate 2%
there is no middle-ground
but i prefer the color blue to brown
so the choice is made easier
by arbitrary affections
this is where college students
collect the contents of their refrigerators
this is where bananas
are available after midnight
on a thursday
or is it friday?
all i can say is that it doesn’t matter much
in this fluorescent fantasy land
everything is affordable
especially time
because wages are waning
and the hunger will never cease.
Flipped hourglass: a slipped tide or a passed second,
Has moved, like drop in a flowing river, beckoned;
Hourglass, an automaton, cannot run itself,
Humans must be at its beck and call, like an elf...
Flipped hourglass: a slipped tide or a passed second,
Has moved, like drop in a flowing river, beckoned;
Hourglass, an automaton, cannot run itself,
Humans must be at its beck-and-call, like an elf...
Times bind; we are bound; we at the mercy of time;
Wrist watch ties us; rather, us tying its chill chime;
With time we slip; unable to follow its flow,
Flipping with it we flip; our movements being slow...
Doesn't flip hourglass denote human existence?
With its fleeting, flowing and flopping in tight, tense;
Sand filled in is like air puffed up in our body,
Leak enough to leave the clock and body, shoddy...!
I had an hourglass, so smart-looking, glamorous!
I admired its function, and almost stood speechless;
My obligations and dead-lines remained undone,
Sand slipped; I slipped with it unknowingly; Like fun...!
Flowing with the time we could flow the time for us,
Buddha said, none can dip in the same river twice;
Time is fix flex flux; changing, churning, endlessly,
Pleads us to care it; keep going eternally...!
28 January 2022
Pick-A-Title, Vol 28 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh
BIRTHDAY GIFTS
Free Verse
A belated birthday gift
From my son I received
That I could use in my daily activities
Jog, walk and exercise the things I need in my life
A blue jogging suit
And a Lacoste rubber shoes
That makes my whole being more active
Feeling better and younger than others
A nice cap from by younger daughter
And a wrist watch from the older
These small things gave me the vigor
The inspiration and aspiration to live longer
With me walking and jogging
Are the best gifts I ever received
My loving and understanding wife
Which I believe a gift from God
if i die tonight
tomorrow is no lie
wake up in the morning
go about your life
if i die tonight
remember me inside
all the good times
i wasn't always right
if i die tonight
because i wasn't liked
forgive all my homies
coming for you life
they know if it was them
tonight i will go ride
if i die tonight
mamas gone cry
i didn't leave a son behind
to brighten up her life
if i die tonight
my girls moving forward
turn that ass over
shes going to see my face
wasn't ever sober
i couldn't feel my face
i don't like you mondays
deuces now I'm tuesday
on my grind like hump days till the day i die
wonder why I'm rappin bout the day i die
cuz when that day comes
its a rap
back then wasn't always good
now a days aren't as they should
i don't know about u but god is good
if i die tonight forgive for what i did
damn this life of sin
didn't trip let me rip
wrist watch absent
captivate like traffic
don't wonder why was i an addict
trust me i don't wan a die
i see myself in action influenced many lives
righteous why **** had to down like this
woulndt go back track
just play it back
idk wasn't ever the type to follow
pray to see tomorrow
broken promises i know
truth is hard to swallow
if heaven had a gecho
id let go of the steering wheel
call it suicidal
I'm alright tho
I'm in this like 5 4 3 2
https://soundcloud.com/doenuttrackz/if-i-die-tonight-1
thanks for listening
this will be good and slippery
in a whistling fall from grace
feel free to edit in a picture of your choice
the more grotesque the more accurate
while glancing at your wrist watch
over and over when you knew
your 30 seconds was up centuries ago
we agree to be controlled
he said speaking in archetypes
here then is my plan for world conquest
say Bob that was some intro
right you are Nick
and just what the tired evacuated
non combatants at home needed
you know Bob our audience should be issued guns
right you are Bill the results would be immediate
h-h-h-howdy there f-f-fans
g-g-glad to see you all p-p-packin
ha ha ha ha ha good one Bill
who does your thinking for you by the way
OK you've been briefed
if I wrote as few words as possible
the page would be blank
and useless as a postmodern hit man
speculating on the utility of spectacles
driven by a fear of the ordinary
in an ideological trance
at this point it could go either way
even reality is an approximation of reality
but there is no question of stopping
onward he plunged sarcastically
into a semiotic twilight of the gods
everything red shifted in a bar stool curse
too many crevasses on this ice berg
blinded by white phosphorous
receptors wide open overt and undeniable
incorrect labeling why is it a necessity
would you know your number
if your number was up
he stood before his firing squad
snickering and giggling and rolling his eyes
got a last cigarette
I have to smoke I'm a witch
the squad broke up with laughter
pissed their pants
and shot the lieutenant
if I'm in this much trouble now
God help me tomorrow
From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon
Artist Portfolio: http://walteralter.byethost32.com/
It s only a wrist watch
with a faded leather strap.
With it's gold numbers
a precious possession that's kept in a box.
Shown to the grand kids
His pride and joy.
"But grand dad its only a watch !"
"It is only a watch !", but look what does it say ?.
45 years service to the railway.
My life is engraved on the back of this watch.
I gave of my all my sweat and my blood.
See my grey hair and calloused hands
these are the things I got with the watch.
When I pass on, this watch it will be yours.
hold it close to your heart, as I will be gone.
__
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Comp entry 24102016 old jewellery or just old things
It's 11:26am but my laptop 2:24am
wall clock 9:26am, wrist watch 4:49pm,
I think God's time is the best
I'm singular.
I'm night-driving.
With vibrant hum
of standard speed.
I'm glowing of dashboard.
Utterances of am talk
alien abductees and remote viewing.
Barely diverts my musing.
I night-drive
periodically.
A rite of wanting
Control, of the wheel.
Arm out window
night air cooling me.
Headlight on blacktop.
A yellow metronome.
This nights topic , I'm.
A question proposed,
by a small man in robes.
I started the list:
I'm a modern Tom Sawyer
an ebb-and-flow.
I'm this psycho-manic jester.
Dharma junkie, with subjects.
I'm Charlie Brown on acid
but who love the dog.
I'm a skin head hippie.
A guy with no wrist watch.
I'm a independent film critic
speaks religiously of Fight Club.
I'm these and other clever observation.
I stopped at a neon diner for tools of thought:
Coffee, pen, paper, and consumers of isolation.
Filling a page of I'm
looking for a singular
a true answer.
Just finding personas
and learned traits.
It came to me this I'm.
While leaving the tip.
In my wallet a picture of my children
looking full of me.
Parents weren't around to raise me, all I had was words and lyrics from rappers
Excuse me, if I act like Hip-Hop is the only thing that matters
Nas, Rakim,Tupac and Eminem taught me more than any book
Hip-Hop Taught me more about life than any teacher ever could
I don't care for mumble rappers or the new slang
From a young age I've listened to Big Pun, Jay-Z and Wu-Tang
So I love a message in the bars and rhymes
I see Hip-Hop today and I hate how the art has declined
From a young age I've been in love with Hip-Hop
But I don't care about love and Hip-Hop
I care about rhymes, storytelling, lyricism, I'm not the one to judge your wrist watch
I like the rappers that try to Write something so hard, that when they lift their pad up, blood will drip off
Hip-Hop inspired me to be better, but the government will tell you it's to blame for Gun crime
Because they hear the word gun and don't listen to the full rhymes
If you don't listen to artists on a whole, you have no right to judge their artistry
No teacher taught me more about life than KRS-One, Common, Nas and Bone Thugs and Harmony
At the age of 8 I heard the Marshall Mathers LP for the first time
Obsessed and mesmerised by the different way rappers made words rhyme
Depression had a hold of me and stopped me from sleeping at night
But as soon as I threw some Hip-Hop on, it gave me a reason to fight
They told me it was inappropriate, but someone tell me what's worse
My family drinking and injecting heroin, or a rapper putting a few swear words in their musical work?
If it wasn't for Hip-Hop I wouldn't be alive right now because it saved me
Until the day I die I'll always be a Hip-Hop baby
Parents weren't around to raise me, all I had was words and lyrics from rappers
Excuse me, if I act like Hip-Hop is the only thing that matters
Nas, Rakim,Tupac and Eminem taught me more than any book
Hip-Hop Taught me more about life than any teacher ever could
Minnie mouse is so famous
Wearing bow as pink as rose
She also wears dress
So clean and no mess
And polishes her black nose
Mickey mouse likes her so much
They’re best friends, a perfect match
Both wear nice sports shoe
With colorful hue
So, they’re designs of wrist watch
Mickey and Minnie are smart
So talented since the start
They hold hands to dance
In a lovely prance
But Mickey gives a loud fart
Dec. 2, 2022 12.09pm
howmanysyllables.com
77557-77557-77557
76 words
93 syllables
403 characters
She wakes from a dream, dripping with tears of sweat pouring down her face. Her long blonde hair is pasted to her forehead as she sits up in her bed. The clock reads 3:03am. Her heart is pounding rhythmically to the ticking of her wrist watch. Her long legs that are wrapped in her white down comforter are extremely cold, and she realizes that a harsh draft is seeping through the window sill beside her bed. As she pulls back the curtains to check the window for cracks in the ledge, her eyes grow wide with amazement. The street lights reveal swirls of frosted confetti which overwhelm the pitch blackness of the night. It has not snowed this hard since she was a little girl and suddenly the terror of her dream dissipates. She jumps out of bed, slips on her purple fuzzy slippers, along with her matching robe and runs down the stairs.
The stars glisten
Illuminating shadows-
Icicles hang still
Her front door swings open from the harsh embrace of the wind and she manages to drift on to her porch. Her foot prints smear the freshly painted deck but they are quickly filled up again by the urgency of heavens winter release. Her eyes begin to spill like water falls and her rosy face along with the rest of her body goes numb. However, the arctic chill was worth it to her. The last time she had seen her father was on a night like this. He loved the snow and every part of its splendor reminded her of him. The howling in the air, the cold that cut through her pajama pants like a knife, the snowflakes the size of marshmallows and the cars that look like giant igloos. Even the smell of the wood burning across the street in her neighbor’s fireplace all made her feel like her father was near. It was like heaven had stopped by to visit her this night.
By: Sabina Nicole
Contest: winter
These are my thoughts
This is my voice
Love was becoming toxic
I had to toss it
Though blame it on the Pandora box
Wait but that is unfair of me
For my misfortune is of my own doing
Evol
That is selfish of me
Still have my back against the wall
Still have hope
Looking at my wrist watch
I made a few baby steps
Believe this; nothing good comes out of the dark
Paint that white
So don’t turn your back
For love is your building block
Pause for a second
And reconsider your decisions
For your chances are your choices
Choices are your chances
For tomorrow belongs to the courageous
Who roll the dice more than twice
In their minds you only live once
Tomorrows existence will tell of the
Of your today’s circumstances
LOVE
Embrace it
Harold told no one about his evening plans.
His construction buddies already thought of him as odd.
Thirty eight, unmarried loner,
They razzed him on being quite, his house,
And how he needed to get laid.
But it was in fun, they respected Harold.
When it came to the job, they nick named him
"The Artist"
Harold looked at the clock on the stove,
And went up stairs to get dressed for dinner.
The vintage suit lay, newly pressed, on his single bed.
The tag "Carol's Costums" attached to the hanger.
Harold decided not to wear the Top hat.
Feeling it was over the top.
and as he struggled with the bow tie,
He was trying to remember the name of his prom date.
Dressed, he walked down the long creaky stairs.
His wrist watch telling him "two minutes"
The nervous anticipation quickened his movement,
As he brought out the feast.
The large Grandfather clock began to chime in the living room,
Harold surveyed the dinning room,
As he would do after a construction job.
He smiled proudly to himself, "The Artist" he playfully said aloud.
Knowing Alice would like the room as it was intended.
As the chime hit its last twelve,
Harold herd the fimilar sound,
Of Alice's feet stepping on the creaky stairs,
And when she martialized in the dinning room,
Alice looked around at what Harold had done for her,
Harold new the night was what he had planed to build,
As Alice's ghostly eyes, looked at him lovingly.
(Happy Holloween)
The guy she hired to do me in,
unbeknownst to her,
was one of the blokes on Friday nights
with whom I played poker.
All this time she thought I lied
and was having a sordid affair,
because I didn’t tell her with whom I played
or even let her know where.
My secret was, they were all convicts
from an earlier part of my life;
back when I was a different sort
than the one now known by my wife.
He said he ‘bout laughed when first he learned
the identity of the guy she wanted to kill;
“Imagine”, he said, “She thought a turd like you,
could even find another dumb girl!”
“Well, if she wants me dead
who am I, to stop her from getting her wish?
Just tell her that you did me in
and now I sleep with the fish.”
I gave him my wallet and my wrist watch
to give to her as proof;
Then I laid low and stayed out of sight
not telling anyone the truth.
The police case closed; the insurance settled –
a service was held for me;
The would be killer collected his fee
and we split it fifty-fifty.
Then late one night I snuck in her room
to even up the score;
a noise woke her up; she caught a glimpse of me
and fainted to the floor.
The suicide note was full of pain
and sorrow for her husband who died;
I swear I wrote it so passionately
it nearly made me cry.
You can’t be murdered by a man who is dead
so no one suspected my crime;
and now I live in the Florida Keys
having a wonderful time.
by Joe Flach, written and posted on 10/6/11 for the "Getting Away With Murder" contest.
7.
the leaf of jack-fruit is luxuriant
i can’t remember whether i ever notice
the portrait of your face on it
there are so many words
that are slippery
how much rustic is the dust of the legs
of the young person is known to the road of the city
daubing green on both palms
i call for rain …oh rain ..oh rain
and into that rain i let my wrist-watch float
thus the great rainbow unfolds its wise mirror
on the scaffold of bottle-gourd
from the bright cloth-end falling down
the odour of detergent
thus the applied mathematics of the diesel
is learnt to a greater extent
8.
behind the change of colour of the swelled wind
the samovar plays no role
though you know it you tear off tears
from your eyes
and the merry biscuits that are kept in the jar
raise a joint demand to serve them
after wrapping with new banana-leaves
and the funny thing is that no accounts is found out
of the expenditure on the lip-stick that was used
by the fishes in the aquarium at the time of illness
of the antenna
by the hands of the clock stretching their shanks apart
is it possible to know the actual age of a comb
either it’s costly or cheap