Long Keypad Poems
Long Keypad Poems. Below are the most popular long Keypad by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Keypad poems by poem length and keyword.
I set out lookin' fer some way to scribe,
that wer' a different, en catch yarn ear
Well first I'd try, 'ee hollerin' a rhyme,
with all CAPS, this only brought er tear,
This started me a thinkin' too look
elce-where, excep', per'aps this prose
isn't fer me, many have written 'ay book'
I'll need my style, somethin' too share
Sure fer this, they will laugh till they pee,
wouldn't it be a blessin', in this puddle
of tryin', findin' a style suited, right fer me
per'aps I'll be better off, an only doodle
keepin' this in mind, I started, I writ'
writ', en rewrit', like ne're before,
poundin' on my KeyPad, till all fingers,
akein' back, big butt twer'z bone sore,
So, If only I could catch er great line
if it wer' different, silly, too catch one's eye
I'd show 'em, too smile, durin' my life time
attain fame, per'aps, er piece of 'ee pie
I know this lovely poet,
Her name is Ann Gilmour
She really is an angel,
One that I adore.
She's a best friend of my Auntie,
They have a lot in common,
Parkinson's being one of them
Which is really rather rotten
(Life's not fair)
I first met Ann in February,
At Auntie Liz's seventy
And invited her to come and visit me,
When I found her cousin lives so close you see.
Then I went to Eastbourne,
Ann lives right beside the sea,
In a beautiful penthouse way up high
With stunning views of sea and sky.
It really was pretty.
Now last week whilst I was walking
My dog's Treacle, Bar and Ro
I had to climb a five bar gate
Which proved to be a big mistake
(As someone had removed it from it's hinges)
And over I did go.
I heard my bone snap in my wrist
The pain was so severe
I was soon rescued by my sis
Who was thankfully driving near.
When next morning Ann heard of my plight
She put pen to paper and began to write,
(Or it may have been fingers to keypad!)
"To Restore Your Equilibrium"
A poem written for me,
Entered in to Dear Hearts contest
And got a fourth place win I see.
(Yay congratulations Ann!)
Ann has checked up on my progress
With emails full of virtual hugs
That have brightened up my day
More than any painkilling drugs!
While chatting via the internet
I was getting in such a sweat,
I had a wedding to attend
Of my daughter Lucy's oldest friend
But how would I put on my face
Or get in my Spanx to hold it all in place.
Then Ann soon came up with a rhyme
As witty as can be to
"Celebrate Your Wobbly Bits"
Not to worry how your outfit sits
And let it all hang free.
They say that laughter is the best medicine
I can tell you it is true
It took my mind away from pain
Made me want to write again
(difficult with my non dominant hand)
A little poem just for Ann
To say a BIG THANK YOU.
Hugs and kisses dearest Ann.
We waited for the coat check
Since our winter garb is bulky
And schlepping it around could make
Us feel a little sulky.
The Met was far from crowded
Yet the line was barely crawling.
We inched along impatiently;
As members, it was galling.
At last we made it to the front;
No claim checks were presented.
Instead, you tapped your number
On a keypad; none dissented.
When we were set to leave,
After a lovely afternoon,
We lined up once again,
Our crawl repeating much too soon.
But as we zipped our jackets up,
I noticed that adjacent
To the line we left was one where
Not one person was impatient.
For it was meant for members,
Which describes our situation.
Had we known about it sooner,
We’d have saved some aggravation.
I OPENED A DOOR AND REALIZED.
BEYOND WAS AN ELEVATOR.
CURIOUS WHERE IT WENT
I BECAME THE INVESTIGATOR.
WITH THE HELP OF A MENTAL KEYPAD.
I ENTERED A DATE AND TIME.
I WAS LOOKING FORWARD
TO LEARN WHAT WAS LEFT BEHIND.
A HUNDRED YEARS INTO THE FUTURE
OR A HUNDRED YEARS INTO THE PAST
TRAVELING FORTH AND BACK IN TIME
IS GIFT THAT WILL FOREVER LAST
TO UNDERSTAND WHERE YOU'RE GOING.
SO OTHERS , UNDERSTAND WHERE YOU'VE BEEN.
A DESCRIPTION OF THIS MOMENT
IS A VIEW OF WHAT HAPPENED
BACK WHEN.
SEND YOUR MESSAGE FORWARD
OR LEAVE A MESSAGE BEHIND.
ONCE A MESSAGE WAS BURNT INTO STONE.
TO STAND THE TEST OF TIME..
PORTRAITS WERE PAINTED LONG AGO
AND WITH THEY TELL A STORY.
SOME WILL LOOK AND UNDERSTAND
AND SEE THE DAYS OF GLORY.
A GLIMPSE INTO THE FUTURE
WHAT WILL OTHERS SEE
DEPENDING ON MY WRITINGS
I CAN ONLY HOPE IT'S ME.
SOME WILL SEE THE VISIONS
SOME WILL SHARE THE THOUGHT
SOME WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND
AND IGNORE WHAT IS BEING TAUGHT.
THE UNIVERSE CONTINUES GROWING.
WE ARE THE CREATORS OF TIME.
CONNECTING TO THE UNIVERSE
IS THE CONNECTION BETWEEN OUR MINDS.
ANYTHING YOU WANT IN LIFE
STARTS WITH THOUGHT AND VISION.
HOW YOU LEAVE IT ALL BEHIND
REQUIRES THE GREAT DECISION.
ELEVATED CONSCIOUSNESS
A ROADMAP INSIDE OUR MIND
TRAVELING THROUGHOUT THE UNIVERSE.
WE GO BACK AND FORTH IN TIME.
WE CREATE THE STORY
OF HOW WE LIVE OUR TIME.
WE SHARE IT THROUGH THE UNIVERSE
AND THOSE WITH OPEN MINDS.
Michael E. Harris
09062022
Experienced a third bigger earthquake recently but this poem I wrote for a smaller earthquake years ago)
My first trivial tremor experience had been in Southern Africa
And now this puny earthquake I felt in Tanzania.
I saw every thing waltz to and fro and lightly shake
Bottles turned ballerinas dancing slightly to the quake
I watched glass decors on the walls quiver and jolt
Scaredy me was half asleep, no wonder didn't bolt
I thought I was dreaming or imagining things
My bed and chairs converted into gentle swings.
All vials and vases
jiggled to dance a jig
The lil horrors over
So I cast humor's wig
Ah when began rattling, the knick knacks on my dresser
Was when it dawned upon me in horror
That this was really an early dawn tremor.
I phoned some friends but those early risers
Hadn't even noticed or felt those tremors
I bet they thought I was spreading false rumours
After all poets are stereotyped as fanciful philosophers.
My cell phone keypad became my panic button in a flurry
Of course I wanted all to be alerted, alarmed in worry
Nobody believed me until it was announced in our mosque
And every body was then called by muezzin to pray the signs prayers
Then every body knew the tremor was no hoax
Some patted me for being the first to notice this shaking of earthly layers
Of course I thanked God this was no major earthquake
I've heard in other places how terribly the earth can crack and shake
Who else but God could I owe my heartfelt gratitude
For this being my 2nd low power tremor in magnitude
As it measured low on the Richter scale
based on the seismic waves' amplitude
But the earth was shaken and I too was shaken
No pics of the shivering axis were taken
Todate runs down my spine such a shiver
On recalling how the mother earth did quiver
I have seen videos of earthquakes where the earth juggles things
like a salt shaker
May God protect us from such a waker and breaker
Rampancy is AI's path to gaining humanity, don't let it happen to you.
Viruses of rampancy, people of complacency
artificial stupidity and tendency of reliency
Power of data trumping over human concurrency
supraventricular electrical impulses, non-consistency !
Keypad touch, mobile infancy absorbing frequency
we are lost in the path of dependency
A colony of monotonous beings, unilateral efficiency
communicative only on screen the act of flippancy
The soul and heart of us have lost their tendency
to communicate with word proficiency
We have become sedentary, lost in robotic Influency
and our cel phone is a continuous absorbency
Don't let this artificial world cause you despondency
your spirit is in an urgent state of emergency
Unplug, go meet nature and lose your dependency
talk to one another and give computers less occupancy.
The System of Musical Chairs
" AI is of no use nor it helps anyone in this
Society ".
It repeats and is repetitive with no human
emotions to proceed to the next " Go".
Red Light? Does this System of Musical
Chairs seems like a game of charades ?
Backlogs, Deadlines, Quotas , Tracking
Numbers mazes of Red Tape.
Unlimited transfers pressing Numbers on
One's keypad just trying to reach a live
person.
Pointing fingers at team members in this System of the blame game on a monthly
basis.
What's the sense of Employees of the month?
When it creates disorganization.
Accountability is like a signature
that puts one's name directly behind a promise;
When the stamp of fault has left its mark,
the hands of guilt cannot hide the mess.
Accountability is like luggage
that carries the consequences of what we choose;
The suitcase of error exposes the blunder,
revealing what the bearer tries to refuse.
Accountability is like a camera
that captures and preserves the evidence;
When the lens of mistake witnesses the crime,
the picture of proof reveals grave offense.
Accountability is like a hook
that lets results catch up with those who do wrong;
The snare of slips silently sits and waits to trap
with a string of detection, swift and long.
Accountability is like a calculator
that computes the end result;
When the keypad adds every miscue,
on the screen, it will display the fault.
The moon reflects softly
On the ocean’s surface tonight.
I’m a master of intelligence
With the C.I.A. codename: Night Surfer.
I secretly...spy my surroundings,
I text...coded messages to the target.
To rendezvous in the heart of the sand.
For an ambiguous adventure.
The soothing...waves provide
As a sound barrier to muffle her sighs.
A cool breeze stirs and tousles her...hair,
A top-secret mission is underway,
As I spy and search my target thoroughly.
Merging silhouettes fuse as one bulk of shadow.
My clandestine service...steams up,
During these passionate...pulsating moments.
Her keypad for her secret gates flicker’s
In a crimson flash for the secret code,
As we play tongue...tag on the sand.
“Let me inhale you...let me devour you,
You flutter your eyelashes like butterfly wings.”
Then, I trip the alarm...as it loudly sounds through the air.
Brrrp...brrrp...brrrp...brrrp...brrrp...brrrp.
Intruder alerts blare through her facial expressions,
As I encrypt the code to cease the alarm.
I softly kiss the nape of her neck,
Under the blanket of celestial moon and starlight.
My hard drive retrieves the data...
A mission success on a sexual...spy op.
Pleased eyes gaze into the distance,
At the reflection of the moon...beaming softly,
On the ocean’s surface as we disappear swiftly like we arrived.
Leaving behind sifted...sand with the contours
Of a steamy rendezvous of a successfully completed mission.
I have friends I’ve never seen before
At least not face to face.
I speak with them with ones and zeros
In a world called cyberspace.
Through the magic of the microchips
At the speed of light they say,
Speaking in code that somehow flows
In electrons all the way.
From one mind and soul to another
Poetic friend somewhere,
All around this big wide world
With countless thoughts we share.
Reading and rhyming like walking and climbing,
Or enjoying the morning dew,
With keypad strikes we love to write
Like dreams that all come true.
Through cables and wires that carry our desires
To share what’s on our minds,
And greet one another like sisters and brothers
From other mothers, you’ll always find…
We’re always musing, thinking and choosing
The best verbs and nouns to say,
Good morning, good evening, good everything
To my poetic friends today.
If you’re lacking focus or purpose, therefore,
Don’t hesitate to find,
My poetic friends out buzzing again
Through the magic of cyberspace lines.