Short Typewriters Poems

Thus 
the 
pure flow
peruses
bounds of avarice
flowing highways and typewriters...

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give monkeys typewriters and enough time ~ they’ll spell out a god or two 


# scientific not religious #

By
David Kavanagh...

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    Newspapers can be logs for the fire
        or non-functional rolling pins

    Obsolete as white-stockinged town criers
        along with typewriters ~ has-beens
...

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give
a monkey
a paintbrush
from which forth
shall come a masterpiece

give
a thousand
monkeys the same
amount of typewriters
and one will type Shakespeare

give
a million
monkeys a million
typewriters and several
will type the works of Bacon...

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dreaming friend
like the  chancing days of wind
if i could draw his breath
so sad to watch my friend
growing older
growing colder

don't forget your feelings
spare a thought for me
i am not a startled stranger
something more than typewriters are needed
to record the personal touch
introspection is not an option...

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Aquarium realms
of anointed fools
masquerade as sensibility

Typecast foolscap
tired typewriters ribbons
don't have a prolonged head

Between the streets
where the drunkard
spins his tales

A strange panacea
scattered snakes
launch ta ta  tee

Oh sang the Sea goat
his change as constant as the tide
strangely sympathising
the endless wave...

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paper            typewriters        books and dictionaries
pens             pencils                desk
coffee cups



come on down
we're the coolest sale in town

we've got books
and nooks

pick out a pen
spend less then ten

i'm having a party
so don't be tarty

i've got type writers
and a desk to make things tightier

so come and spend
it's less i have to lend!...

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The Waiting Pencil

She lived in another world
Where typewriters cast too much
And computers were a century away
Still she wrote books and poems
Millions of words for people to read
Each one scratched on a sheet of paper
Wood and graphite became magic
And her touch brought them to life
Even now everyone knows what she had to say
Some have memorized her every word
And her pencil
Her magic wand still rests on her paper
Waiting for her to return
To write just one more word...

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