Long Tech Poems
Long Tech Poems. Below are the most popular long Tech by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Tech poems by poem length and keyword.
Count First
So you're too cool to finish up high school.
consider that no one will hire a fool.
Count first.
You might be fine with selling fries and burgers.
Take some classes, sell some bigger orders.
Count first.
Before you cut along the penciled line,
Get out your ruler, measure one more time--
Count first.
Before you cook your specialty times three
Make an ingredients inventory.
Count first.
You won't impress that pretty girl so fine
If you can't pay the bill for wine and dine.
Count first.
Before you finally pop the question,
Give her an honest evaluation.
Count first.
If you want a newly-wed apartment,
Think smaller--there is a big down payment.
Count first.
You covet a car with high performance.
Can you even afford car insurance?
Count first
Before buying a new high-tech gadget,
Is there enough in the household budget?
Count first.
When maneuvers are in the planning stage,
Before you commit to a shell barrage.
Count first.
Before overdoing your Santa Clause,
Can you pay the rent? Read the fine print clause..
Count first.
Before you walk up to the Pearly Gates,
What's on your conscience--ask before too late.
Count first.
Mark Halliday 17 May 2014
Dixdeux O
Silicon city
That pulsates,
Both day and night,
The Tech Capital
And the sky, veiled
With urban haze
And dense, sprawling cityscape.
Grey city of its
Gridlocked roads
Surrounded by
Towering skyscrapers
Inspiring
The coder
And the entrepreneur.
Glass city
Of its
Modern offices
And its apartments
Compact and sleek,
New and bold,
A striking, sure testament
Of the presence
Of the FUTURE.
Neon and chrome city
To reinvent
The bustling rhythm
Of its progress
And yet retains
Echoes of the past.
City of early mornings
When the techie
Leaves his flat
And in the busy metro
Taps his laptop
The commuter,
Eyes on screens,
In air-conditioned cars,
Mimics and rushes
To connect
With the world
That fuels their DREAMS
As a true Bengalurean.
City of endless startups
That illuminates the path
Of the innovator
And the visionary
Who disrupts
Tradition,
Complacency,
And long
Established norms.
Green-grey city
A mixture and contrast
That modernises,
Reshapes the landscape
Of time accelerating
That unleashes
And propels,
Surges swiftly
Unstoppable
And holds in
The tech parks,
By the malls
And facing the
Global IT hub
These dreamers
With cutting-edge ideas
Sitting at the edge
Of this vast
Transforming metropolis,
Creating
The digital future
That captivates and challenges.
City of diversity
Of heaped-up talents
With global backgrounds
Who meet online,
Collaborate,
Innovate,
Connect, Expand.
Disrupt,
Complement,
Enrich,
Express themselves,
Coming just
From every corner
Of India and the world
To the heart
Of Bengaluru
And the epicentre
Of South India's
Tech revolution.
And nostalgic old-timers?
The ambitious Newcomers?
All together
They coexist
And merge
Their traditions and
Their aspirations
In progress
And innovation
But New Bengaluru
Carves out for itself, indeed,
The future's share.
A dynamic and complex present
Whose energy
Excites and overwhelms
Leaving digital footprints
In cyberspace
And experiences
Virtual,
And actual,
Fast-paced
And relentless.
I’ve heard people say it online,
“Stop living in the past,
don’t you know it’s the current year,
you’ve got to catch up fast.”
Most often said by Marxist types,
which just seems strange to me,
since they follow ideas now aged
nearly two centuries.
And while they try to dress it up
in all sorts of new coats,
it’s still a ruthless, old idea
that slaughtered countless folk.
On top of that the arrogance
That goes with such a phrase…
just strikes me as ridiculous,
in a hubristic way.
“Stop living in the past,”they cry,
but I will plainly tell
that all humans live in ‘the past,’
and can live nowhere else!
First off, there is the obvious,
the brain’s reaction speed,
that millionth of a second when
it translates what eyes see,
So that that world around you now
is not the present, no,
what you see happened a millionth
of a second ago.
That means that all you see and sense
is very recent past,
present gone before detected,
it all happens that fast.
Does present even exist though?
It you look at it close,
all units of time get smaller,
no end to that, you know.
By the time you can even think,
the moment is long gone,
so all cognitions is past-tense,
you can’t say that I’m wrong.
Lift it up to a larger scale,
knowledge is history,
since any subject we’ve learned on
happened previously.
Any tech that you’ve ever used
had to be made, produced,
any knowledge that’s written down
someone already knew.
All these things happened in the past,
it contains everything,
without these ideas we can’t live,
no past, no existing.
The past contains all that we’ve learned,
what works and what does now,
when someone laughs at it I know
their brain is full of rot,
since every argument we have,
the damn language itself,
all are structured on the past,
and it is there we dwell.
All the ideas that have shaped us,
the stories we enjoy,
the clothes you wear, that damn cell phone,
jobs in which we’re employed,
the human nature we’ve evolved,
stubborn and unchanging,
means no one can escape ‘the past,’
it’s endless cycling…
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
A GOLDEN AGE
It was the early Sixties when music changed
Rock Around The Clock had paved the way
But many previous styles had seen their day
As modern songs were differently arranged
The Mersey Sound burst out upon the scene
The Beatles in particular, led that revolution
Then almost very year adding a new solution
Along with many others, all young and keen
Of course there was always the U.S influence
And Motown lasted longer than was expected
Loyalty to the favourite radio station selected
But soon, instrumental tracks made less sense
Electric guitars earned their permanent place
But distortion spawned so many a new effect
And much studio tech that helped to correct
But the Pop TV shows filled a popular space
Much music of that era did sound simplistic
But with classic songs and arrangements too
Yet committed to embracing what was new
Despite some Hippy overtones of the mystic
But that memorable decade drew to a close
Whilst colour replaced old black and white
A beat generation was mostly treated right
It shall return and be welcomed, as it goes
Amid the chaos of the world outside
The young boy's heart beat with a restless tide
Aspiring for greatness beyond the norm
But his path to purpose was often forlorn
He tried his hand at many things
Exploring the world on wings
From science to commerce, to tech and more
He sought a calling unlike any before
Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to years
As he searched for his purpose among his peers
But the light he chased remained just out of sight
All he saw was a tunnel, deep and infinite
At twenty-five he stopped to reflect
And take stock of his past, with introspect
He saw the muddled mess of his prior ventures
And started to ponder and rearrange his textures
He knew not what lay ahead
But he knew what lay behind instead
And so he made a conscious choice
To live with intent and a clear sense of voice
One step at a time, he began to walk
Towards the shadows and the light they begot
Mistakes were made and lessons were learned
And slowly but surely, the embers burned
Fuelled by his newfound intent
The light that once escaped him started to relent
And out of the abyss, a vision took shape
That of a man who could bend fate
Through the veil of uncertainty
The boy saw his purpose finally
And with that vision in his eyes
He tackled obstacles and soared through the skies
At thirty years, he'd come so far
To find his calling, his North Star
With every stride and every leap
His impact on the world began to seep
Now, he looks to the skies with hope
Wielding his vision as an unbreakable rope
For this boy, once lost, is now found
His purpose concrete, his destiny sound
And though his journey still has miles to go
He strides with determination, full of glow
For he's seen the world through a different lens
And knows his vision will take him to the ends.
Markets smile, deep pockets make fat pile,
And when frown, fortunes come tumbling down.
In play of plump coffers
There’s no place for paupers—
Sophomore Dumpty’s tend to crash crown,
They prosper that possess wile and guile.
_________________________________________
Happenings |24.12.2022| Humour, Sestet
Poet’s note: It was as if only yesterday Elon Musk was crowned the king of fortunes at top of the pile. Today, his net worth has dropped by $ 135 billion. The rest of the tech tsars also watch their net worth getting depleted. India’s Gautam Adani at $110 billion has risen to third place. From almost nowhere in sight now appears Louis Vaitton to claim first place at $ 159 billion. The sestet is set in anapaest meter, and a mirror-like rhyme scheme. What we have here is just a Sestet, not a Sestina.
southern, technical wrestling style
a tech and grapple style. a
Spinebuster and DDT
as signature moves and
and a tough, tough demeanor
Becoming a world champion means
achieving the highest possible honor
in a sport or discipline, requiring
extraordinary dedication, talent,
and mental fortitude to be the best
in the world. It signifies being a globally
recognized winner of an elite
international competition, and for
many, it represents the culmination
of a lifelong pursuit of excellence
and a profound sense of achievement.
widespread respect and admiration felt
for someone or something on the basis
of a perception of their achievements or quality
From Ladakh’s icy edge to Kanyakumari’s golden beach,
India's soul isn’t just a place, it's within reach.
Not just maps or borders, but legends, alive and loud,
A rhythm, a beat, of which every culture is proud.
Tricolour waves —
Mountains, rivers, cities, dreams,
Saffron courage, white truth that beams,
Green hope — grow, spread, in every shadow and light.
From Kashmir’s chill to Kerala’s warmth,
In every whisper, every storm,
Unity sings through desert sands and sea spray,
In the pulse of our hearts, it finds its way!
Punjab’s fields stretch wide,
Where harvests and history collide.
Haryana’s plains, Delhi’s streets —
The past and progress, where they meet.
Uttar Pradesh’s holy rivers flow,
Bihar’s stories, ancient and slow,
Jharkhand’s forests, Bengal’s breeze,
Quiet strength flows with ease.
Assam’s tea, Nagaland’s pride,
Meghalaya’s rain, where spirits reside,
Sikkim’s heights, Arunachal’s streams,
Every corner, a new dream.
Gujarat’s growth, Maharashtra’s lights,
Bangalore’s tech, Goa’s nights,
Karnataka’s coffee, Tamil Nadu’s grace,
Every region leaves a mark, a trace.
Union Territories, hear their call,
Ladakh’s calm, Andaman’s thrill,
Puducherry’s French twist, Tamil blend,
Every wave whispers, every corner bends.
Daman and Diu’s coast,
Dadra and Nagar Haveli’s quiet post,
Lakshadweep’s blue, a piece of the sky,
Andaman’s echoes, where history won’t die.
India! Not just a name—
It’s a stand, a song, a flame!
In mountains, plains, and oceans deep,
This dream, this hope, we always keep!
From Rajasthan’s forts to Gujarat’s sands,
From West Bengal’s sunrise to coastal lands,
Every state, every heart, every land —
We rise together, hand in hand!
India! Not just a nation —
A sensation, a creation, a vibration!
In every soul and every beat,
India’s legacy can’t be beaten!
Our past, our present, a bright path,
A future built with endless might.
In this journey, vast and grand,
India thrives, together we stand!
India! Not just a place —
But grace, courage, an eternal embrace!
From every corner, through every tide,
Our unity will never subside!
India stands,
India roars,
A legacy that forever soars!
Fear lost the human race
each and all in their place
no one moves do we breathe
no one looks no one sees
Standing in perfect circles alone
hear the beeping of a phone
it 's the heart of a single mass
shatter wills like fallen glass
Darkness cloaks every space
never see another face
a single tube in your vein
no one ever had a name
Smell of death survives
corpses kept alive
no one can speak or even hear
becoming faceless through the years
In side a cylinder of black glass
living life as time pass
the tube takes your energy
to the new tech god it feeds
Technology saw no use
humans were a bad excuse
machines need living batteries
artificial intelligence deem human's for that need
Deadly virus made fearful humans vaccinate
becoming energy with no escape
once a year the god like golden sun
radiates his shine upon everyone
Billions of souls slowly begin a glow
the darkness flees into shadows
just human sticks numb the brain
mortal essence being drain
Bodies begin to softly glow
lighting up row by row
their hearts red bleed again
tasting the light bright the dim
A single volt from a whole mass
volts of energy they blast
feeding the new god like sun
the machines forever run
One by one their light is gone
the darkness smothers all in calm
the beeping sound softly grows
all blanketed black as darkness flows.
I’m watching the icicles dripping,
Reminded of ten years ago,
When I held up my grandson to watch them,
All the things then that I couldn’t know.
How he’d soak up so much he was learning
And prove to be clever and smart;
How his joy in our moments together
Would tattoo him right onto my heart.
How he’d love to hear all kinds of music
And would shine when he played the trombone;
How his passion for reading and language,
Which we’d shared, he’d continue alone.
How some interests would serve to sustain him -
New cuisines, tech advances and school,
While some others would fall by the wayside -
Making maps, which were detailed and cool.
There will be so much more in the future
That his mind will grab onto and hold,
But when we watched the icicles dripping,
So much living had yet to unfold.