Long Time machine Poems
Long Time machine Poems. Below are the most popular long Time machine by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Time machine poems by poem length and keyword.
Hour hands clock back sixty minutes of Autumn
Round about this same of month every year, what a bum
er, and inconvenient truth diverged from this chum
purposelessly manipulating a hold over
sans yesteryear doth drum
a sensation of jet lag (with earth in the balance)
as if flying within time machine at warp speed from
this station, where bumpy ride invariably finds me
feeling a bit ticked off and glum
and in no mood to rhyme, nor be leer re: cull
juiced barely tantamount to gather scattered wits
sin tide, and express mood as hoe hum
fortunate, this chronological seismic shift nada wide, ah assume
nonetheless, mein kempf cerebral hemispheric plate tectonics
comb pluck hated off jangling black keys helplessly boom
fancifully drifting and booring into quick ribald sand trap doom
ming an inducement for emergency convoy, when pitched from
sea to figurative shining sea – gram ma mother earth glum
where live yikyak wired vanguard trulia tried optimism to hum
nonetheless, swallowed down behavioral sink went – me mum
bling bloviation, once worth matchless peerage, now pitched numb
lee into morass of temporary confusion, where plumb
line delineating circadian rhythm offset, when athwart pilot rum
man strait ting and bickering with Lilliputians slum
bring within islets of langerhans defiantly thumb
ming nose, where body, mind & soul weeknd viz a bully did cower
hence mister clock, who got high-jacked 3600 seconds per hour
experienced head, thorax and abdomen diminishing in power
wrought indistinguishable Whitsuntide as sour
grapes imposing ill fitting sea legs, which folded like a faulty tower
crumbling skeletal carapace, resoundingly surrendered,
and back slid vis a vis space/time continuum did devour.
Black hole event horizon indeed kept lock step as das joint mill hoard
Sucker punched the band wagon of father time, whose riffs a silent chord
nsync with atomic fractional second bored
quirky shenanigans toying with chronometers
counter point of view shifted to oppose this minute accord.
letting go of trying to let go
is a stubborn hammer to the rusty nail of life
a dream come true ago i was in awe of a superstar
a broken time machine later i was neck deep in question marks
my mind was an indecisive balloon in constant states of fluctuation and contemplation
moonlit dreams of a certain celebration raced through my head at breakneck speed
the crash and burn came about when you decided that you had enough
it is then that my heart knew no more arrows that meant anything
opportunity keys were now eye candy museums for passionate locksmiths
my biggest regret is having regrets at all with you as that only subject
i go bonkers everyday and healthy alternatives never fall on me
the only weight i ever feel is that of your ice boulder shoulder
letting go of trying to let go
is a repetitive door slammer with endless pails of strife
"NA" poetry contest
Sponsor: Ink Empress
3rd Place.
Jamais Vu ~ "The feeling of being unfamiliar with something that is familiar. The opposite of deja vu."
These days, life is shroud in a fog so vivid
I’m forgetting what it was like before
I’m feeling saner in a truth so twisted
Nights sure have a way of exposing deplore
(And it took a while to realize but-)
I was jealous of all the lies I told,
the lessons I sought were self-assured
clotting my throat were vehement wisterias
as I let fear smile a perpetual hysteria
My tears tasted metallic
the tracks on my cheeks told tales of crimson
thoughts bitter, bitter, static
just blood in my veins and sickly sweet venom
Back then, you didn’t matter
that’s what I tell myself every plight
this world is an illusion yet to shatter
it is why you are prone to this pending bite
But words are the one time machine I get to have
the epitome of cruel hope each one of us vies
Yet we set ablaze dreams of ash
You and I, my young magpie
Alas you changed and I am changing
I know the reason we have changed is not time
for you were charged the crime of weeping
and I am mourning an ending mime
One last lie
I want to remember the person I was
One last goodbye
just another farewell my heart lost
I struck the flint against the steel
sending sparks showering over
the tinder I’d arranged in the pit
topped with the single bit of char cloth
from the tin of my fire starting kit
Not many know how to do that these days
The weight of what I was about to do
demanded the old ways
Breathing life into the flames I fed them
until they crackled into a conflagration
Beside me sat the box I’d hidden away
in the corner of the shelf in my closet
under piles of sheets and pillow cases
Within it stored what he’d worn
that arid August day we’d met
like trinkets from a time machine
The black T-shirt with the guitars
The red plaid flannel over it
After almost a quarter of a century
they hadn’t faded or degraded
His scent soaked into them discernable
The smell of his cologne still clinging
Transporting me back to the moment
I’d first seen his face, heard his voice
felt his touch
I held them in my hands feeling the fibers
replaying memories like a movie
of that single year
They were all that was left
of the me that had been
happy, hopeful and free
Like the last remaining relic
of a civilization that has ceased to be
Silently I placed them back in the box
Someday they’ll mean nothing to me
What if when you walked, you could float?
When birds were tired, they took a boat,
What if angels came to dine,
Raindrops made your mood feel fine,
What if roses tasted like a summer peach?
When you wanted Heaven it was not a far reach,
What if kittens could talk to you?
And gorillas were the color blue,
What if rocks had faces?
When you blinked you could go to new places,
What if there were chocolate trees,
When in the desert you could almost freeze,
What if dreams were another life?
And butterflys appeared when there was a room filled with strife,
What if children had their own town?
When adults wanted to visit they had to dress like a clown,
What if we sent murders to live in space?
Had a special pencil that allowed parts of our life to be erased,
What if each person had a two hour pass for a time machine,
Each time you whispered, snow turned into ice-cream,
What if you had wings and could fly,
And you would grow taller if you told a lie,
What if every day you could choose where you wanted to live,
What if people in your life learned how to forgive
What if cats could play the flute
And when someone was talking you had the power to hit mute
What if Monday was really Sunday?
And December was really May
What if when you looked outside your window everything was grey.
What If?
By: Sabina
What if contest
the darkness and the quiet
both wear white cowboy hats when merged
it takes me back to two gallons of oreo ice cream and my early 30s
things were still cheap then
the music was still good
i lived for that streetlight and a phone call from her
convenience used to me my mistress
she pulled me in with her many a unpredictable gifts
the darkness and the quiet
together they brought about peace and never started a riot
it takes me back to galley kitchen reflections and my favorite microwave oven
things were still affordable then
the music was still enjoyable
i lived for the smile on the face of a full moon and a phone call from her
now here i am....in a pandora box time machine....
looking forward to the residence inn in the center of the time warp
daddy died alone in his home
ashtrays with cigarette butts completely hoarded his deathbed
the smell of smoke almost immediately made my eyes turn red
i regret the 15 years since i last saw him
however i choose not to trip
daddy died alone in his home
i have a quiet conversation with him in the wee hours of the morning
i find myself knocking on the door of the visual voicemail on my phone
his deep, raspy bellow is simply asking me how i am doing and how he would like to see me sometime in the near future
i wish that the elements of those many years of cigarettes would have never bumped into the dreadful doom of atherosclerotic cardiovascular disease
please go visit those responsible for the roots of your life
please do not let time, stubbornness, pride, or fear control any part of your personal turns in direction
one day in the center of your plans to finally go see said loved one,
a curveball may come out of nowhere with a wind that strangely kicks
the carpet can sometimes taste like rusty coppered regret when the mouth and the tounge hits it as a result of complete disbelief
all that you will have are many wishes and several interrogative wonder whys
the next thing you know, you are living in time machine blueprint permanence
ABUJAS TIME MACHINE
We do recall the day Abuja
arrived in a strange flying machine
claimed to have created da ding..
landed at the caffe near..
our lecture halls...
Abuja took some permanent markers-
wrote some gibberish on the wall..
alluding to a malfunction of his-
time machine..the professor came
out to witness crazy Abuja antics
Abuja enters the caff e.. snatches
a newspaper from a lady..eating
chicken... Bujas claimed he could via..
his time machine read the next
months newspaper... abuja predicts-
the funny part..he is a bomb expert
now...trying to stop one from going
kaboom.. in the near future.
according to Bujas as hes fondly named
the machine would stop ze bomb from...
going kaboom..ze future is here bombs-
have gone kaboom but none where...
bujas stood, we are safe bujas neutralized
the kaboom...from ze terrorist..
and to you who will make ze time machine
know our abujas has already traveled
to the future.. we not sure we like him..
messing our future..bujas-
Hopping on his machines the wrong way...
did a hair rising crazy stunt... did i see
a television chute in his contraption...
he flew back to wherever he comes from
its undisputed bujas is crazy,
but its not disputed hes very intelligent..
Mwanoo young buja..
the crazy inventor of our time..
Abuja of the time machine fame..
Abuja - the proffesa frowned....
and ordered us back to our lecture
halls... who knows what he do next..
Lewis k Nyaga
The Time Machine is built and ready to try
Final preparations complete ready to say goodbye
I would travel back to the day I was born
The machine fires up sending me airborne
The next thing I know I am transporting my mom and myself from the birthing room
Looking at myself flashes great memories of days gone by
Now that I am seventy looking at me as a newborn I start to cry
I wonder what it would be like to start life over again
How would I change things from what it was like back then
Suddenly an alarm goes off it was just a dream
It just goes to show things are never like they seem.
It's always those who reside in our hearts,
whose words, like lightning,
electrocute our soul,
and in each pain there is a lesson.
Her life was like a room without a view,
those 'rainy day' eyes,
could have formed a deep river,
but no ship sailed upon it,
to carry me to her
and I would have kissed away every tear.
Misplaced, I could feel her yearning,
for a home, she had never known,
confused and lost, but her silence,
left her trapped in burdensome meadows,
and I wonder if I could have shown her the way.
From the silent echoes of her tongue,
I could feel the malady of her spirit,
feel the lacerations piercing her heart.
If only my words could have soothed her,
but even they could not save her.
As the lights dimmed,
silent stars became the nature of my poetry,
I asked the moon why?
but clouds covered his expression.
Now my mind is a time machine
of her memories, her voice still haunts,
as I ponder if the thunder will persist,
because I'm too afraid to close my eyes.
Simple Musing
Silent One
4 October 2018