Short Monitors Poems

Ten monitors
Nine hours
Eight safety messages
Seven binders
Six coffees
Five computers
Four clipboards
Three maps
Two microphones
One stubby pencil...

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I recall the old school desks,
Ink for fountain pens a pesk,
Ink wells with lots of blots,
Blotting paper smudged the lot,
There was ink on all our hands,
Ink monitors in history's land!...

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Bus monitors, support staff, heed this plea, before you are home free. Be vigilant, Check every corner, crevice, every nook you see. A child left behind, abandoned in fear, Is a wound and stain that sears....

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Time in life is a thorn 	
Time made you conceived
Time made you to be born
Time monitors your growth
Time will make you to die
But time will not allow you
To live forever on earth
Time will tell you to go
And leave this beautiful planet...

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hands flying around tv monitors.
 playing tennis, feeling like john mcenroe
 with my headband on and nintendo
 remote in hand. 

coffee tabled comentators 
add to the suspense, break point, 
mental note play to his backhand
 and dont trip over the couch....

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The man 
with the scythe
is having his way
with your day.
You think it's no 'biggie'?
It's like the coins 
in your Piggy-
you counted eleven,
he calls it seven,
says he's the brethren
who delivers you
to heaven. His is
the power that 
monitors your 
hour....

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Stillness seeds this cell
of death-borne illness,
underscores the needs 
of one who cannot
function by himself.

Bedsheets icy white, 
blooming flowers 
in bright profusion
litter uselessly.

Monitors wink, blink 
their indifference; 
scant recognition,
little consolation for
a father and his 
sorrow-stricken son....

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Stillness seeds this cell
of death-borne illness,
underscores the needs 
of one who cannot
function by himself.

Bedsheets icy white, 
blooming flowers 
in bright profusion
litter uselessly.

Monitors wink, blink 
their indifference; 
scant recognition,
little consolation for
a father and his 
sorrow-stricken son....

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Stillness seeds this cell
of death-borne illness,
underscores the needs 
of one who cannot
function by himself.

Bedsheets icy white, 
blooming flowers 
in bright profusion
litter uselessly.

Monitors wink, blink 
their indifference; 
scant recognition,
little consolation for
a father and his 
sorrow-stricken son....

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I am not astonished at all: 
If someone stepped in your front, 
And bully You like a moron. 
You will find being forlorn
In a Helpless complexion  
Even though Many people  
And many monitors out there 
Looking on you 

As you are too unfamiliar 
To the onlookers 
And too common 
To the monitors, 
Achieving an open Robber...

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Everything went silent 
The monitors and doctors panicked voices 
everything went dead
I knew I was dying 
The first night is the worst
Doctors not knowing if you'll really make it
Stress levels rising
Hearts breaking
Tears being cried all over the country in my name
Pressure rising 
Everything went quiet
As I stopped to breathe...

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Big brother stands still watching
His monitors, from on high
Evil always gets the switch
The switch that says goodbye

One day, he sees a lovely lass
He wants her, but there's a glitch
She loves the one that loves her
He stares at the goodbye switch

He knows, what he has to have
He gives the switch a shove
But big brothers, big brother
Stands watching from above...

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It must feel good to say at last 
The ceiling is shattered 
And the door is open 
It must feel good 
But I looking at the ceiling 
Think of icy rains 
Monitors on my feet instead of chains 
Weevils dancing in the hoarded grains 
And blind men wiping at dark blood stains 
It must feel good at last to belong 
To see your face on the totem pole 
Hear the world sing your song 
Muting the lyrics meaning about the cold...

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I am Satan’s prophet God is using,
Because He is certain Satan is losing:
Another thousand pigs to surely perish
The Homeless Anew to this not cherish.

The Devils mouthpiece God monitors his megaphone:
In the end, God’s Messages in Satan’s tone
This, the latter not happy to condone
Because in me has built his throne…

Yep, Satan’s script God keeps editing
Satan from it not much eliciting
And would soon cease soliciting....

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The soft swell of the sea
              Waves rise from its floor
              The surge of the tide
              As it crashes to shore.

              The rustle of leaves
              Flutter in the wind 
              The spell of the forest
              Creatures lurking within.

              Could even these I forget
              In my daily routine
              Of Patients and Monitors---
              No window between?...

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The vortex path into my soul, mirrored in projection
On the outside looking in, a window of reflection
Disabled by an art of choice, a blinding writ emotion
Reading the essence of your voice, then hearing your devotion
The canyoned crevice of our minds, grow deep with indecision
Bridging gaps most far and wide, channeling our vision
This TV case, a shell that traps and shields me from so much
And dampened soul when monitors fog up each time I touch...

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Stillness seeds this cell 
of death-borne illness, 
underscores the needs of one 
who cannot function by himself. 
Bed sheets icy white, fading flowers 
once bright, now lifeless, 
litter uselessly. 

A steady stream of visitors 
will offer their support, 
feeling helpless, hopeless, 
as they fumble for the words 
stuck in their throats. 

Monitors wink, 
blink their indifference; 
scant recognition, 
little consolation for a father 
and his sorrow-stricken son....

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Stillness seeds this cell 
of death-borne illness, 
underscores the needs of one 
who cannot function by himself. 
Bed sheets icy white, fading flowers 
once bright, now lifeless, 
litter uselessly. 

A steady stream of visitors 
will offer their support, 
feeling helpless, hopeless, 
as they fumble for the words 
stuck in their throats. 

Monitors wink, 
blink their indifference; 
scant recognition, 
little consolation for a father 
and his sorrow-stricken son....

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"Crisis!"
"Shelter in place!"
Sirens scream from tv monitors
Teleprompters indicate emphasis points
Stringing our fear
Along enough
'Till commercial
Breaks
When products offered by advertisers
Promise relief
From
Worry...

Drink this
Eat that
Drive this
Erect that
Smell this
Swallow that

Drink flouride
Eat gmo's
Drive carbon emissions
Erect a better you
Inhale cadmium-coated chemicals
Swallow cortex syngeing sleep aids


And
You'll
Be
Fine


10/27/13...

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His soft tissue, it ripped
   All his discs, they had slipped
To the ER, the ambulance zipped
   To right this poor fellow's ship

His wife's hand he gripped
   On the worrisome trip
His whole world had flipped
   His wings had been clipped...

The monitors blipped
   His confidence dipped
Liquid steroids he sipped
   Drip-drip, drip-drip

Here the doc snipped
   Over there did he clip
Then he grinned, and he quipped
   'You've no more spine
     ~ Just a postscript.'...

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