Short Cables Poems
Short Cables Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Cables by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Cables by length and keyword.
Closed sliding doors opens up to a box
Cables, conduits and wires, hydraulics
Elevator
4/02/18
written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2018©
There lives a pro elegant man of wires
His actions are carried out with pliers
HIS gratis keeps all trouble
Cables turn red, peace double
The electric young man of wires!
I can see myself
Outside my window
I'm not the bird on the wire
But the pole on which the wire is strung
With a hundred other cables cut and hung
Limp and spent
Outdated and irrelevant
the cold raises things
bread doesn't rise in the cold
bodily we do
sadistically
which one the left or the right
getting out cables
always forgetting
positive or negative
my battery's dead
ABILITY TO READ MUSIC
Not me
Maybe Mozart.
Just cannot understand.. . . .
Tadpoles on telephone cables :
Is all.
.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Burnt out.
Bent.
Wired.
Wild.
I’m shallow as old trenches.
Oof.
Maybe a pail filled with old cables.
A slab of me in my prime.
Undesirable.
Like the sluggish way sap dries.
Or doesn’t at all in the humidity.
Like dead ladybug tea.
My best times were just that:
Soggy human skin flakes.
!!!!!!!!!!!
he’s rockin’ cool man from Plain Wreckage
who surfed chat rooms with lewd language
cables flashed girly *****
wifey caught him nude solo
chopped dumpy oldie’s 4-inch sausage!
-----------------------
**uh, oh... no offense to the guys here, lol!
well, that's what women can do
which high-tech cannot do :)
______________
Did you see air
Fragrance,
And gravity?
Can you claim to see
Love, hate
And disloyalty?
Did you see the path
On which sounds and
Magnetic signals travel?
Do you brave enough to declare that
Running electricity in cables
Chargee in batteries
All seen or unseen things etc.
Are present in the world?
Now reply
Without hesitation
Aren't I (God) ?
Wrestling has been around for ages,
Remember the Romans with there cages.
Ever since then it has gotten more violent.
Seldom does the crowd grow silent.
They hit each other with steel chairs and tables,
Leaping off ladders and walking on cables.
Injuries come quite often.
Not to mention their bodies are softened.
Going to see them live is really cool, And its all to see them hard hitting fools.
Your stinging invasion of audacity through my eyes.
A curse of honing tranquility.
Nest of station of a world that never dies.
Nor hampers loves possibility.
Drowning pool, maelstrom of emotional drool.
Teach me you and keep me after school.
Reach me with your umbilical cables.
Drain me of the essence and wrap me
in your silkened spool.
Hymn, Vowel, Fable?
Please be true.
Why can't you, be ?
Since last June they’ve been working our main street
waiting in lines had us all off our beat.
Now in the middle of March
can we lose any more starch?
With all four lanes closed, for routes we compete.
Perhaps next June, when the pipes all are done,
cables in place and concrete has hardened,
all the bumps will be leveled;
we can get back on schedule.
Can a year’s aggravation be pardoned?
She spews lies and hatred on cables and wires,
She hunts down those with watched fires,
We see her twisted brains on her decrepit head,
As we live a life online with laughter and reality read.
Casting her inanity of verbal vomit with fervor and joy,
Her anonymity sits around nothing with her evil ploy,
We gather our strength to burn her away with fire and light,
As we prepare to make a stand and put up a good fight.
GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE
In the sea at the end of the west
Curves of orange vermillion
Mathematical perfection with the sunset
It leaps, it vaults over:
Like an arrow straight it flies
Out of the fog - sky bridge
Like a flowing golden gown,
Towers and cables woven
With wings full spread
Like two vermillion angels
Protecting the narrows, soaring
Unsupported, floating over the strait
Where America ends.
She flies on her broomstick and enters cables and wires,
She hunts down the pure of heart and never tires,
We see her pointy black hat on her wicked head,
As we live a life online with fear and such dread.
Casting her spells of verbal abuse with fervor and joy,
Her coven sits around a cauldron with their evil ploy,
We gather our sage to burn them away with fire and light,
As we prepare to make a stand and put up a good fight.
Take for a text the dust on the shelf
Read from its crumpled accumulation
Imagine an origin out of thin air
Fertilised by soft currents of energy
Reaching out limblessly to the overspreading
Tangle of mystery cables.
Read in the wan lamplight
The unspoken years’ story
Speck by speck gently positioned;
Coherence emerges
Into space beyond seeing.
Then regret supervenes
On the furry grey moss
And floats up and away
To the darkness of loss
There together, side by side.
He, the pilot; she, the ride.
Same but different is their focus:
Hers a pattern; his a locus.
His, of old, a line of red;
Hers coerce a twisted thread.
Hers, producing loops and cables;
His, a safe trip home enables.
His propels across the vast;
Hers are going nowhere fast.
Hers produce a supple fleece;
His, in excess, draws police.
Neither, for the other’s, wheedles;
Each observing different needles.
Suspended by cables from the ceiling
He waits for unconsciousness
Every wound dripping on the floor below
Words can't escape his discarded tongue
Over on the table are tools for torture
Little does he know that he is not alone
Full white bloody lab coat greets him
Not explaining what she'll do next
Licking her fingers, she takes the knife
Undoing one clip, she licks her lips
Sensual breaths can be heard
Tracing her fingers on his chest, is ShewolfNLust
Buds of a blossoming word,
Rooting thoughts beneath
Earths cold canopy.
You will raise the dying leaf
Steel bridges of rain.
Where cables hold the heart,
To Flowers, bay ,and harbor
Death and life join two parts.
But you make new again
The breath of one dandelions
Upward spiral of love –
A budding flower of sweet peas.
Words pass the pouring cloud
Holding those departing hours
Raining seeds ascend
There waiting mothers of sky
To live no more with dying
The woman of the day cables brought us a decorated egg
I would have rather had some ale, in a sturdy looking keg
Our crocodile-like creature wanted to taste the egg of course.
The blue bird of happiness was irritated, we call him Mr. Norse.
A dragon with a striped tummy showed up carrying a sign.
Everyone stand down, the woman yelled, that dragon is all mine.
We had no idea what happened to him, but she was all upset.
Mr. Norse who is a gloomy goober said “she will eat him, I do bet.”
The woman of the day cables brought us a decorated egg
I would have rather had some ale, in a sturdy looking keg
Our crocodile-like creature wanted to taste the egg of course.
The blue bird of happiness was irritated, we call him Mr. Norse.
A dragon with a striped tummy showed up carrying a sign.
Everyone stand down, the woman yelled, that dragon is all mine.
We had no idea what happened to him, but she was all upset.
Mr. Norse who is a gloomy goober said “she will eat him, I do bet.”