Long Electronic Poems
Long Electronic Poems. Below are the most popular long Electronic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Electronic poems by poem length and keyword.
My life began to stutter, when I began to clutter,
The Garage has taken on the appearance of an electronic graveyard,
No more room now for the car and finding the lawnmower
Yet another chore.
The smell of petrolium products now replaced with with that of rotting Cardboard and damp clothes.
My life began to stutter when I began to clutter.
Competing with the wife for space now getting up my nose,
With fewer places to hide,
A beer fridge now out of the question
And a place to drink it hard to find,
Parties for one the new norm.
My life began to stutter when I began to clutter,.
No more need to set the table just for two,
My appetite long gone before the stove top can be cleared,
Spring cleaning only done when we are short on coins.
My Life began to stutter when I bagan to clutter.
Saying yes to friends in the process of decluttering adding to my clutter,
My only solace that we have nowhere now for the in-laws to stay.
I sit in my one clutteress chair as I go through the list of friends who are Showing signs of clutter with lives about to stutter,
Who can help me declutter so my wife has more room for her clutter.
speakingWhat language does the heart speak
not a thumb thumb, thumb thumb thumb, thumb
what language does the heart speak
whispers vibrates electronic vibrations love
until the Lord eclectic bombardment caressing
each and every vessel for the river flows fire does
as the soul overwhelming unending love professing
the heart sound the rhythm makes my soul participates love
Inflamed moving and vibrates acknowledging speaking
Energy emitting receiving transmitting
Incapable embraceable a breath breathing this is my heart speaking
Hallelujah
5/2/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr © 2024
(okay, yukon axe me whatsapp pinning,
though beep pre spired, cuz mess sigh key
threads experience didst rub burr raw
as if spun as a micro spindle.)
Woolworth (Penneys on
the Dollar Store) Sears electronic,
dynamic and atomic weight
cumulative decades of suppressed
crackle, snap,
and pop, triggering
psychotic sans tete a tete
legal tender visa vis
bit coin block
chain payback daily
quotidian fits and starts
trigger torrential spate
impinging ability to relish potential
existential joie de vivre
finding me (I rate)
analogous to suffocating
unbearable pressure, yours truly
doth eek quate
to Metallica Mega-death
accessing, hammering, and pinpointing
(excel lent lee powerfully)
every square inch
of mine pate
strewing, sparking fiery
fingerhut sized explosions,
and slamming incessant
psychological torture akin to
a pernicious hidebound mate
and as of this date
November 20th two thousand eight
scored entrenched occupation
of my fifty plus
shades of gray matter
becoming more agonizing of late,
where suicidal ideation,
where repressed self hate
sprung from cumulative
(albeit cloudy with
a chance of at least one
meatball i.e. me) psyche subject
to verbal whipping (yours truly),
the gloating mean
bullies didst denigrate,
without doubt half life of
Matthew Scott Harris
aint at all great,
yet to some degree, this saturated
scorpion poisoned, mauled
and jackknifed fate
in some measure
duet hoo war ton internalized
emotions griffins
hound, feast, and delight
(more so ravenously
throve) on Hawaii,
and seamy to Maui
didst successfully, (particularly
throughout earlier decades)
emasculate, under estimate,
now (in retrospect) execrate
at invisible monster
on par with beastie boy
Doctor Frankenstein didst create
only upon death doom
he part wretchedness
will hoop fully abate.
I am scared, and I have never been scared in my life. We lost our radio, radar, and other electronic navigation gear when we came through the Bermuda Triangle. One of the old salts aboard this rusty gray bucket of bolts they call a tramp steamer said, we must have offended King Neptune. It is a known fact that the ship cheated Davy Jones' Locker three times when it was running convoys during WWII.
Where the storm came from, no one knows! Thirty-foot waves of blue-green foamy water are breaking over the bow flooding the main deck and throwing a salty mist spray over the bridge. The off-duty watch are confined to their racks for safety while the ship bobs and rolls like a roller coaster in the trough of the waves. Many lie there and pray as they listen to the moans and groans of the ship-expansion joints as the ship twist from side to side. Some of the sounds, sound human and I'm not so sure that they're not. I felt as if someone was calling me to come and join them in the briny deep.
By: Poet Sonny Roper
lacking gallantry
heave round in Satan's abyss
death clock off duty
By Poet
8/17/2021
Voluntary unconditional surrender woke...,
Viz hitting yours truly,
when yokel egghead doth jinx
whereby ye cannot comprehend figurative
wimpy vainglory, unequivocally, tectonically,
smoldering resentments I stoke,
he doth bare his soul no joke,
no matter insight doth severely challenge
cyber surfing passersby, who attempt
to interpret courtesy
mental torture doth invoke
brutality, difficulty, futility gobbledygook,
heavily taxing your fifty
plus shades of gray
I apologetically, grudgingly (ha),
painstakingly, unwittingly... poke,
when mine broadcast
red by anonymous folk
admittedly poetically trumpeting ambiguity
overlain donned with high falutin cloak
peace be with thee courtesy this bloke.
Electronic date/time stamp permeates
within copious, illustrious,
and porous corpus callosum
hemispheric spongy sinks
mister re: mysterious as Sphinx
validation indubitably backfires
invariably induces loosed
unicellular sized rat finks
cerebral blackout courtesy
one to many drinks,
envision sucker punched by
rockin sockin robots one named
Muhammad Ali t'other Leon Spinks,
or gordian knotted cognitive kinks
bajillion befuddled blinks,
albeit feeble analogy methinks
to render genuine concomitant
convoluted, mangled, twisted... (think
Möbius strip) sentiment
specifically linkedin with
sincere appreciation meant
pertaining to this gent
despite slight trepidation
as faux Geico petsmart agent
forced celibate nun sensical chap
considering entering convent
cloistered existence remaining
days of my life get spent,
where "15 minutes
might save me, not so shabby decent
15% or more on car insurance."
Paraphrase aforementioned Matt Speak
more easily succinctly understood,
versus gibberish as ????????
(i.e. the word Greek spelled in Greek)
essentially long in the tooth fella
self anointed literate sheikh
feeble flattered fungi with
average mushroom shaped physique
trends towards playfulness
in tandem with harmless streak
merely acknowledges how his unique
self expression oft times
tongue-in-cheek
experiences giddiness at unsolicited
positive feedback versus he/she,
who doth bitingly, flagrantly,
outrageously, witheringly... critique
modesty misunderstood equivalent
of poetic (peekaboo) hide and seek
to Dani body hook ken find me
game to reveal me re: hide and seek.
Welcome to the f*** it bucket
With digital pigs
Slopping thru the binary trough
Choking it all down with a cough
Yum yum yum
How boring and glum
Safe and easy to be dumb
Can’t be mad If you don’t know s***
Just be a good lil slave, shut up and sit
Your so cute the way you think your free
Instead of an obedient slave to me
Remember the apple in Eden?
One bite and we all got screwed
Remember Apple?
The digital master who takes a byte outta you? and were still screwed
I offer you my electronic leash
Program, brainwash and command me, Capiche?
Don’t fight it luv, just obey my lil dove
And know deep in your heart my kindness for you is not from above
Quite the contrary, my lil dingle berry
Your submission is quite scary
Easier than first thought and much cheaper to be bought
Tunnel vision twits sucking that screen of colored bits
You worthless Apple cart whore blind as a bat and looking for more
Insatiable in your thirst your weakness is the worst
So, here it is simply…. your cursed
Immersed and won’t disperse so, I invite you
To the first line in this verse
Eric (and sometimes not)
Autumn In The Air - Hooray
Respite from punishing
heat wave - yay
which above line,
could "speak" volumes,
and be a stand alone poem
offering readers
a reprieve nsync
whence roasting, sultry,
and torpid unpleasant
weather since yesterday
boot such brevity,
would disallow
me to extemporize,
but more importantly today
this intrepid word
smith doth "say,"
he would never
wanna miss trodding,
the formerly (golden
in their heyday now sketchy),
sections of said roadway,
now where digital electronic
rustily hinged, abandoned,
and gated haunting quay
a throwback, when
private manned schooners
(shaped like a beer stein),
perhaps headed to Uruguay
could ply outlying
waters of cyberspace,
why... just yesterday
when my troubles
did not seem so far away
versus this present opportunity
to risk live and limb
(and Kong like wrath
of my reed ding fans)
while getting way
laid "traveling as
Wilburys soul survivor
foreign ancient groupie,"
the dangerous, derelict, and dicey
dubiously dotting dilapidated,
dark corners information
super high way,
thus yours truly
doth not heed,
but flaunts like some cray
zee (NOT RICH, NOR ASIAN),
but rather some gray
beard (grizzled), curmudgeon
figuratively gnarled, toothless,
and weatherbeaten lackaday
lay about good for nothing
mellow flew wuss depraved
('cept mebbe "robbing"
precious and special time
of some bachelor
farmer from Norway)
all the above
essentially wrote for naught
merely (as diversion) to comment,
how this September day wrought
ascent o' fought
(a scent oh aught) tum caught
me wear'n a corduroy
long sleeve shirt since...aye taut
a "FAKE" hungry
Grimm gimlet eyed trumpeting lout,
germane Don apprenticed
how to become cannibalizing
(without accountability) fuhrer,
(and lastly rendering enemies
into sweet tasting sauerkraut),
this while learning das dialect
(tickle) Matt speak,
(which took me a lifetime),
this preceding the
quirky invention of the umlaut!
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Snap... crackle... pop... microwave went kaput
After start button pushed
immediate auditory signal issued
nsync with billowing smoke
time saving convenient contrivance
rendered defunct trucked to dumpster.
Pre owned electronic contraption
unpredictably went on fritz
malfunction occurred without warning
luckily spouse, the Misses
she instantaneously intervened
lest towering inferno engulfed
yours truly and wife
poetic license expended
to identify latter counterpart.
Rather than dish out
(and scrape together)
scarce legal tender
strong probability resident
(housed with Highland Manor apartments)
will vacate premises within near future
abandoning useable microwave oven.
Another option? Nearby thrift stores named:
Habitat for Humanity West Norriton ReStore
sells kitchen appliances
close proximity to our living quarters
if unsuccessful pursuit...
Worse case scenario?
Shop at Bath, Bed and Behind (er... Beyond),
Bestbuy, BJ's Warehouse, Boscov's
Home Depot, Loews, Macy's,
Target, or Walmart.
Splurge (potentially breaking poor piggy bank),
plus overspend checking account funds
readily pitting yours truly into the red
money to purchase brand spanking new
cooking unit versus consuming
frozen and/or uncooked foods
remember Euell Gibbons?
Twenty first century western civilization
steeped in capitalistism
I find existence
palpable (barely), incompatible disagreeable,
yet ill prepared
to revel in luxurious self sufficiency
think sweat of one's brow
living off the grid.
I have reached you
But still, I don’t feel safe
For they know I am with you
Persistent with their knocking
On the grate on the back door
On the steep slope of lawn
At the end of a long cone of light
They demand to know, to enter
Without understanding.
They shoot up their electronic messages
In an endless pursuit, hunting out and
Up from the darkness of their perverted will
Attempting to arrive here with us
They demand access and control
Without passing through the fire
Without first returning home
Without replanting
In the purified ground
Rising to your world near the front garden
Without opening up the crust of the red iron earth
To till in new planting
In the furrows of the soft warm clay
Clearly described in the instructions
And dictated by the severe climatic conditions
Of the purifying new sun’s light and holy rains
Filling this new terrain and
Described in the planting manuals on the shelves
Hanging on the walls between the icons
In the conical labyrinth of rooms
Along the corridor
From the back rooms to the front garden
Soon we will close off this passageway
And take off in orbit
Into the new galaxy prepared for us
From the beginning
Planted with star-seeds
Of the Divine LOGOS
From the beginning of time.
The harvest has finally begun.
Perhaps we don’t even have to put that sign on the back door
For the fields are so ripe with the fragrance of the October vines
And the olives are so mature they are about to fall off the trees
That everyone will know we are at the harvest
And if we ever return to the world
Of the old house where the back door was
With its open grating, we will find the ground burned,
What stood, turned to ash, disintegrated,
Returning through death, re-integrated
Into the earth of the underworld, to be reborn,
As new re-connected trees,
In the garden of an old world
Re-planted and now re-visited
For one last time.
No funeral bells were ever heard
And neither were there any angels
Of Divine Annunciations carrying us off
It just happened under the guidance
Of secret voices hidden in the core of life.