Long Technician Poems
Long Technician Poems. Below are the most popular long Technician by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Technician poems by poem length and keyword.
Squirrel was excited. Today is the day! My Google fiber will be here!
We have to charge you extra, the technician man said, to be perfectly clear.
I do not care, squirrel rapidly said with glee, bring Google Fiber up to me!
This is my first time, admitted the cable guy as he climbed the solid oak tree.
Cable was finally in, internet worked like a dream, payment could commence.
See that field to the right? Squirrel said. Giant walnuts are next to that fence.
But we do not take walnuts, the technician said, we only take cash money.
So squirrel got crow involved, for he had given lots of shiny coins to his honey.
He comes out to the orchestral suite of William Walton's Henry V
Refuses to shake hands with Jimmy
Sits unemotional on the plush armchair
I'm the technician running the cameras
Standing with a clipboard and head-set
Rousing the studio audience
Before agreeing to go on the show
He'd signed an understanding that said
He'd refuse to play Lip Sync Battle
He welcomed the make-up, but was
Seemingly agitated with the microphone
Up through the ruff
He sips the concoction that he first
Examined with suspicion and continues
To wear the provided sunglasses
That were deemed a solution to the bright lights
But also the dark glasses contain the secrets in his eyes
The ones he cannot disguise
After his disaster of an interview
I hand him this poem and after reading it
He suddenly shows an interest in playing Slapjack
Courtesy of one or more tradesmen,
first Monday in September set aside
for employees able, eager, ready
and willing to acquire money
to marry groom or bride
climb the corporate ladder or
become an artisan, entrepreneur, technician
to side step getting rung, drafted
like an oxen plow, commandeered and chide
by management as insubordinate
till retirement or join kiln fields
once the music died
from plane over exertion, yet nonetheless
sweat of brow efforts praised I espied
searching me noggin brief history re:
aforesaid day, where barbecues fried
dispersed aromas recognizing efforts
of workers with quality control as guide
grievances against danger challenged
sense and sensibility stalwart did not hide
the shenanigans that took place inside
sense and sensibility
without prejudice nor pride
boardrooms in tandem with glories of
American made products from those
who put figurative nose to grindstone –
just common everyday Jane's and Joe’s
who weathered extreme temperatures,
whereby bodies froze
but thanks to those who battled elements
at large and snatched doze
birth of brute efforts eventually
earned reserved renowned
borne couple shy of
nineteenth century, whence sound
of industrial silence replaced with
parades where hoof beats did pound
burgeoning and bustling city streets
echoed along hardened ground
fealty to country soldered
with faith, federation union freedom
and job security did thence abound,
which holiday underwent
transformations as bustle
and hustle proved myth regarding
land of milk and honey –
from straining of muscle
whereby life, liberty and pursuit
of happiness less of physical tussle
set (thank you Masons and Dixons)
cornerstone to an invisible
complex edifice originally from New York
forgotten builders, farmers, machinists,
et cetera who laid groundwork
wrought by destruction
from Civil War largesse and pork
loosed from the bottle in
Antebellum South, when off flew cork
freeing a genie, which became rendered
supremely courtly poet, i.e. this former dork.
I wrote two terrible poems last night.
Will this one be another?
I am looking at the clock.
It is time to leave and get the oil changed.
I read the sign as I pull in.
No Shirt, No Shoes, No Mask, No Service.
I don my mask before entering.
I greet the girl behind the counter.
Do I need an appointment?
I do not know all the rules.
She replies, walk-ins welcomed.
Politely takes my keys.
Just an oil change JC, I nod.
She knows me by name.
Not because of my Poetry.
It is just that I have been here before.
The service starts promptly.
Three now toil on my vehicle.
It used just to be one.
I am the lone customer in the reception area.
Tv still playing the same station.
No more free coffee.
My soul smiles, anyway.
I guess I should have expected it.
I start to listen to Janine Jansen, Vivaldi.
My earbuds are a no-name brand.
I wish I had my Audiophile headset.
But that would be rude.
The technician approaches me.
I was expecting this.
It is not a cabin filter this time.
That would only cost me an extra twenty bucks.
He explains I need my transmission fluid changed.
That is another One Hundred and Eighty bucks.
Shows me the samples he took.
I agree, and he says it will take a little while longer.
As I sit here listening to music.
My keys arrive twenty minutes later.
Drat, I still need a little more hope.
I was looking for one more concerto.
Time to pay as panic sets.
Did I forget my wallet?
No, it is here in my back pocket.
A wave of relief washes over me.
I am slowly returning to normalcy.
On the way home, I am thinking, Metallica.
1st place
BRIAN'S CHOICE 10,any form,any theme
Contest Judged: 5/30/2020 4:05:00 AM
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
I couldn’t keep on putting off
An update to my phone;
With apps no longer working,
I was in a retro zone.
But when I tried to update
I was rapidly deterred,
For the message I kept getting was
“An error has occurred.”
So I made a quick appointment
At the nearest Apple store –
Walking distance, early morning,
Not a real unpleasant chore.
Though they didn’t see my name
(Despite my confirmation text),
Since the store was very empty,
I became a happy “Next!”
The technician was delightful –
She compared me to her gran,
Who, like me, of any changes
To her phone was not a fan.
Up to this point I was smiling
‘Til the update was complete,
Then things fell apart and suddenly
I had to face defeat.
For my cellular went haywire
And my phone could only work
Within distance of a WiFi,
Not a universal perk.
Which is when they sent in Edward,
Who was helpful, patient, kind
And prevented me from losing
What’s remaining of my mind.
Still, of course, I had to upgrade,
Purchasing a brand-new phone
Which, to me, is overwhelming
(Though I’m sure I’m not alone).
I won’t bore you with the details,
But I left the store at last,
As I struggle with the future,
Me – a creature of the past.
I hate when my cable’s out of order.
It seems I call them again and again.
If it’s not one thing then it’s another.
And all of it is surely a big pain.
Sometimes I’ll be forever on the phone
just waiting for a person to get through to.
It’s worse when the technician that I get
is someone seeming to live in Timbuku.
It never fails that they cannot help me.
Then they schedule me for a repair date,
which is any time between 12 and 5.
I stay home all afternoon just to wait.
Even worse is when my Roku box
is on the fritz, for there’s no help for me
when that goes out! For that, I’m on my own.
It’s not part of my cable’s warranty.
But these are such small problems when I think
of all the bad things in the world today.
I need to fix my mind on what is good:
at least TV’s in color now -not black, white and grey.
The Mill wheel wouldn't turn until Spring
Money was needed for refurbishing
Built in nineteen hundred and seventeen
It was advised they replace everything
A treasured part of local history
Host to all the town's social memories
The wheel itself was pieced in artistry
Workers heard tales of hidden treasury
Whispers ran through the town from door to door
The Mill required complete overhaul and more
The expenses were beginning to soar
They scoffed at hidden treasure folklore
A deep freeze stopped all construction for weeks
Influx of needed money appeared bleak
The refurbished wheel was installed - now leaks
Ice melts, revealing secrets - wheel creaks
A puzzled technician on wheel repair
Opens up a toolbox, gasps, stops to stare
The bricks of gold have answered their prayers
The Mill has been replicated with care!
I went to the Heart Center today for my annual echocardiogram
scheduled for 2 pm. Not my favorite place to go, but necessary.
So I take it all in stride because it's important. After all, the heart
is the super most important part of us to keep healthy!
I arrive fifteen minutes early as requested
get comfortable in the waiting room
see lots of elderly people waiting for tests
remember that I just turned eighty
I remind myself that I am not old
they call my name after twenty minutes
more paperwork to fill out
same insurance, same meds, same everything
nothing has changed in a year
I follow the orders and do it
more waiting- check my cell phone
at 3 pm they call me in to the test room
the technician presents me with cute clothing
a bolero-type paper jacket- with instructions
put it on and keep it open in the front
more waiting for her to come back
she returns and tells me to lay on the table
warns me that the gel is very warm
applies it all over my chest and it feels good
she tells me to turn on my left side
her instrument starts searching for my heart
minutes go by and she turns on the sound
thump thump, swish swish, thump thump
swish swish, thump thump- I feel alive
surprised how much noise the heart makes
the sound is quite eerie but comforting
next step, I need to lay flat
more searching with her instrument
I look at the monitor- pictures of my heart
it is 3:40 pm and she is all done
she hands me wads of paper towels
I wipe off the gel and then get dressed
still sticky everywhere
all done now and out the door I go
will return in two weeks for the results
pray my old ticker performed well
hope there's nothing to worry about-
that my leaky valve did not get worse
thank heavens for modern medicine!
August 5, 2019
~2nd Place~
Contest: Writing Challenge 3, July 2019 - List
Sponsor: Dear Heart
Judged: 08/07/2019
allow God to reprogram the CPU
of your life
remove the spam, the cookies
the internal strife
the Lord is my technician
my help desk
my warranty
the antivirus safeguarding my life
from the enemy
God adjusted my input so my spiritual data will flow
God removed that sinful behavior
which made my unit run slow
the Lord is my technician
my help desk
my warranty
the antivirus safeguarding my life
from the enemy
with clarity, sincerity and purity
on my flash drive
Inputting data with the Holy Spirit,
I flourish and thrive
computing and sharing with the Holy Trinity
interfacing with God, Jesus and the Spirit Holy
no longer relying on external downloads
to determine my destiny
letting Heaven-sent applications
recalibrate my victories
the Lord is my technician
my help desk
my warranty
the antivirus safeguarding my life
from the enemy
now logged into the storehouse
of my Heavenly Host
my RAM fully supplied
giving me the most
the Lord is my technician
my help desk
my warranty
the antivirus safeguarding my life
from the enemy
my input now adjusted
my data easily flows
sinful malware removed
my unit no longer running slow
my modem operating
at full capacity
my faith in God running
at full velocity
the Lord is my technician
my help desk
my warranty
the antivirus safeguarding my life
from the enemy
love, peace and joy
In me unbound
God's grace and mercy
stored in my cloud
the Lord is my technician
my help desk
my warranty
the antivirus safeguarding my life
from the enemy
“Over 320,000 children under five now stand on the brink of collapse—
grasping for food that no longer arrives.
Schools lie silent—97% damaged, their futures paved in rubble.
In May alone, over 5,100 children were treated for acute malnutrition.
Over 18,000 children have died; another 45,000 wounded—some missing limbs, some missing home.
Every day, more children lie lost in famine, displaced, or gasping for breath”.
Last week I met a home security technician,
He said his name was Hamad, I heard it wrong as Hamas,
Although he works hard and lives in USA,
He was proud to say he was a Palestinian, from Jerusalem in Israel.
Palestine was the ancient land of God,
Adam and Eve lived and tasted the apple which grew there,
It was a land of peace and wisdom,
Till politics destroyed and divided the nation of Palestine.
Hamad contributes whatever money he can save,
To feed the hungry children of Gaza,
He can not eat Kababs and Shawarmas,
When he sees hungry children and parents looking desperately for food.
In the ruins of dawn, where laughter once played,
Children rise—not to school, but to haunting haze.
Tiny hands reach for nothing but dust,
Their dreams broken, swallowed by hunger and rust.
Once, they sang under the olive tree—
bodies light with song, hearts unburdened.
Now the branches stand silent, leaning over empty schools and broken tents.
They wait for olive-picking futures, now harvested by time’s neglect.
Even as famine steals their breath,
their spirits bloom under rubble-laden skies.
Their absence echoes louder than their presence—
every empty swing, every closed school door, every lull in song.
We must not turn away. At least donate some money for the starving kids.
Donate at wck.org or your favorite charity.
Let this poem be more than words—a call to witness, to humanize, and to act.