Short Mechanics Poems
Short Mechanics Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Mechanics by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Mechanics by length and keyword.
I’ve dug many a post hole.
Each was equally important.
None were easy.
Few matter anymore.
I’m proud of them all.
There once was a trucking company
Held together with duck tape funny
Repairs a lick and promise
Polished with cloth and Comet
Mechanics work done very subtly
mistake was worst than a bungle or blunder or ****
totally botched, mishandled and mismanaged
auto mechanics excuses put dad in a funky huff
his Ford was in worst shape now, totally damaged
Solemn blueness and the yellow of buttercups,
blended in proper proportions,
sifted through the geometry of the soul,
acted upon by the magic mechanics of alchemy,
yield the fragrance of eternity.
Once there was a man called Robert, the robot
a novice in the mechanics of sensory processes, no hot!
Sight, hearing, touch, smell,
taste: all for moods, rock hell!
Bloody how could Robert rock the bottom if android?
you are there and here
although quantam mechanics states
differently...this is true
at night when the moon
glows silently
and stars light the way
for those at sea
my heart kisses you goodnight,
wherever you are
The wife says those who play the pools
Are nothing but a bunch of fools
I know what she said
But her T-shirt read:
"Get your nuts off with Snap-on Tools*!"
*An American franchise catering
to mechanics
universes in reverse
verses in reverse
still form words
less symbols to believe
less letters to read
folding back into past
accidents
that could never quite
realize or
describe
all the mechanics going on
after all this time
gone
In Newtonian Mechanics,
the future is the past
What lags behind, what sits ahead,
the Jester only laughs
A one for one relation,
its truth in bas-relief
The numbers hail, the numbers fail
—empirical deceit
(Villanova University: January, 2020)
Though of two minds he played it cool
(Which is the sacred feline rule),
Convinced he could not be a crime,
Both cat and carcass at one time,
So for a pulse he dared to feel
To see which one of him was real,
And thus a quaint monstrosity
Was killed by curiosity.
Pink, satin pants,
worn, pulled, torn -
glowing with a personality
all of their own,
through thick and thin,
through nights lost and found,
of loves past and present -
a kaleidoscope of emotion
with no mechanics to speak,
just threads and seams -
and tangled dreams.
The mechanics of the clock
The stutter of the ticks and tocks
The cogs eternally clenching teeth
Singing songs from underneath
The changing features of the clock face
Each hand steadfast in its place
Pendulum swinging, sounds like a knock
Who's there? I ask. Tick-tock-tick-tock.
Learn how to talk to different people, such as:
Mechanics who claim to fix your car and your problems,
Nymphomaniacs who can be kept eeeeeeasily aroused in what you say, and
Ostentorians who will help you be a good listener while standing decibels away.
Politeness and tact with all are the keys.
A piddle of puppies, a pimp of johns,
A flood of plumbers, and a regatta of swans.
A charm of finches, a wriggle of sperms,
A sleaze of lawyers, and a sneeze of germs.
a gam of showgirls, a basket of buns,
a shrug of mechanics, and a groan of puns.
A fidget of boy scouts, a gross of farts,
A sulk of teens, and a valentine of hearts.
I’m only people to other people
to them I’m the guy in the street
yet, to many I’m not even there
stencilling my echo onto a world
as I have on many worlds before
anyway to cut a long story short
I didn’t realise it was him when I
walked past him in the street but
it wasn’t until later I thought hey
I should’ve recognised their echo
I stand in the shadow of the sun
Apart from warmth
I stand in the wake of orbital radiance
Apart from the mechanics
I stand in the distance of history
Apart from the wisdom
I stand in the fiery grasp of hell
Apart from the End
I stand in the center of a nightmare
Apart from wake
I stand, yet I do not exist...
So, I fall to my knees
Form:
things of disbelief
...................................
the crackly voices
of ash concepts would know
the facts versus you
reality gears
mechanics of potential
to one profit thing
but old and ancient
needs that will replace money
still cry "not yourself"
"just the happened facts
self-ie-world is not the facts
understand or not"
stan
Physicians
magicians
who work wonders with a pill.
They diagnose,
prescribe the dose,
and then you get the bill.
Attorneys
journey
to the law books for a clue.
to file a brief
or sue for grief,
but it's legalese to you.
Mechanics
don't panic
when the car chugs in the bay.
They take their time
to wipe the grime.
" It won't be done today."
the road between is....
a logic of wisdoms in....
a silence of time where-be....
space-forms are weightless....
and observations subject to....
a martial art of awareness....
that is mechanics of conscious being....
within the structure inherent to the now....
as a frozen perception accepted without....
questions asked within....
stan sand
The bass drone on the bagpipes play
The man in his kilt plays it
The misty Scottish air receives it
A constant sound
Under the melody
Always whining
Always sighing
Under lying.
In his emotions
He feels he is not good enough
His misty heart receives it
A constant sound
Hidden under the mechanics of his life
Always whining
Always sighing
Always lying.
The mechanics and its doing,
the thought process in place,
the origin of thinking
kept me searching for its trace.
The unsettling feeling,
the stirring at the core,
the magnitude of fearing
caused this emotional downpour.
The mind and heart reeling,
the tremors on my body,
the fabric of my being
shrouded in fear and anxiety.
I will meet you
in the dark
less we be distracted
from the tactile operations
of souls
the feeling creatures that
we are, too often unwilling
to accept and grease mere
basic mechanics of self
thinking revelation a fantastic
outer light, and not those inner
clarities we are born with
illumination not by spectrum
degrees, but by dear assimilation
with the divine
what mean it to say
(you me or she he speaking)
luck a life was saved
that's all well and fine
but what of tomorrows fates
if the heart doesn't stop
there are worse endings
on this roller coaster life
luck implies grace
the living are blind
grace and bad luck are made up
it's all a logic
makes the world go round
reality mechanics
keep yer engine tuned
stan sand
Eighteen
and trying to make
sense of the world
the mechanics of love
struggling with power
experimenting with
its sheer dimensions
stretching boundaries
of courage and regret
Feeling nostalgic
weighing the impact
of choices
of decisions
at this most crucial time
that shapes our future
Freedom is indeed a lethal weapon
AP: 3rd place 2020
Posted on January 10, 2019
Frankly, before clocks
people seemed to get on
just fine—sun enough,
for even on cloudy days
and starless nights
they sensed a seamless
rotation:
So unlike
our endless divisions
of mechanics;
math in place of
devil and God--
with abrupt start
and soulless termination.
I fall somewhere between--
when confronted by the choices
far more inclined
to choose
my own
omnipotent fiction….