Long Calculator Poems
Long Calculator Poems. Below are the most popular long Calculator by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Calculator poems by poem length and keyword.
When I go shopping there are some things I no longer must contemplate,
Like the price per kilo of most foods,
Or the number of sausages in a packet.
I can avoid the nappy isle,
The teenage beauty products,
School supplies isle,
And I no longer have to include the price of a pair of shoes,
In my monthly budget.
I am back to knowing what I will be paying for before I get to the counter,
All without a calculator.
I can walk to the shops again,
With no dissenting sleepy voices to,
Outvote me,
Or overload me.
Our petrol bill is down,
The veggie garden is more than just weeds,
We no longer get threatening letters from the power company,
And our internet use is down.
I know it won't last,
As there is a one in three chance,
That there will be grandchildren on the horizon,
To pull at our heartstrings,
Empty our wallets,
Yet never quite drying up our well of patience.
But in the meantime, all I must worry about when I go shopping,
Is can we eat all the food before it goes off,
And did we lock the door before we left.
Never be swayed by a woman in need,
For "billing" is her constant creed.
"I'm hungry," "my gas is dry,"
Her words, a drain, a constant sigh.
Rescue not a woman from poverty's grasp,
For she'll seek escape, and leave at last.
Her heart, a calculator, cold and grey,
Values measured in economic way.
Survival tops feelings in her book,
A lady's love, a financial hook.
She seeks a man with deeper pockets still,
A richer partner, her heart's thrill.
No motherly love to nurture and mend,
Her regard for men, their financial trend.
Multiple suitors, a comparative game,
Her independence, a treasure to claim.
Few claim to help, but seek gain,
Interest and advantage, their aim.
Commanders, helpers, or so they say,
But men, beware, for you'll pay.
Men, work harder, be determined too,
Never look to a woman for help, 'tis true.
For in the end, it will go awry,
And leave you drained, with a heavy sigh.
Funny Numbers
Poem
Lionel Derbyshire
2 Whom it may
Concern
Numb I have suffered
And by God done I am
Lord..
So many characters
Too many teachers
Yell and try to tell
How to sauce
The spice of life
By virtue
Two are true
So boo woo
And I am just
A baby day old.
Two you fall in love
4 you will rue
They break your heart
In 25 pieces
And give you
Zero back.
It's the beginning
They four get
And it end's
Like 12th of never
Nevermind
Some were I source
Yes eyesore's they were
They endangered species
They remember
And blame you 33 times.
B 4 U
Put them on ice
Have a double
And tot with no trouble.
Now a triple
And equal them
To zero.
I once went to supper
We eight
The food was dumb
Their woman beautiful.
Even 11 is even
If you hush out 1
Now I am one
Goin solo
Not duo
First in line
Sho go away
Want to be alone
Whimper somewhere else.
Icy C the sea
It's my album.
I start my life
To count
Up to five.
I know the abc
A B C
It's incredible code.
I am no 123456789
Use the calculator
Electric arithmetic
One in a billion
Nor the first
I count on me' self
Digit fidget fiddle
The credit or debit
Switch don't twiddle
A stitch saves nine
Overdrafted with
NineTea six
Needles and pins
Arithmetic rhythm
Hum de wow
After 5 minutes
Hum de whaa.
Caught 22
You get it ...
Make that change
You with 007 figure ? ..
Copyright relax ..
Odd man very odd
You will be 66 and
Still outstanding gold.
Zero zero seven
I give you 10
from 10.
But I ..
A Adam
Eye for one
Be the first 1
In A billion.
2 Whom it may concern
So now you happy
You know me
Or You.
Which is the greatest conduct of them all,
which one denies terpitude & futility most strenuously,
which exhalts productivity & nobility most vigorously,
is there a single method of action, behavior of best results
that is preeminent & priority above all others, a vangaurd conduct marshalling the rest,
I am the voice of Sympathy,
where there is woe, misery, lamentations abounding like leaves on trees
you'll find me, not as uplifting but reveling,
speaking as Efficiency I confidently state that none is more pivatol
to success or goal, on my balance constructs & destructs are indistinct,
Compassion, the cornerstone of virtue, I am enabler of empathy,
the isolated instructor from within,
the summons of sorrow & vision of victory,
as Education I say essentially,
expansion of intellect shrinks the world & ignites ingenuity
fascillitating personal progress like the breeze pollenates,
the attitude of Art, this is I, violent epiphany,
serene sensations & resolute reflections,
a communicator of a cosmic kind, imagination hammering,
I'm the bell holler,
the quaint choir of warm Exhaltation,
a muse of meditations & mandalas, I build temples from tissues
and citadels where fears nest,
calculator of consequences, a storm of precise pursuit,
I am that which commands, conquers & survives demolition,
Leadership, heart's precinct,
you cannot deny my supremacy,
I am that ravenous stimulation which can kill or invite life,
Copulation is the term, that impetus which fascinates,
Love is my name,
I engender shame, pride & sacrafice,
a mountain whose summit always rises,
I arouse life forces to ever increasing standards,
Warfare, desire's demon,
you all blame me for the wrongs & feverishly recruit me
when your charms fail,
I am fire upon the soft flower of rewards -
J.A.B.
I am sitting at my desk attempting at some prose
But nothing seems to come to me nothing to compose
My minds a canvas blank not two words can I rhyme
So I try counting backwards just to pass the time
Then without a conscious reason except for boredom's reach
I open my desk drawer to a mixture of mystique
A magnetic magic bracelet used to cure my rheumatism
Surrounded now with pins and staples an error in optimism
A yellow wooden pencil its rubber now a stub
An unused lifetime membership to some forgotten club
A mechanical lead pencil with no refills in sight
A bottle of used white-out the top cemented tight
Post-it notes with messages which I can't understand
Telephone numbers without a name not written in my hand
Ballpoint pens with dried-up ink no longer do they write
A solar-powered calculator gone flat for lack of light
Rubber-bands that no longer stretch and little bits of string
Two black dice and a deck of cards missing a red king
Sun glasses a mini racing car and a worn-out golf shoe cleat
A funny little package which reads "Silica Do Not Eat
Orange sore-throat soothers now melted to a bar
Finger-nail clippers picture hooks and a pick for a guitar
A polishing cloth and a lucky charm that never seemed to pay
Needle and cotten a used band-aid and a bottle of nasal spray
Screw drivers erasers fluro-pens that have gone dry
Sticky tape a set of keys and a flashy bright bow-tie
This jumble of confusion has failed to solve my plight
I'll just keep counting backwards till I find something to write
I stopped writing...
For a moment, I never knew myself
What am I searching for every layer of this shelf?
Could it be you? The one who told me to 'keep writing'
Should I thank you for breaking down my walls?
Might as well write down this thoughts, for you to find out
I always think about you, waiting for your call
Not sure how many times I convinced myself to get over you, that even the calculator can't count.
I stopped writing....
Maybe one day I'll try to keep going,
Ignore the voices in my head that keeps on pulling me down and never stopped repeating
'cause it's time to let go of the things that are not worth having.
I wanna keep writing...
So I tried composing and take down the words that even myself wasn't able to comprehend
Should I consider it 'the end'?
Became undeniably dumb towards you, believed to be the craziest thing
I'll keep writing...
Someday, I wanna be so sure of my thoughts
I wanna be brave for 'what ever happens, happens'
I envy you for having that kind of perspective and was able to stand for what you believe.
So I'll keep writing hoping one day, I'll finally have the courage to put my words into action.
Here’s a little bit of news that might not be of interest to you but I’ll tell you anyway…
Bryan, our eldest son, turns 45 today.
Here’s another little bit of news to share as we travel down life’s path…
each year we get a little older…no matter how we try…we can’t escape the math.
“Deborah! Help me out.”
I asked since I’ve never been very good at adding numbers in my head.
“If Bryan is 45…that makes me…
After punching numbers into her calculator,
“Old!” Is what she said.
45…how that number brings back memories of a time not so long ago when a younger me played my 45 PRM records on my stereo.
“My grandpa called it a gramophone.” I told Deborah, “if the truth be told…I remember how I was but a child then…and my grandpa…he was old.”
Still punching numbers on her calculator…Deborah smiled then said, “Wow!”
“Your grandpa was around 69 years old back then…and you’re that same age now!”
I can’t be as old as the numbers say…I thought in words best left unspoken.
I think there is a very good chance…Deborah’s calculator must be broken.
Because here’s some other more important news
that, for me, with each years gains more and more appeal:
my wrinkles show only how old by body is…
not how old I feel.
I’m glad to wish Bryan a 45th Happy birthday…
as he travels down his chosen path…
while at the same time discovering…
There is a way to escape the math.
When it comes to the mathematics of age
and numbers and birthdays…I have simply redefined it…
and I’ve hidden Deborah’s calculator
in a place she’ll never find it
im irish
outta new york
your 2 turn in a table
gutter pork
fake brass rings detailing how
wedding ventures
meet her news cow
ill and straight
the dhali llama's
trying to show you
how nazi's brew
throw in one jew
now celebrate the kings wife
she's hung like dmx on top of kobe
these are some objectives and adjectives
help sums grow up
grewsome's is a vowel
mispaced the sentence
outside your lyricist, my old acquaintance
clauses and gangs go back like jezebel
she his daddy, he dont ask for lunch
dumping registers at confession
the worlds gonna die
hes torching fella's
back to the doctoring
thats he has a phd
in patching news in
just as the aorta implodes
now momma's family used to drive mr patton
gotta clue about how robotic his dvr habits
i all alone, my lifes work is about housing laws
just for the hell of it, i'll describe why
people grow up in democracy
get flushed out in american
thats a credit card
nazi's embezzled our granparents with 'em
like holocaust bars
same old owner on the ship
rocking chairs and social security hips
oldest cons in the game
very honest
still nobody to guillotine and blame
his bank account never dark budgets
me im a egotistical calculator in your village
Thinking of the bay that daily gush
From our ray on this lengthy voyage.
This at first wasn't envisage to be created,
For our calculator has failed us in haste.
Yes in haste it has failed us.
Despite the mountains of conferences and aluta,
Which has taken ocean from our skin.
In smart cerebral, they lay us still in their cave.
Not that warning hasn't been placed on us.
Yet in anticipation for liberation, our drums made close.
Ominira inira, ominira inira.
Was the statement that could have stopped us,
In falling prey of their menace.
October first I hail you and celebrate your wisdom.
Through ages and generations we shall sing your praise.
How have you come to place this yoke on our neck?
You're curse in all the days of the year.
Oh you're bless in realisation of our foolishness.
Thank you for making us to know our doom.
Foetus wey come out with pupu no go be person.
Na blood dem go be for dem no wait for their period.
To hell with those that have made this call for us.
Not for our good, but for their belly in praise.
We sing their praise, yes we will daily sing.
That no sooner than their Masters left,
That their missions clearly known.
The essence of Reformation was laid to rest.
After the birth of oloibiri our glory slain.
Now like handicaps we depend on our neighbours.
Yes we're handicaps, yet in wealth our loan daily grows.
Greatly dear Divine
On you our hope and the generations to come do lay.
You own the heart of Kings and chiefs
And control same to your satisfaction.
We pray you to touch our hearts and our leaders.
For in this lane we're, our Jesus may come soon.
Make for us leaders that will obey you.
Not as those in 2015 that deceit is their clothes.
Hope we thought they'd give but blames they through.
We've done this, yes we've done it.
Aso ko ba omoye mo, omoye tirin roro woja.
We have done this, yes we know our wrong
Our hope is In for total liberation from this slavery
Before we become Samaria of this generation.
© olorunleke olorode.
The Complicated World
The world has become so complicated
People never talk to people
Electronics do the talking for us
Our phones take away private time
We are never truly alone
Cars tell us where to go
And what we should see on the way
Newspapers aren’t made of paper
Delivered through the air to our screens
The same with books
Turning the page just isn’t cool anymore
200+ channels to make everyone a star
Even if you do not have talent to will be an idol
Concerts and sports are televised
So you don’t have to leave the house
God forbid you gather together with other people
The kids are called to dinner by email
Bullying doesn’t take place on the schoolyard
Even surgeries are done by doctors a thousand miles away
Everything is done without seeing the other person
When will the day come when things will get worse
People will completely forget how to talk to each other
It will be hard to remember what another human being looks like
Babies will be conceived through a website
And even a child’s rattle with be computerized
Whatever happened to the good old days
When people got to meet other people
Eat together or share a beer together
Even fight together
Without something telling them what to do
Or talking for them
This world is confusing
I pray for a return to the good old days
When a calculator was the only computer I owned
And I looked people in the eyes and said hello