Long Timer Poems
Long Timer Poems. Below are the most popular long Timer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Timer poems by poem length and keyword.
This morning, remembering the end of times is not that far off
I sampled my cinnamon and sugar toast glad I did not have a cough.
The timer on the oven was showing me I had gotten up pretty late.
It was too late to do most anything, but time is frankly not my fate.
Words are all we offer as proof we existed, we poets and writers.
We come across as passionate, as big brave dope fighters.
In actuality, we are more frightening on paper, if you want the truth.
We can become pilots, astronauts, daredevils, and sometimes Babe Ruth.
I can write about kitchens, pirates, dragons, elves, and other crazy things.
A pear, its moisture sucked dry and wearing a lei of succulent apple rings.
I take down six pens in a row, but the ink is all dry, making me mad.
I am scribbling on empty, several times. It is irritating and sad.
Box of desire opened under the futility of trying to get something to write.
I throw down the pens and walk outside to encounter my garden and daylight.
The morning is salvaged when I see the butterflies flirting and flitting.
It is a fantastic day to sit and admire my yard. A day for porch sitting.
I just bought a kitchen timer
Sealed inside a plastic shell.
When I tried to get it open,
I did not fare very well.
First I slit it with a steak knife
But I didn’t get too far.
If I sliced my hand instead,
I’d probably end up with a scar.
So I then switched to a scissor
Thinking it would cut right through,
But I really had to struggle
As frustration grew and grew.
Next I grabbed two jagged edges
And I ripped the thing apart;
By this time I’m sure my blood pressure
Was soaring off the chart.
Surely there must be some packaging
Requiring less drastic
Measures to uncover what is waiting
Underneath the plastic.
For I’m sure I’m not the only one
Whose struggles to unseal
Something factory-made in China
Turn into a real ordeal.
What we sacrifice for cleanness
And to stop a thief from theft
Leaves the rest of us consumers
With not one nerve that is left!
Misty muted days in Scotland
part before you
making room for your own silence.
Now Beinn Mhòr's summit is under my feet
There was no spectacle,
no one to shake hands with.
Yet as I stood, shakily at the top,
looking down
upon 'Loch na Keal' far below,
I felt like a real climber.
That night back at an Isle of Mull pub
an old timer,
(a small dog at his feet),
leaned toward me.
He appeared to be blind
and used a white stick.
He politely inquired
had I gained the peak?
With some pride I declared
that I had conjured the mountain!
He supped his beer thoughtfully.
”Aye laddie,
tis good to stretch yor legs a bit,
I used to climb her twice a day
but yer see
yon wee dog is getting old noo.”
I paid for his ale and quietly left.
Out on the heated tarmac
Sounds of multiple aircraft engines
Fumes from the planes
Lung clogging matter inhaling
Sporadic glow from the sun
Through skies filled with clouds
Dancing beside and around each other
Like a great spread of grazing sheep
Happy passengers boarding their on-time-flight
Security alert!
Be extra vigilant
Man your post, observe all things strange
Who are they kidding?
It’s me, not them, if I have any say in the matter
Certainly not them and I
Since I would have long been gone
They say in a security emergency
Stand at your post
I say, run, run, run
The first life you save should be your own
Think I am selfish
Try standing before someone
Who does not value their own life
With chest filled with organic matter
Wires attached to a timer
They say stand at your post
I say you would better, run, run, run
I'm down on the ground,
My brain starts to pound,
It may not be fun,
But ten seconds aren't done.
10 seconds remain.
I still have time,
To arise again,
The timer hasnt hit ten,
Time isn't my friend,
8 seconds remain.
I punch hard, I kick,
I choke, I feel sick.
I try to yell, over the incessant chants,
This is the last time, my last chance.
Five seconds remain.
I call out, my plight.
I never wanted this fight.
I press up with all my might,
I feel progress, my eyes are losing their light.
Three seconds remain.
It all hurts, to breathe,
Under my worst foe, I am beneath.
For it is no human, it's within me.
I need to get up, to be free.
But it isn't over, I can win,
I push against that evil twin,
The sadness loses hold, I can get up.
One second remains.
How the world views treats older people
Not today you're in the way
Older people are boring they're wild awake and snoring
Some have prosthetic teeth
Some never awake there're always sleep
It's very, very hard to meet and greet
Take them seventeen minutes to cross the street
Place them in a home, just leave them there alone
In a nice room with flowers
Send someone there pay them minimum wage just to shower
What about that next hour, I myself forgot
We will visit them on Mother's/Father's, Grandparent and Uncle Riley day
What's the meaning is of "feed them hay"
I don't know, I'm so afraid
What's the matter with them anyway?
Hands are shaking, feet are bad
Fell/fall down at the kitchen table hit their head
Some want to go to bed at day round eight O'clock in the morning, Well
Their an waste of time, they eat their own slime no wait that's the babies
You don't understand they can't shake your hand
No grip no pun intended
How do you remind them
Don't whisper when you walk
And don't yell when you talk
All this and you still remember chalk
Well I'm going away from here
You don't have to come see bout' me well
I'm just an old timer
Because my name is Foretime cause..
I forgot about you?
08/24/15
by James Edward Lee Sr.
from" 2015 Poetry to Bridge Generations UNO Elderly and Youth"
8/13/17
Occasionally cooked with a kitchen timer
Often bought and drank budweiser
Sometimes worked with an atomiser
Amid elevations that were lower or higher
Always had much more than heart
From the start
Being smart
Becoming familiar with tools, items and parts
In the light or dark
Won't always be as smooth as silk
Move on, stop with the guilt
No reason to cry over spilt milk
The scales shall balance and tilt
Keep training with or without a sword and hilt
Continuing to be invovled in structures being soundly built
Near and far from silt
As well as flowers doing well or beginning to wilt
We lived or should I say we died slowly
Living a day more is a blessing,
To right the wrongs, sculpt out lasting monuments with our blood, sweat and tears
It's also a countdown timer, ticking clocks signalling how close the end of our short life is.
We phased in and out, between each waking moment,
Reality and fiction got entwined,
Caught in the raving madness of survival
As we toil and cuss and sigh and move on breathless,
All in the name of living life.
Chapters by chapters of existence got flipped out,
Some with unwritten episodes, some unfinished,
and yet some with finished episodes with unintelligible inventions,
Yet again, we had chapters with happy endings in their finished episodes,
All in all, it ended, however it did.......
Now, gears of existence are being oiled again,
Puffing out smoky entrails of fresh resolutions to be penned down,
New chapters to be written and lived,
As our short existence roll out before us.
I don't think people understand
Why I'm so angry, or why I'm so sad
The problem is neither do I
The feelings of love hard to defy
I'm living in a sea of rage
By boat is sinking, how big the hole is hard to gauge.
Iv got my oars but im not moving
I'm going under, my boat diffusing
Tactile meetings is the plan
The timer ticking, times already began
This has to be done my way to please,
The broken person only my mirror sees
What will be said, the where, what and hows
Can only be done when my mind allows
Hit them with facts is my first goal
How this plays out is in my control
She'll tell me all that i have done wrong
He will say he knew nothing all along
But in the middle both their stories hold truth
They both told a lie, its me they abused
Do I send her a video, cards on the table?
Or should I knock on her door when im able?
Do I send him a 5 page text?
Or do I put any relationship with him to bed?
Iv never been able to say the word dad
Don't get me wrong I know he is bad
But when these teenagers became adults
Why did they lie and harm their child?
So many questions won't be asked
So many answers they will retract
I don't know exactly what I need to hear
But a sorry won't come from "mummy dear"
I can't hate her; I still love her
If she reads my words she will think I'm the monster
But she's a Narcissit, my brain conditioned
To believe she is right, my loyalty i need to reposition
I need to put the thoughts away in my head
Lock the key close it, lay it to rest
My approach to the situation maybe different
When the pain and anger is gone and my thoughts are coherent
Today I felt some passion again
I found myself smiling, my life to regain
The fact that I was able to feel less mad
Means they haven't won, and for that I'm glad
Time is a healer, life moves on
The child they abused I will no longer mourn
But for the girl in the past and for the me in the future
Things have to be said no matter how bitter
I'm going to leave things well alone till then
Build myself and be happy again
I'll never forget all they have done
But for now my life needs to move on ......
~ Walk With Me Always ~
( Egg Timer )
Come with me Darling
And hold my hand
Walk always
With me
Love
Love
With me
Walk always
And hold my hand
Come with me Darling
~0~
And hold me so tight
Give me a kiss
Two three four
I want
More
More
I want
Two three four
Give me a kiss
And hold me so tight
~0~
Come with me my love
We'll dance love kiss
Neath the moon
All night
Long
Long
All night
Neath the moon
We'll dance love kiss
Come with me my love
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2017
December.10.2018
“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”
- Mark Twain
~ Author's Notes:
The 'Egg Timer' is a poetry form or style created by Erich J. Goller.