Long Battery Poems
Long Battery Poems. Below are the most popular long Battery by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Battery poems by poem length and keyword.
Automobile industry
At the seaside, the water signaled many colors
pale sober gin, dark hue, then bottle green and pink like a nursery rhyme
no one took notice the sea was warning of a disaster.
It began in the late afternoon when the sun felt tired but hesitated to sink beyond the horizon
So much more to see, and the night lasted until six in the morning.
The cars by the seaside started all at once and
headed towards the bay and into the sea
the bottom of the bay was smooth, and many cars were able to drive far before they drowned, but the battery light lasted a long at night, the bay lit up like a gigantic stage for an opera
Shall we guess, Rusalka? An Italian opera
A water nymph in love with the human world and discovers her sexuality.
There was no way to stop this mass exodus
more and more cars flung themselves into the water in the bay; yes, even patrol cars revolted
and motorized transport came to a halt
when motorcars had gone, it was the motorbike's turn to headless drive into the sea
An island was born
when seabirds had fertilized the islet traffic
cones appeared together with of one way drive
no parking zones and zebra crossings
The world cried out for Elon Musk to come and sort out the problem
in the meantime, a donkey farm in the north of
Guarda, a hilltop town near the Spanish border, made a roaring business renting out their animals.
Mere Minutes Into May Sixth, 2019
Heron entombed within b44 man cave
at Highland Manor Apartments sitting
in catbird seat after shower and shave
attuned to silence permeating airwave
wondering what comprises silence music
to these keenly attuned ears as agave
tastes sweet on tongue curious just now
if those hard of hearing or deaf crave
distinct absence, albeit low toned hum,
sans various appliances buzzing this knave,
who relishes solitude and absolute quiet
though this facility, most appeal aye rave
constitutes very minimal cost courtesy
rental assistance, which provides us to save,
(that plural includes missus) feels a slave
hidebound to maintain tidiness, lest we
find ourselves homeless prospect I stave
off (just barely), analogous keeping wild
animal at bay, though grim prospect suave,
and debonair "FAKE" facade I don trumpet
merely self employed to distract grim fate,
which loomed large months few months gone
necessitated third automotive, repair spate
chilly linkedin (racking ma pinion), asper our
2009 Hyundai Sonata (sedan) original parts
(battery included) amazingly last years behave
ving admirably despite slew of upkeep sending
checking account into intensive care, a grave
situation kickstarting precarious mental health
(amazing how being penniless - dirt poor) brave
driver cannot withstand blistering maintenance
costs sustaining car, more money versus engrave
van tombstone, and more painful experiencing
a negative checking account balance, thus fave
veering disliking existential hardship, where entrenched
panic attacks (despite pharmaceutical magic) death gave
enticing option, cuz quotidian struggle undermines
affinity to enjoy life, liberty, blah blah to thrave.
She sent me a lol on wattsapp
Please pass the ketchup
Mothership gliding in silent space
Umbilically us padded in shiny foil
Her face deflected in a fish bowl
Leaves only guessing about her thoughts
Lets dock Lets talk
Little ingots and tiny orbs
Suspended in the fluid of my sight
Just us against the world
Through the crackling and the static noise
Wincing hard to hear her voice
Her words a soggy sandwich
Pleading as my waning battery
But my head wouldnt dock with my heart
And somehow we became unwed
She was my torment, I was her duty
Her virtue was the softer call
And that became her beauty
Ive become much softer now
But it doesnt work for me at all
A completed work a naughty boy
Indifferent now to watch me fall
The highway was pitch black ahead
and I had been driving for hours,
I was tired and my gas was low.
Then, in the distance I saw bright lights . . .
it was a gas station and it was open!
I pulled in and connected the gas hose,
when my tank was full- I went inside,
there was a man organizing boxes on shelves,
although nothing looked out of place.
In fact, it was perfect and it was real bright!
He smiled at me with teeth dazzling
his smile seemed to me just wrong,
I'll be right with you- he chirped like a bird.
I went to the cash and waited for him . . .
when he got behind the counter,
he just stood there staring ahead!
I waited, then saw a sign with instructions,
if attendant not working plug in here.
I noticed an extension cord on his back,
so I plugged it into the wall behind him!
Oh, that's better he chirped in his non-voice,
my battery must have gone dead.
I stared, speechless, then handed him payment.
have a nice evening Miss, he sang . . .
I walked back to my car puzzled,
what to heck just happened back there!
Anyways, I drove off into the night feeling odd,
suddenly, my car was beeping that my gas was low.
Had that been a mirage- a figment of imagination,
was that gas station in the middle of nowhere
a hallucination . . . ?
I turned my car around to go back to the station,
but I drove for a long time and it was gone!
________________________________
March 8, 2018
Poetry/Verse/In The Middle Of Nowhere
Copyright Protected, ID 18-1002-219-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Hallucination
sponsor, Brendan J. Simons
Honorable Mention
Too much turmoils
Make me fatique
Too much chaos
Make me deaf
Too much tragedies
Make me blind
My mind jammed
My heart broken
I have nothing to say anymore
Years after years hazards come and go and return
Silence is the only word on my lips
The fan blades turn and turn
No noise but efficient
Noisy fan means old and not functioning well
But my silence means loss, helpless and confused
God's silence means we're seriously handicapped
God's words are spread in all nature
With philosophical signs
To be interpreted by man himself
Silence always speaks the loudest voice
To man's heart only
With no heart attacks of course
A heart can be put in a battery to make it function again
How about a stonely heart with God's words
Maybe,maybe...
Ding dong, the hunger strikes,
A rhythm felt in bones and spikes.
Breakfast, lunch, or dinner near,
The stomach rings, its call is clear.
No hands, no gears, no ticking sound,
Yet perfect timing always found.
Biology knocks, a subtle beat,
A clock within, precise, discreet.
A glass of water, a morsel fed,
The ringing fades, the body led.
Yet even empty, the bell may chime,
A pulse of life, a silent rhyme.
Some heed it fast, some let it wait,
The hunger bell respects no state.
Food or not, it strikes in tune,
Morning, noon, and fading moon.
It knows the body, knows the need,
Each cell aligned, each organ heed.
No battery, key, or settings new,
It’s built to work, in every hue.
Ding dong, a pulse through veins and gut,
A faithful rhythm, sharp and shut.
It hums of balance, life’s design,
A measure older than our time.
So hear it strike, that inner sound,
No feast, no prayer, no offering bound.
The hunger clock, so finely spun,
A song of life, and of the sun.
notification of fire evacuation
slated to occur
April 12th, 2018 (between the hours
of 9:00 am and 12 pm) did spur
me to validate Google asper,
that direct object heave ving,
pro noun sub bull, verb bose,
ingenious American historical figure
attired in tailored clothes
careful sans his just keen
liberal mien pro
claiming necessity to doze
when body politik
didst need restorative source
analogous to drained battery expose
zing lack of electricity
mechanisms need did tubby supplied
(in one direction) flows
accorded stealing thunder and lightening
from Zeus where prominence glows
vis a vis via leaving
his tell tale fingerprints
upon flame inextinguishable hose
imprimatur of renown Founding Father,
a one man gifted born
improved quality of life
during Colonial American stage
buttressing forlorn
during his deux score and four years
fledgling United States heed add horn
bequeathing blueprints
(functional contraptions,
posthumous patents procured
after populace did mourn
gadgets kickstarting leveraging more novel
Ongepatshket prescience,
quietly revolutionary,
strikingly timesaving),
utilitarian value shorn
tattered stitched timeless totemic tenets torn
unimagined visionary watershed worn,
where underworld webbed wide world burned
with thermal coupling that churned
ferocious infernos
describing how Hades learned
tubby managed
to maximize efficiency
zealousness zeroed Zyder Zee
in said Netherlands
and hellish hot house turned
into a near utopia (More
or less nsync) with Doubting Thomas's,
where many mortals yearned
to escape corrupt fat cats, sans
those condemned to mortality
found minimally a mew
zing, and doggedly trudged 10,000 leagues
under the sea, entombing
jewels for vernacular speaking Josephine shew
wing scars from fire
that threatened Philadelphians thorough
lee hence, forcing many civilians
to dive vining Davy Jones's locker pre view
in 1736 after swallowing embalming fluid
ha I did "FAKE" you
tubal heave poetic pablum from human zoo!
Oceans of energy,
run through the human battery;
polar opposites are reflected in the face;
no two sides are the same.
Palm prints tell the life story,
but few know how to read them;
it’s a mystical road map, the palm.
Eyes speak loudly,
of the stories within the human heart;
connections are made
as they link across centuries.
People delude themselves;
anyone really looking can see
beneath the wrapping;
why try to hide your true self?
The physical volume, an easy read,
betrays its owner simply by its design;
deceit is a useless costume;
don’t waste your assets on it.
I have this watch I wear
That gives the time of day
Can also see the time of night
Because the face illuminates
One thing that it doesn't
That I wish it would
Is remind me of the time
That I should spend with you
You see I get so busy Lord
I barely have time to think
Living this life day to day
As if it were on the brink
If I continue at this pace
I'm not sure I will survive
Is this what they meant when I heard them say
This is the time of your life
I'm going to do my best to slow down
With your help Lord I'll figure out
What's most important in this life
And give the rest a long time out
So I'm taking the battery out of this watch
To remind me every hour of every day
To stop what it is I'm doing
And take the time to kneel and pray
Public affection –
Where did it go?
There’s an infection
Nobody knows
Loving in secret
Guilt meter’s on
Telescreen watching
Privacy gone
They’re lockin’ you up
For a public display of affection
The children are snitches
The homeless are spies
Watch in the subway
Their schizoid eyes
They’re puttin’ you down
For a public display of affection
They’re sellin’ you out
For a public display of affection
—- in a strange room
Along a brass pole
The dancers are working
Shoveling bull—— like coal
Warmth was a legend
Your passions are woes
The fate of the last friend
Nobody knows
They’re pullin’ your plug
For a public display of affection
They’re punching your ticket
For a public display of affection
They’re cuttin’ your battery
For a public display of affection
They’re snapping your cord
For a public display of affection
(2017)