Long Optician Poems
Long Optician Poems. Below are the most popular long Optician by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Optician poems by poem length and keyword.
ONE SHOULD NOT MAKE PLANS FOR TOMORROW, LIFE IS UNPREDICTABLE, THE UNEXPECTED CAN HAPPEN IN A SPLIT SECOND. “QUOTE BY POET”
I woke up to a brilliant sunny spring day,
The flowers blooming, the birds were chirping,
The tree leaves dancing to a gentle wind blowing,
Rustling their young leaves, our chime tinkling.
The jacaranda trees which looked so dashing
Giving us a glorious show, their flowers tumbling
To the ground beneath, resembling purple carpeting.
Our annual optician’s appointment was today,
So off to mall we go, reluctant to leave our patio.
We were right on time, and the optician saw me first,
All good he said after my consultation, go have fun
And choose your specs.
Whilst choosing my funky frames, a petrifying noise
Surrounded the mall, the six of us froze.
So scary ,surreal, horrendous and mind boggling,
Loud shots, automatic gun fire, people shouting,
Shots fired from where no one knew, people screaming,
We huddled under the counter, shots still ringing,
The brave receptionist ran to shut the glass door and locked it
Then ran back to join us under the counter.
Normality returned all too soon, as an elderly man who
Seemed shell shocked and disorientated, stumbled in as the
Receptionist cautiously re-opened the door. He told us the
Robbers were professionals, and were in and out in 5 minutes,
Well-rehearsed he added, and the almighty thunderous
Bangs we heard, were from hearsay, that the robbers
Shot and broke the glass display cabinets, taking
All and every piece of jewellery with them. A getaway car, revving,
In the open parking on the third floor all ready and waiting.
The jewellery shop was just above us. The ear shattering
Sounds were thus inevitable.
My thoughts however went to those terrified people shopping,
In the corridors of the mall,
Who had no shelter at all.
What happened to that wonderful sunny spring morning that I woke up to, flowers blooming, tree leaves gently swaying in the breeze and majestic jacaranda trees carpeting the ground with their purple flowers.
We are mere mortals who live on a very turbulent and troubled planet, a planet called earth.
Miraculously, no one was injured, to my knowledge.
THIS IS A TRUE STORY - IT HAPPENED TO US ON THE 30TH SEPTEMBER
My first spectacles perched on my nose,
with frame and glasses, my first photo pose.
Optician cried," Wow!, Can you see clear now?"
"Oh Yes, my beautiful binocular,
I could see my world, all spectacular.
But my future still looked blurred
my weak eyes, cured of myopia
yearned to see an invisible utopia."
I grew old...
Sneaked in bifocals, and life changed gear.
Optician cried," dear, can you see your near?"
"Oh yes, my reading glass was crystal clear.
But why was my heart so full of fear?
With wide open eyes, I still couldn't see,
so many people who were close to me."
I grew older and older...
My retinal sight, now had vision of night.
Cold darkness spread in broad daylight.
Unlimited vision, I could see a closing door,
waiting for the day...I wouldn't see anymore.
Floaters crisscross blinking eyes.
After a brief scientific analysis
it is concluded that an invasion of minute
alien spacecraft has occurred.
An optician assures:
these aberrant phenomena are perfectly normal
for a non-perfect being.
Unverified estimates of an unknown illness;
projections of billions of invasive germs follow,
tank-like organisms working overtime
to smash through flesh and plasma
reigning shock-shells of dissolution
onto peace loving white knights.
It is to be hoped that microbial
barbaric and brawny hosts
of avenging bacteria will soon
assault these malignant besiegers
from the rear. Surprise attacks
from all sides
until the munching, mad
germs in their pointy Prussian war helmets are
subdued, but it’s touch and go
it can turn out either way.
The day is spent ignoring
simple explanations of ocular spots
knowing for certain only infected spacecraft
can possibly maneuver like that.
LOVE IN POST WORLD WAR 11
3rd and final episode of trilogy
My Grandfather was incredibly anglicised
Studied in London and qualified as an optician
My mother learnt English at school,
She was my Grandfather’s jewel!
He arranged a huge party for the British boys
That brought them freedom from evil convoys
Liberation, was followed almost immediately,
By a civil war, totally savage,
Which besides causing destruction
Brought a great deal of
Human death and anguish.
They killed many, my grandmother shopping
One day at the grocers watched something horrific,
A pregnant woman bayoneted, my gran fainted.
She was asked to be a witness for the
Families were well acquainted!
The day of the party arrived,
And my mom, already a beautiful girl, preened all day,
She hoped the young chap would come, she was a ray
Of sunshine, flitting to and fro seeing to her guests,
Weaving in and out of dancing couples, when she felt a tap
On her shoulder and there he was ,her handsome soldier,
Asking her for a dance,
They fell in love at a single glance.
The courtship lasted 18 months, my grandfather ecstatic
Of her choice – they got married in Greece
The country in peace, and the lovers at peace.
They traveled to Cyprus, England, Rhodesia, Zambia
And finally, South Africa.
Somewhere along the line I was born,
You see, I still have you all guessing my age,
That part of my diary has lost its page!
Would like us to buy a self- drive camper
So we can eternally roam,
It will be our second home,
Travelling is in my blood, blame
My parents, the army,
To which this I acclaim!
We are sitting at a table at the café by the station,
We are watching people passing,
We are guessing destinations.
We are waiting for our order,
Chatting mother with a daughter.
And we're talking of the old man
As he's waiting at the crossing.
We are wondering his journey
Of the route he may be taking -
A corduroy curiosity in his thin brown coat,
Plastic bags that carry string and other things of note.
Then all of a sudden, he is wandering our direction,
Charming and addressing us as “Ladies”,
Pretending he is thinking we are sisters,
Indulging him, we're happy to be listeners.
He has a sunny disposition,
Though he is saying of his vision
That his eyes are getting cloudy -
He must go see an optician.
And he's telling us his stories of his Sunday-ing allotments,
Hearing of his winning, echoes of past glories.
Cultivating prizes for the growing and the showing of his champions -
Centurion onions, parsnips gladiator,
Okra, bhut bhindi, coriander.
Then purposefully he's pulling from his pocket, from his wallet
A worn photo of a young man looking back at us.
His is sharing how they wanted for their boy they named Ishaan,
A boy, with his head in the clouds -
To be reaching for the stars and the sun.
Without pausing he is telling us scholarship was won.
Astrophysics he was studying.
Careering off to NASA, space systems engineering.
But Ishaan is soon returning
From the Californian dreaming -
Yearning to be grounded in the rhythms of the seasons.
Coming back to his roots.
Following the passing of his mother and reconnecting with his father
In the routines that are gardening.
Working quiet soils, where seeds are just beginning
As the world keeps on spinning.
To stand still awhile.
Then he is leaving, he is gone.
And in silence we are finishing our coffees and paying for our bill.
Feeling we have travelled,
Though, we were only sitting still.
I’m sorry but I chose to scribe
I’m running out of words
I really wish I figure out how to set this
To you
I was never the child you wanted
I can’t face you into the eye because of my shame
I extinguished all the family flame
I was to be the yellow rose of the family garden
But I chose my path
The desires of my heart parted with your expectations
I know it hurts to yield reeds in from maize seeds
All your efforts to customize your son blew away
To me as well it is just like a live surgery
Leaving you ways I never wished but what doesn’t kill us is good for us all
I might be leaping in the dark but I’m in the right direction
My heart follows it desires
A pilot would have been, politician or even
An optician for my knowledge is like a field I cultivate it in my own way
But my mind and heart are in the people.
I believe arts are a voice for the voiceless community
In media and arts lies the power of words
Standing up for the people, being their comforter
Motivator and activator if possible
... Thus why I chose to scribble...
...COLLEN GAGA
Form:
The other day I read a Facebook post,
where they asked this silly question again.
Find a word that starts with the letter O,
but that word must end with the letter N.
Of course, I know it’s just my opinion,
and taken from my own observation.
That it would not take much of an optician,
to see this as open ostentation.
Now I feel I have an obligation,
to sit on the octagon ottoman,
Where I often eat an Oregon onion,
while petting my baby orangutan.
His name is Owen Odin Orion,
his occupation is just an oarsman,
But he has joined an organization,
to help an orphan find his origin.
He had a small organ operation,
with an option to open an obstruction.
They had to keep him on some oxygen,
while they blasted it to oblivion.
I wonder if I have an obsession,
for words that start with O and end in N.
My opposition says it’s an omen,
I say it’s an overreaction again.
Wise man say, “No laugh up sleeve, while wear heart on same.
For misconstrued may be, lose heart's desire, passion's flame.”
Happy dentist say, when at chair, always looking down in mouth,
“If two-thirty appointment, timely arrive, open wide, north and south.”
Smart dry cleaner say, “When laundering get old, ironing fatigues.
Fresh stuff, no fluff nor fold, we take care of pressing needs.”
Keen optician see eye to eye, at visit end, focus on clear point of view
say, "You now seeing well, looking good too.”
Lactose intolerant say, “No cry over milk, inadvertently spilled.
Unless pint unpaid for and unlucky one, who lose bottle, be acutely billed.”
One unhinged psychoanalyst ask, “Jung at heart was Freud.
How it make you feel?” If on couch pay to lie, reply, “You unemployed!”
Thrifty bank manager ask, “Check in, overdraft terms discuss.
Open savings account, would you credit, spending holidays with us?”
Enlightened electrician say, "Know what's watt, watts' what, no shirk.
When in dark, put hands in air, many hands make light work.”
Savvy shipbuilder who post note, quite staunch,
he write, 'Don't come a-knocking, if boat a-rocking, we out to launch.'
Polite gynaecologist say, "Business looking up, ever more each week.
Sit on table, feet in stirrups, arms akimbo, legs a-spread, turn other cheek.”
Prudent sage say, “Patience virtue, virtuous who want to stay?
No play all work boring make, moment grasp, incentive take, seize day.”
I once dated a weatherman
At first he had a sunny outlook…
He had our future all mapped out
But he suffered periods of deep depression so our relationship got rained off
I once dated an optician
He said he could see our future was together
But soon I stopped wearing rose tinted glasses ...
He was always smashed and making a spectacle of himself
I once dated a librarian
He claimed he was an open book
But I couldn’t cope with the periods of intense silence
So the writing was on the wall and I threw the book at him
I once dated a farmer
He ploughed straight into our relationship
But I discovered he was a muck spreader
And when he started playing the field I ditched him
I once dated a baker
He was very upper crust and well bred
But he couldn’t get his dough to rise
So I toasted his future and said goodbye
I once dated a hairdresser
He was very trim and didn’t have a hair out of place
But he was always making cutting comments
So I cut the relationship short
I once dated a doctor
He had a wonderful bedside manner and he made my temperature rise
But he became very cold and started injecting poison
I lost my ‘patient’s’ and got sick of him so I gave him the cold shoulder
I once dated a barman
He wore very attractive glasses
But he was always on the pull
So I gave him sort measures and 'called time' on our relationship
I once dated a retired policeman
He was an arresting sight
But when he took down his particulars
His truncheon was all floppy – so I bailed out
N/A in Just make me laugh Contest judged on 08/30/16
Submitted to take the dagger from my heart please contest
Sponsored by Broken Wings
27th August 2016
We started up this charity when
We heard of the hedgehogs plight
There’s twenty thousand creatures
That get flattened every night
They run across the tarmac
As they head off to the wood
They never see the cars because
Their eyesight’s none too good
For hedgehogs are not clever
On the highway they can’t hack it
So we’d like to fit each one of them
With a bright fluorescent jacket
And then as we sort their clothing
And we’re measuring their chest
We can get our own optician
To perform an eyesight test
We’ll fit them all with spectacles
Glued on, so they don’t lose ‘em
And likewise with the jackets
They’ll have no choice but use ‘em
So please donate some money to
This worthwhile undertaking
It won’t be long, you’ll surely see
The difference we are making
Form: