Remotely Poems | Examples

Hazel Pity

It's a pity ~ such a pity ~
That behind those eyes lies nothing but hazel pretty.

It's a shame ~ a great shame ~
There's zilch we share In common.
Remotely similar, or the same.

It's a heartache ~ a real pain ~
Each other's hearts, Both lives left stained.
Losing more than we thought Possible,
~and~
ever would've Gained.

.

System Overload Rondine Back To The Future Tribute

Woahhh.. rock and roll. Definitely.
The system may just overload. 
A lead foot going down the road. 
Soft, a bit smooth? Not remotely. 
That sound broke apart inside me,
hearing the guitar my pulse slowed. 
Woahhh.. rock and roll. 
Man that vibrates, this is heavy. 
Music defined by that zip code,
with every lyric  those roots showed. 
It can  take you back easily,
woahhh.. rock and roll.

What's the Deal with Tarzan?

Tim Roth gets shot, and what emerges? Blood.
His innards act like wrecked intestines should.
Those fifties-movies injuns really suck,
with tactics redolent of Donald Duck!
“The whiteys circle wagons, as we feared:
so let’s just ride around them – get mown down!”
You’d see more bloodshed watching Charlie Brown.
And why does Tarzan never grow a beard?

Tim Robbins plans a prison break. Oh well,
they’ll catch him quickly when they search his cell.
It’s never searched, or posters changed, in fact.
And why was Thomas Hagan never whacked?
And Cage’s “Wicker Man” was just plain weird,
and not remotely scary. I’m at ease
with oddball cops with masks on: “Not the bees!”
But why does Tarzan never grow a beard?

“Commando” – Arnie’s shooting-up a storm:
a hundred dead a minute is the norm.
The baddies take ten thousand shots at him,
to no avail. They’re not from Arnie’s gym! 
You want to know why Rin Tin Tin’s revered?
The dog’s so smart, he counts: he knows when you’ve
exhausted all six slugs – then makes his move.
Yet why does Tarzan never grow a beard?

maybe

maybe one day, in another time, another universe, the little girl in me doesn’t feel so deeply. maybe she learns to balance her emotions so she won’t end up getting so hurt every time. anything remotely upsetting in her life, makes her sad for weeks on end. enough to the point where she won’t eat. if she doesn’t get her way, she holds a grudge and people judge her for it. i hate that i’m like this, that the little girl in me is like this. but maybe one day, the little girl inside of me won’t feel this way.

Black Jack

"The dealer cheated!"
You cry to deaf ears
Or at least, ears that need some aid
"The game makers should've by now retreated,
You will keep in mind my tears
When you pay for what I paid."

Honey, the world doesn't work remotely like that
It won't turn in your favor when you play Blackjack
The masses are cruel, they'll ridicule you like a fool 
And you'll simply stand there as if you are their mule 
When you display bare minimum poise
Do not expect the public to kneel, preen, they'll reciprocate
To them you will only be nuisance, noise
And yes, it will be easy to self-deprecate.

So don't expect to walk into the casino to gamble 
Without checking for a place to run
If you're narcissistic, consider this an eerie preamble 
You won't get to act high and haughty and shout 'Twenty one!'

Heaven's Harpsichord

Harpsichord in heaven?
Cubic or spherical?
Bread, O baker? Leaven.
Just flicker as you fall...

Dancing lights apace in space?
Watch them in her face.
Ghost, vanish without a trace!
Gold, case, carapace!

Desert floor in winter?
No more than one inch, snow.
Shredder, got a splinter?
Tormented, O my foe.

Panels, dance about the night!
Sparks in porcelain!
Falcon, gather wind in flight!
How we'll meet again...

Yellow eyed priest, bid the feast!
Shepherd, are ye fleeced?
Squire, page, are the wheels a-greased?
Only if they're pieced.

Connect, O my fibers!
Build high the city walls!
If they're born to jibe, sirs;
They're bound for taking falls.

Tyrant of the borderland?
Show them how we stand!
Crush them in thy hardest hand!
Order countermand!

Silence in the place of whole?
Remotely control.
Ye gods, what is mortal soul?
Golden light a-bowl.

Tower

Its not so hard to see the purity of nature
Made not by human, life rejects control
Imagine freedom is a real feature
Not just a concept to excuse a tired soul
Much steel and glass, and cement, what’s the plan?
Is that the core of rationality we own?
Why it is always tower has to stand 
If we can work remotely, live alone? 
We can develop skills, but not the view
In contrary, there is no view at all
Another tower casts a shade on me and you 
No wonder I can’t wait to see them fall.

Zen mode

we wish we could 
heal hearts remotely
gently and anonymously 
without of course interfering 
since love employs no use of force 

as we wish so it is we are empowered 
to become a beacon of healing light
writing in braille for recipients blind
that the estranged draw nearer 
voluntarily as willed by God

Elm trees facing the wind

I saw the Elm trees 
Standing tall in the cold winter
The freezing wind has withered their dense leaves
Blowing up alike  fireflies 

Their tough branches hit the hurricane
I heard the wind hissing in pain

The baptism of the wind 
Revealing the resilience of the trees 
When the hope of spring has been quietly  arriving 

A person's life is like four seasons
Cold and warm, prosperity and decline will always come 
Resolutely facing the bitter rain and desolate wind
The God of Hope will meet you soon 

The silhouette of sails sailing remotely away
Fearless of turbulent winds and waves sailing in
One can touch the dawn of the other shore

Any coldness calls only for your passion
Once cross the desert of winter
We shall meet the lush greenery of spring

In the warm spring breeze, 
Raindrops are softly swaying 
The delicate leaves are gently dancing
Only trees experienced wind and rain
They will be qualified to compare highness with the heaven
Only the sword light sharpened by adversity
Then can we create a rainbow in the sky
Only those who have experienced hardships
Then, it can depict the magnificence of life
And cultivate the beauty of life

Closed Minded People

Closed minded people,
almost seem willingly incapable,
of performing any kind of thinking even remotely critical,
and yet everyone is capable of critical thinking.
I only hope that one day the closed minded start practicing.
A good start for them would be a little self educating.

Wild Willie my Stegosaurus

outside, I usually I keep my stegosaurus Wild Willie hidden,
but if I shriek  he comes at a gallop, feeling validated and bidden.
Police have come twice, called by my neighbor Sam, who is full of fright.
I laugh, asking who has ever seen a real dinosaur, right?

Willie cannot got to work with me, because I work at an elementary school.
They do not even allow pets, for fear they might sweat, potty, bite or drool.
He stays at home in his corner eating eggs and rice, watching Netflix.
His tail accidentally opens the curtains, which causes a real conflict.

I bring home eggs and rice, so Willie is totally content and clean.
He has a little poo pile out back, where his poos are used for flower sheen.
We have never had an argument or disagreed on anything remotely big.
Except he did have a hissy fit when I suggested adopting a pot-belly pig.

A Little Caveman Reasoning

I have always liked the hollow dark,
the cave, the sealed carcass of the night,
the lightless womb of the closed seed.

You said you were human,
and I laughed until my belly shook the earth.
I Imagined your bones cracking
from the heat of a great fire.

I ground my teeth with the ash
of a few brittle words.

"No one is 'human',
we are alien seeds replanted,
into a fertile blindness.

Humans are the shells,
the pods, the skin of a reality
they have yet to realize or reveal.

The garden,
what you call 'soul',
is a transplanted being,
it lives concealed,
within that alien you.

Keep that garden,
hidden from any who would,
proudly claim to be
remotely human!"

O dear, Chanticleer

   Chanticleer has a big problem, clearly
   Now that so many folks work remotely
     He crows and he crows
     But at heart he knows
  You sleep late ~ bye-bye job security

Darkness

In the ebony night time stops to flow,
the still hands of the impetus clock freeze
the timeless infinite pathos in congealed instants 
for listless life wandering on the shadows of past,
stares through the layered strata of darkness,
designed to mask the acuity lattice. 

Clumped silver cloud gleams with astral halo,
moon dust drapes the mind with mesmeric glow,
as ordained stars sprout hope remotely 
in the dark night of the inner cosmos.

Indomitable faith fertilizes the fallow mind, 
void perception in miasma fill elixir of exuberance ,
waits for the new sunrise to see
the creepy cloud in the obsidian sky melts, 
resurgent rain suffuses the  silhouetted senses,
for in the stalled time on agonized psychic canvas  
there is a darkness framed.

Just Think of It

  I can talk to my brother 10,000 miles away
    Make conference calls from Beijing to Monterrey

  Warm up my car from the comfort of home
    Attend a ballgame in the rain under a dome

  Manage a company while on perpetual vacation
    Buy a new car with no sales negotiation

  Design a skyscraper with a few clicks here and there
    If a doctor, perform surgery remotely from anywhere  

  So, why can’t I just eat right and lose weight
    I guess it’s ‘cos home-cooked food tastes so great

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