Sensors Poems | Examples

Physics of cyber dense

My ground is pretty solid 
My statement is really worth 

I many inadequacies foiled
I really respect force

I am mightly explicit weapon
The credit of AF defense 

My engines your brain boil
I am drone that distills essence 

My electronics prone to tectonics
My sensors a lot sense 

Use power of sonics 
The diligent phonies

Physics of cyber dense

Dog

Don’t ever doubt their unwavering loyalty,
Omnipresent in their prolific pedigree,
Gifted with smell sensors acting sharply.

Blooma Pie

Blooma Pie
Humble Slice,
Nimble Listener,
Blooma’s a wonder,
Aishes Chayil!
Middos Thrice Nice,
Her Yiddish Kopf is Wiser,
Avoids Goyish Blunder,
She heaves a sigh,
At ridiculous whys,
Her insights are glisteners,
Chaim’s warm summer,
Is sum of Blooma’s “Pi”,
Her humor disguised,
By her whimsical muse sensors,
“Bli” Blooma, Bummer!
“Cum” Blooma, Pecan Pie!

A Tribute To Senses

We eulogize our parents, kneel before teachers,
Pay obeisance to idols, and praise every benefactor...
Write poetry on our love, lyrics to our heartthrob,
Elegies in the heartache and play Endymion for a Selene,
Making rainbows out of our pale inane existence.
But when it comes to thanksgiving, some never figure on our list,
And of the few, we are prudent, tongue-tied, and grossly inadequate.

Connate with this corpus from conception
Oh my senses and sensors! You have made me what I am.
But for you I would never have travelled the distances I had,
Nor perceived and indulged in this spectacular world! 
Oh, me!
It grieves to leave, yet a new stint is equally tempting.
And before I am dragged out of this housing reluctantly
And watch dumbly, you being impaled and consigned
Let me thank you with all my heart, 
Dear senses and dear limbs!
And as a tribute to you, dear frame, 
I shall leave behind ... the name!

In A World Where I Do Not Exist

In the world, where I do not exist is the world
without love and creative minds for people in it
have no emotion or natural intelligence for they
act like robots for everything is done for them.

They do not smile; they wave a hand to say, hi!
They do not laugh that those sounds of a belly
laugh, when your stomach hurts, is non-existent.
They do not speak words of love that give butterflies.

They do not think for everything is programmed.
All they must do is choose and push the buttons
pertaining to the work or activities they need to do
in the world of automation or advanced technology.

Creative minds with creative thinking applied in
various careers or arts are considered nothingness.
They use artificial intelligence using machines,
sensors, electric cars in their real world …

A world so monotonous, repetitive, tedious, dull.
A world lacking in excitement, lacking authenticity, 
so boring for people with creative minds, such as
artists, musicians, poets, like me is not in it ...

Hinged

A single raindrop  
kissed my cheek,  
and you tucked me beneath  
your jacket canopy  
before the message reached my sensors.

You sought to be my guard from harm  
and elements alike,  
shielding me like precious, carried cargo.

Stars spun from my eyes  
and danced like twinkling fairies,  
and I thought this must be  
love.

Safe, in the bubble you kept me,  
where it was easy-
until it wasn't.

My backward shotgun ride,  
securely hinged to your pickup.

Your shield of well-intended,  
false protection,  
weighing me down.

And I'll die trying  
to rise again, to walk away  
from rain.

before the war

Born before the war

The sky was sullen and sorrowful 
was the mist smoke from hot cannons
on crackling radios, people listened to 
a man shrieking and thought 
what a useless idiot
my birth was painful for my mother
she cried
 my brother entered the room
 slapped my face for hurting her
He was four years old and born,
a mild fine day in May
 thus of happy disposition 
expert in telling jokes
and in later years, wore my leather
jacket I had bought in Buenos Aires
October weather has much to answer for
my gloomy opinions are banned 
on the Woke sensors on Facebook
who says, if you cannot be pleasant, send
a picture of a day in May
Me, I was expelled when the junta of four
colonels who ruled Greece for drinking ouzo
and be critical of them
Sent to an island for the mad, but six
month later, the hapless four officers 
joined me and became orderly, cleaning 
bed pans

The Jeopardy Suit

If there was a suit
A suit of sensors
Aware of your actions
Following your mind, your movements
A jeopardy suit
That killed you with a lethal injection
When an imaginary galleon hit you with cannon fire
Or you clipped a stealth fighter’s wings with your own
Or crashed your tank in an ambush
Would you wear it?
Would you wear the jeopardy suit?
Are you already wearing the jeopardy suit?

Tidbits

 * I'm trying out Halloween 'Harley Quinn' looks *

If light is the fastest thing in the universe,
why is darkness already there when light arrives?

After watching Harry and Megan Sussex grub for ever more cash and attention, I’ve decided that they should start a OnlyFans site.

We’re going to a booze-free dance party.
“You don’t have to drink to have fun.” I assure myself, in the bathroom mirror, but somehow the event sounds like a high school dance.

I’ve been reading the Internet - was it really a giant squid that sank the Titanic?

...

Panpsychism Is a scientific theory postulating that consciousness is part of the fabric of the Universe.

On the theological level, why would God (or nature) create the bitter taste of espresso and vivid, azure skies slashed with rainbow sunsets if stimulating consciousness weren’t important?

“Colors, tastes and smells are no more than names,” Galileo declared 400 years ago. “(as perceptions) they reside only in consciousness.”

Does life exist, as sensors, to experience stimuli for the galactic consciousness?

Tracking the Extraterrestrials Amongst Us

Tracking The Extraterrestrials Amongst Us
?
In shadows cast by stars above,
A nation's watchful gaze has found.
In covert ways, they seek to prove
The beings from beyond our kind.

Eyes keen, they trace celestial flight,
Through networks vast, their sights aligned.
Government's grip, both day and night,
Tracks beings wondrous and refined.

With satellites, they map the skies,
Piercing depths where secrets hide.
Codes decrypted, veils revised,
To trace the otherworldly race and kind.

Agents blend, in crowds they roam,
Observing signs beyond our sight.
Unseen hands guide, decode the tome,
Revealing truth, with cosmic might.

Their radars sweep, their sensors sniff,
Tracking traces left unseen.
For aliens amongst us, they'll sift,
Silent guardians, their vigil keen.

But veiled in words, this knowledge lies,
Hushed truths, unknown to most.
For they hide, beneath the bluest skies,
Their secrets kept, by the curious host.

The Daredevil Rescue

Stranded in war torn Sudan, 
Dreading yet another dawn. 
In Wadi Sayyidna town,
Hopelessness was weighing down.

Men and women, young and old, 
Watched the civil war unfold.
Homeless, desperate, full of  fear, 
Longing for their near and dear. 

Then on 27th April night,
A C-130J took flight. 
Manned by pilots skilled and brave, 
Tasked to rescue and to save.

They were flying almost blind, 
No navigation aids would they find.
Degraded strip, no landing lights
In the darkness of the night. 

Infrared sensors scanned the ground;
No inimical force was found.
Using goggles for night vision,
Thay carried out their tough mission. 

An enthralling tale had begun;
Six score passengers and one 
Shepherded onto the plane.
Headed for their homes again.

Valor of the highest kind,
Audacity was redefined. 
The Hercules and its brave crew
Achieved a feat of derring-do.

India's vaunted military might, 
Wrote another chapter bright
In our valiant history;
There for all the world to see. 

Written by Colonel Ramanan Duraiswami 
AMC,Rtd 
29th April 2023.

Decisions

I count the ceiling tiles once more
Hear the footsteps in the floor
Can feel the drip inside my arm
The liquid magic gives me calm

Pupils dilate as heart pumps blood
Round my body to cause a flood
Of opiate to kill the pain
And numb the sensors in my brain. 

But still I am acutely woke
To every little prod and poke
A sense of being out of now
A shift in time and space somehow. 

Being so far out of sense
Control is long gone, jumped the fence
Alters you forevermore
Near dying causes change for sure. 

The pain, anxiety, constant fear
I could not see an exit clear
For me to pass away one night
So I had to stay and fight. 

Fight for my very life itself
The one thing that you can’t buy is health
I had within me power to survive
I dug deep, found it, had to thrive

For my children, young and tender 
To my illness could not surrender
And now it’s in the distant past
But trauma lingers to the last.

God Stops Tower of Babel

God had with his finest sensors
Picked the edifice and its sponsors,
Then surfaced to have it videoed.
What angels could have Him radioed!

God,all along Himself radar,
Knew what to do to Man's ladder
And bombs can throw to burst bladder...
Bur-no!-He is always father:
Should God not be man's guide rather?

Men should only sparsely gather,
Save in streams with soaps that lather
No exceptions—Blast Men's Cadre!

And so the Tower kissed Nadir...

Each of the Five

What rose does not more beautiful appear
after your eyes have gazed on it so long?
The lark I now mellifluously hear
because you drew attention to its song.
The crisp aroma of dawn's petrichor
becomes acute as we walk hand in hand.
The taste of coffee pleases all the more,
partaking as we hunt shells in the sand.
To touch your face sends every neuron humming,
with you my sensors fire every minute.
Your heart and mine in one accord are drumming;
Our house is home because your love dwells in it.
You heighten every sense, each of the five;
With you beside me, life is more alive. 

Written 29 Jul 2022

Borderlands

I am riding through the Borderlands
That place of harsh, arid beauty
Carrying out observation for 
This period of detached duty.
It is that time of day,
The setting sun at my back
And my sensors tell me aliens
Are following my track.

It is time to sleep
Until first light;
There is a time to run
And there is a time to fight.
Tomorrow will tell 
Which it will be.
Tomorrow may be 
The proving of me.

The code of conduct tells me  
Only to kill as a last resort
But I am here alone
With no resort to any support.
Did the writers of the Code
Ever face the prospect of strife
Did the writer of the Code
Ever have to risk their life.

The sensors will warn
When the aliens are near
Automatically broadcast 
A warning they will hear.
Tomorrow in these Borderlands,
This place of harsh and arid beauty,
Will it be talk or fight 
In the performance of my duty.

• Short Sensors Poems
• Famous Sensors Poems
• Best Sensors Poems
• Read Sensors Poems
• Long Sensors Poems
• Sensors Quotes