Long Clicker Poems
Long Clicker Poems. Below are the most popular long Clicker by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Clicker poems by poem length and keyword.
I will not be late to work today
I will get there on time
I will brush my teeth
Without singing songs
Without thinking about birthdays
About gymnasiums
About TAKS
About sound
About war
Republicans
Democrats
Independents
I will get there on time
I will eat my oatmeal
Without thinking of
Broken valentines
Strewn against a wooden
Fence
Like dropped goblets
From a robbers pillowcase
I will be there before the bell rings
My papers will be checked
My hair will be combed
My mind will be alert
Ready to begin my lesson
I will not wonder why
My oldest son doesn’t have a job
I will not pray too long
For my daughter who is taking the bar today
At 10:30 AM in New Orleans
I will not scar my knees wishing
For some alternate world
Where children are never neglected
Or hurt
Where there is no abandonment
What nonsense to try and order the world
Just get to work on time
Put your things in the car, your projector and
The white binders that you didn’t look at
All weekend although you were supposed to check the papers and put the
grades on the computer
I will leave now
Before it is impossible to
Be on time
I will cream my ashy ankles
I will not focus on the white
Cat on the black pillow
With the green eyes
I will not water the plant
I will not watch TV
I will not write poetry
Before work
I will not write poetry
Before work
I will get to work on time
I will be ready
I will not be daydreaming about fog
Wondering if I’ll get Alzheimer’s like my mother
Or colon cancer like my dad
I won’t be thinking about that stuff
I will be locking the front door and
Closing the gate and clicking the clicker
And starting the car and leaving
I will not be in my living room
Wondering if there is any reason to love
Because I do not love for reason
I love because He first loved me
It is not incantations or intoxication
Or imagination it is my life and
The structure will come with the
Clearness of Bajan water
So clear you can see the fish
Fly float across the Atlantic
It is time
This poem must end
I will not be late for work
This morning
Not for nothing
Not for nobody
Not for anything
Not for everything
This poem is over
the work day begins
Yellow, blue clicker
Translucent, serrated, deep navy ink
Metal ball, thin fine ink
You accompany me
You dance over blank paper and bring it to life for me
What you do for me is so appreciated!
Your smallest mark touches my heart
Your words, expressions may be forgettable
But you aren't!
I would be lost without you!
I found you in a box of many similar
One day you will run out, replaceable with
Another from the same box
I appreciate your fine lines
Your doing as my mind bids
Flitting across the pages and lines
Sometimes I click you off.
You won't pour onto my clothes, my bags, my pockets!
Sometimes you are very very bad!
Spewing all over
You end up in the rubbish bin, replaceable!
Sometimes you turn on in my pocket,
Poke a hole through my purse, jab me
When I sit down!
'How bloody thoughtless you are!
Treating me like that!
I don't deserve to be treated like this!'
So I found a wire bound journal
You may sit discreetly inside, in the coils.
That is your place!
Please stay there!
Don't wander off!
As sometimes I just can't find you and the panic when I need you and you're gone
I look everywhere for you, upturning papers, books, looking under tables, chairs,
pulling out the rug,
“Oh where oh where are you?”
Oh the anguish,
And then you appear as if magically from nowhere
Hanging in mid air
Saying 'What's the fuss? I'm here now. I was always here.
You just didn't look for me in all the right places.'
Accusing me of wasting time...
I'm too busy smiling to notice, to hear those rough words.
I grab you, I've found you again!
And off we go to pour out my thoughts once again,
Like a tap turned on forever.
Expensive addiction, this thing called TV,
like a zombie I become when I sit upon
my brown plush sofa.
Beside me my little dog Dizzy rolls her
eyes as she thinks to herself, "Here goes another boring day,
my mom won't get up off her fat behind and play - no my mom
always has an excuse like the medicines she has to take make her
too tired, or that the weather is too hot or too cold, might as well
stay in.
So here we sit and I watch her watch one show, and then the next,
often she does this as she stuffs her face saying that her blood sugar
would get too low if she did not eat.
Sometimes she even watches Doctor OZ if one of her other shows
are not on, and my mom will sit there paying close attention to all
he says even while stuffing herself with a PB&J. She says I will
get to that healthier routine right away...
Then there are times she will stop watching TV just enough
to look around the house at the chores that are waiting to be done,
then she adjusts the volume on the clicker and shrugs her
shoulders, meaning that she is putting off the chores for another
time, for another day.
I do get her to take me for walks after I lay upon her shoulders
and lick her face into submission, oh don't worry she spoils me
beyond compare and that' why slowly but surely I am getting her
to take each day much more seriously. I tell her to not waste time,
let's go out and play, get what needs to be done out of the way!
She call me a Jesus dog, a little furry angel with invisible wings.
Well all I have to say to that... It's possible!"
Walking along the way
Enjoying the company every day
Careful to never take for granted
That time is slightly slanted
...to tick
Click, click, was that a hicc UP
Wait, no...what!?!
It can NOT
be true
I never noticed
That time had voted
To bring you new
opportunity
without
me
No one asked me
No one cared to see
If I was done being
If I was done with needing
your presence
the intoxicating joy
of your perfect essence
just.....gone...
It's over......you grew
Time tricked and ticked,
then
clicked you
Out of my nurturing ground
Without so much as a sound
Of warning
How can I rejoice in your growth
When you have built your own boat
With the tools I gave you from my shed
I knew you would leave one day
But never could I have imagined in the way
You left the home where I had provided a nice bed
to be at peace
It's that stupid time ticker
That takes the clicker
And runs you past the place
Where intimacy shares
And LOVE fully cares
In the moment of empty space
Written by Trudy Schrader on 06-27-2018
society is tripping
they got new sport suits for the latest trend
my mind is scrambling like ham in eggs
Bust a nut in a rut some time before
many are tripping out with a two bit whore
people are people so why should it be
you & I live together so awfully
I want to scream but I got hoop dreams
Comb over Trump is president but he hasn't made a dent
we got some screws loose in our brains
not having the television clicker in hand is driving me insane
it used to mean something to hold open a door
but that was so 1974 it don't exist anymore
we still got flower power but it takes place in the shower
we honor the dead with mixed messages in our head
these are desolate times
yet we settle for ill but faded rhymes
the casualties are enormous
for a stated cause that's atrocious
so I build this sanctuary in my mind & no I'm not blind
you really suck the nation is going to hell but
I still got a great story to tell
a winner is still another loser that falls but gets up & gives it one last try..
What is my last reply ?
we all need to grow & shut the hell up !
During the industrial revolution,
Poe’s raven spoke with elocution;
“Nevermore”, now we’ve a solution,
just you wait for distribution.
We’ve invented great machines,
clicker-clankers, sure to please,
With cogs and wheels that spin with ease
and long, tired days, they will soon cease.
Wondrous gauges, invented by sages,
power-piping giant bird cages;
oh the miracles of the ages,
carefully crafted in small stages.
Just wait and see, you will adore,
hard working backs won’t break anymore,
travelling with steam, from shore to shore
is truly a great way to explore.
Guess what, you’re going to also fly,
like the birds up in the skies;
keep your glass eye, nearby
soon automobiles will be passing by.
Just don your top hat, c’mon gents;
oh, things may cost a few more cents.
just imagine the automated presents,
you can buy, let the future commence!
when screams of children being bombed &
women being raped to the sounding drumbeat of war,
some trip over their feet to turn the knob
to click the clicker, change the channel
to
run
run
run away
from the real tragedy spitting back in your face
because the modern conveniences that make your life
cushy
are the same fueling the masquerade that’s destroying lives & killing others
all across the world---
there is no system of checks n’ balances---
the figures of the dead are only accounted for by the winners for the
winners,
and history will have no place for you if you need something that
they are not willing to concede.
for some this is all just easy listening
for some this is all what they run to their cabinet in their kitchen to get the
cleaning fluid to
squeegee the screen
try to make the blood go away
try to make the screams pass on and leave them the rest of their day.
The words we speak
How clever, how cheap
With just a whisper
We turn cities into glitter
I feel the need for mourning
No, it’s just no good
We’re just no good
What’s the use in proselytizing
The enigmatic, homophobic, problematic, religious fanatic?
Speaking words with little meaning
What’s the use in spewing words with no residual resonance?
Clicking the clicker, hoping for a flicker
Just a bit of sugary static
The manic’s are always the ones to leave everything undone
We make fun of worthless things
Wealthy women with loaded egos
Surrounded by air heads, a multitude of morons
It’s bad enough I have to endure feelings I can’t express
Must I entertain the notion of a people with good intentions?
Left captive in a cage
Stuck here, engaged in a fit of rage
I hope to negate the arrogant & obstinate
From enjoying the fruits of my cerebral labor.
lean back n’
close your
eyes---pretend
that no one is
around even if
someone is---
crack open yer
beverage of
choice pick it
up in your hand
ooh that plastic
perfection with
its slick rubber
buttons & dive
right into the
drama---you are
at the hilt of
western
civilization n’
where you are
smothering
yourself in
leisure &
complacence,
others in the
world are
struggling a
struggle that
you’ll never
know because
you’re bio-rents
chose to do the
nasty here,
instead of those
places that you
might only find
in quick-cut news
reports when
something we
want is jeopardized
for a split second
by something that
is actually needed
by those with less
than us---keep
clicking & maybe
just maybe you’ll
get an excerpt
regarding anything
like this, perhaps,
if they have a lil’
bit of garbage time
which they can’t
fill.
Okay Guys, let's do our thing,
The game is almost on,
So get some beer and chips or nuts,
And chairs to sit upon.
Okay Guys, let's buy some tools,
So we can look like handy men.
Hammer, Wrench, and Pliers too,
We'll surely use them again and again.
Okay Guys, let's fix that shelf,
So the pictures won't tumble down.
It will only take a few minutes,
Then our sorrows we can drown.
Okay Guys, let's go out on a date,
We can see a movie or a show.
We'll ask the girls to join us,
And hope they won't say "NO".
Okay Guys, let's watch TV,
With the clicker in our hand.
It's the only time we have control,
When we feel in FULL COMMAND!
Okay Guys, the Girls still love us,
At least that's what they say...
So let's just enjoy this moment in time,
THEY get the rest of the day!