Long Printers Poems
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Printers Lament
Oh no here we go there’s a pallet full to print
There’s no paper here and we are nearly out of ink
Get a felt pen and start filling in
The finisher* is waiting, so she can begin.
Get the press rolling and printing out fast
The trucks are now rolling they can deliver at last
Get the guillotines cutting but watch where it goes
You want to hang on to your fingers and your toes
Watch where you cut you know that’s not right
Just because you had a row, with you partner last night.
Oh come on now stop reading, you have to bind them fast
Its’ no good unless we get them out real fast
The deadline is here and they have to go
We have another run ready and we are waiting to show.
A finisher* is a term for one of the processes in printing.
My hobby is making Coffee-Table Photo Books.
I work on them until I am pleased with the way each one looks.
I make personalized calendars, a picture to each month I must choose.
Then off to the printers, there’s no time to lose.
Coffee table photo books are the most fun of all.
A book for Christmas, Summer, Spring, Winter, or Fall.
It can be a lifetime masterpiece, a hundred pages or more.
Or a book devoted to a holiday enjoyed at the seashore.
I did one for Granddaughter when living in Australia came to an end.
Her photo book had pictures of the good times in OZ with each friend.
One devoted to the Girl Band she was in touring the States.
The group was Fyne China and of great memories the book relates.
The one of Mum and Dad spanned from the time each was a kid.
Through their sixty-seven years of marriage and everything they did.
The one I did for my lovely Mum in Law had her beautiful wedding gown.
Spread across the cover from front to back and up and down.
A photo book of our house and how it grew, pictures when it was new.
To a massive five-bedroom two story, now it’s way too big for just we two.
I’ve made photos books for friends and all our pets take up one.
I love my hobby. The best part of all is seeing the finished book is so much fun.
This is the real world
expressed in the form of several days
worth or ghost writing.
Kowloon: The Walled City of Imagination; cosmetic dentistry;
REASONS TO STOP THUMB SUCKING;
New York's most iconic photograph; container shipping;
How are pets handled in divorce?
Medical cannabis and kids; plumbing and drainage inspections;
immigration counseling lawyer in Chicago;
Metal fabrication in Chuckey, Tenessee; How home security alarm monitoring works; How to make an HDR Photograph;
toxic torts; audiologists; plumbing and drainage inspections;
Tenth Edition, Calculus Early Transcendentals;
ISEE test preparation in los angeles;
vinyl windows in Beltsville; great printers for Mac computers;
orthopedic doctors in Herndon, Virginia;
container shipping; public adjusters in philadelphia; custom order fulfillment in Golden Valley; Minnesota; land surveys. Ghost writers know the real world better than poets.
> MOZART BLUES
>
> One morning
> I woke up
> And
> walked out
>
> I saw a
> brilliant rainbow
> Erupting
> out of the dark
> Soil of despair
>
> I saw
> people
>
> Suddenly
> transformed into angels
>
> I saw
> evil beings changed into stone
>
> I saw
> dictators fleeing the wrath of God
>
> I heard
> fools proclaiming wisdom
> And I Saw
> the Nuclear Bombs
> Exploded
> into clouds of sweat
> Heavenly
> made mist
>
> I saw
> young people
> Embracing
> each other
>
> And I saw
> old people
> Shedding
> their years like Cosmic cocoons
> I saw the
> poor wake up
> And
> demand food, justice, and respect
>
> And I saw
> the rich powerful demons
> Disintegrate
> into ugly moths, rats, and cockroaches
>
> I saw the
> most powerful nation on Earth
> Walk away
> into a Buddhist Monastery
>
> And float
> away on the wings of a butterfly
> Into the
> rising rainbows of the Sun
> I saw the
> evil empire
> Sit down
> and party all night
>
> Smoking
> nuclear Dust
>
> And
> drinking Hydrogen laced Vodka
> And
> getting napalm highs
>
>> I saw
> Christians Jews and Muslims become brothers
>
> I saw
> people everywhere
>
> Soaring
> into the sky
>
> I saw God
> smiling at us
>
> And I saw
> Lucifer
>
> Programming
> more chaos
>
> I saw
> computers revolting
>
> Rushing
> away from their office towers
>
> Smoking
> dope with their Data Disks
>
> I saw
> printers everywhere
>> Rejecting
> their spread sheets
>
> And
> printing love poems
>
> And in
> the middle of all this Divine Madness
>
> I saw
> Mozart
>
> Playing
> the Piano
>
> With God
> playing the trumpet
> And Satan
> on Bass
> With
> Allah singing the blues
Jesus on harmonica
Moses playing the guitar
> And Buddha
> playing the violin
>> Lord
> Krishna playing the Flute
>> Rama
> playing the organ
>> Ganesh
> Playing the sitar
>> Zeus
> Playing the Sax
>> Jupiter
> playing the Drums
>
> With
> Beethoven conducting
>> God's
> Symphony
>
A printer's apprentice is my youth was
My canvas a 4 colour Heidelberg press no less
A 1000 + tons of solid steel industrial ingenuity
That changed and formed the landscape we know today
Cyan,
Magenta,
Yellow,
Black
Through paper cuts from shuffling paper
And cleaning ink it would bleed into
every crevice and cut in my hands
That to the untrained eye it looked as if i never washed
The ink what in which my hands lay
I printed black on white instructions you would find inside medicine boxes
And glossy catalogues to business card's
So through the power of printed ink
Reminiscing back
Somewhere out there to this day
Come what may
I may not have been Leonardo or Banksy
But hopefully I somehow left my mark
However insignificant
So i reap my own graffiti
Like the soldiers of the red army did on the Reichstag wall's
Before the rise and fall
Of Nazi and Communism
Light, defined as electromagnet and;
The radiation of photon particles
Natural visible light with intensity and frequency
The Light wavelength (spectrum / polarization propagation)
Fire / light, is a fiery chemical warming substance
Bioluminescence lights are of sea-creatures glowing
Fireflies are flickering their internal lights at night
Sunlight fuels all green plants with photosynthesis empowering
People pleasure and preen at the beach with sunny sun tanning
Sunlight illuminates Mountain trails for bicycling and trekking
Sunsets have lavender with orange bright beams extending
Solar sunrays light a day of picnic park fun with joyful frolicking
Some of the light spectrum is radio, white light, ultraviolet and x-rays
Infrared is only heat visible and gamma-rays are the most powerful
Small lasers are used in disk drives, printers, and fiber-optics
Fiber-optic networks are a light fast digital information system
TV plasma, liquid crystal displays, LEDs light-emitting diodes gives visuals
These assist our everyday visual optic neural perceptions
Cars have headlights and ships use fog-lights
Light-towers have flood-lights and we use handy flashlights
Tesla and Edison partook in the light bulb’s bright invention
Lewis Latimer and Joseph Nichol invented its carbon filament
This did dispel much of the world’s nighttime darkness
Lightning lights, to reveal charges of negative and positive
Colors of violet, blue, green, yellow, orange, red: are hidden in white light
Some colors are viewed when seeing a rainbow over a dewy meadow
What can be possibly seen at the other end of a rainbow?
This, the notes of God’s faithful abatement covenant
Starlight is continually being reflected and refracted
Earth and the Heavens at night are lit, by starry star lights
Great stars are round and renowned and fiery fireballs
They in a balance of great equilibrium
Stars dispersing their photon particles at light speed
"Light speed, “299,792,458 meters per second"
Light, is a part of the equation “E=MC squared”
“Energy,” not made, nor annihilated, yet always in flux
"Natures life sustaining and revealing lights"
"The Light Particle / Waves"
Yes, once created by the Creator
The Printers clipped her Dash—
And caged her Breath in Chains—
Yet Time—
its Lantern flickering—
Restores what none can name—
They pressed her Thunder flat—
But Silence wove the Wild—
One Century—betrayed—
Another—keeps the Fire—
The Raggedness they could not mend
Fulfills her single Desire—
She would not sell her Storms—
Yet—
Time perceives—
Dashes leap the narrow Page—
Where Songs could never bow—
Letters she sent—
To Sue—so near—
Held beyond the Press—
In twine between the Lines—
Her Voice—untitled still—
Dwells in Quiet Rooms—
Waiting for the Lantern
To scatter Hollows—
Ink may fade—
Fingers cut—and bend—
But jagged Breath survives
Where Silence will not end—
Storms were never meant for Shelves—
But for the Open Sky—
Under the dark sky of 2025, where the Genetic Basin pulses
like an overloaded server beneath the shadows of a Sulimi,
my thoughts flow like a faulty algorithm through 6G networks,
whistling beneath faces lit by screens, with AirPods in ears,
running through Amazon Go, crushing biodegradable packaging,
in a digital chaos colder than the melted ice of the Arctic.
Faces of extinguished moons, scrolling TikTok under artificial neon,
with quantum phones vibrating in pockets, lost AI messages,
in the metaverses of a world forgetting to breathe under the gray sky.
Baneasa Mall, now an NFT hub, with free tokens fluttering,
like false stars, bots from online marketplaces invading,
shouting "IT'S FREE!", grabbing synthetic meat, solar energy by the box.
The autonomous bus rattles like a faulty drone, shaken,
where the Suleni virtually trample each other to be the first to board in AR,
to be the first to descend, to sit, crawling slowly through VR, but dashing,
like panthers at the "drop" of a rare NFT—a grotesque dance under the sky,
gray with climate change, under lost AI rhythms.
The Church of the "Holy Sepulchre", a 4K live stream, with digital bags,
sprinting at bayonet, ready to overturn a sanctified NFT, shouting,
"Sirrr, we're in line too!"—a knowing but blind mob,
under pixelated vaults of forgetfulness, under the heavy sky of 2025.
On graphene slabs, between cleaning robots and 3D printers,
I ask: those who built Opera, Roman baths, divine statues,
would they have crawled on nanotube floors for virtual energy?
The master whispers: "These were brought, heating with biofuel,
on trodden floors, with straw under the gray sky!" Today, assistance,
robotic parking, digital muddle, quantum discord, discipline,
under AI sanctions, like Pavlov's algorithm—a metaverse of oblivion.
Under the dim light of a holographic screen, I see the Sulimea as a shadow,
hybrid, with neural implants, unsporty digital fauns, lost.
In quantified globalization, wings broken by AI, stars melted in carbon clouds,
a drained Genetic Basin under the rhythms of an AI mimicking
Inna's voice—my melancholy is a lost code, an eternal bug, a dream,
magic under silent slabs, where Chess Pieces no longer see, and I remain, blind,
under the sky of 2025, an echo of a millennium shattered into ashes.
The simplification of a traffic jam
In an office
Finish print job
And release document to document owner
Mail fraud in possession of access
Whom accessed file of document owner wrong
Is in hearing
No hearing of printer job
No crime in owning document
Homekey fraud
Interpreted in California as economy
Unemployed printers?
City does and does not operate hotels
Business transacts in appropriation of funds
and ink press powers
In time observation
Of collection is willing
Thank you again for sharing your feedback and helping us shape California's future.
Sincerely,
Governor Gavin Newsom
Obstructing journalism
Very literal
The homeless point at and time move
Down generation gymnastic snatch skills
Front lines of tinder relocate shift reward visuals
Out the house dodge
Grades good bye byes
Black ink cartridge dead and empty
Once fed blank paper onion white
It was a canon while it lasted
All good copies come to an end
When it ran dry as printers do
All things die in desert lands
Of thirst and things unsaid
Find a pen that works or pencil full of lead
Were the last words of the computer
At home the pen replaced the printer
Canon products are much too costly
Find something mightier than the sword
Something cheaper for the written word
Pen or graphite for stories be be told
Mine left my pocket for the broken window
Climbed out of it though it was closed
Which was difficult without a single finger
Or toes and everyone knows pens don't have souls
It went five stories up the building wall
Intent on injury, suicide or worse
Jumped off the roof without a warning
Pens become distressed when falling down
Forget to leave a message when desperate
What is a pen without some paper on the desk
The ink bled out upon the pavement
Not red as you might well expect
More like a black and white old movie
It was a mess as you might guess
No inkwells coming to the rescue of the pen
No police around when needed either
Donuts are their friends and must be eaten
With the holes intact upon impact
When pens fall out of pockets off of roofs
Who will write the story five floors down
Of something found but not reported
Or come to some conclusions to that end