Typewriter Poems

clickety click

the old klunker was my friend
he lasted till the end

clickety click
clickety click

i'd sit back feeling free
words would come to me
i'd have my glass of wine
a sip at every line
the images would soar
until they could no more

clickety click
clickety


Submitted on March 8, 2025 to contest ONLY MARCH 2025 POSTED sponsored by BRIAN STRAND  -  Honorable

Typewriter

If in his time the mechanism had existed, would he have written even more?
Would all his neighbors believe him mad? As he watched beauty succumb to deaths door
His ethos words impress; insanity only when possessing exquisite levels of horror 
Incessantly; even more incessant rapping comes sanity from the walls, halls, ceiling, and floor
A split vision

the typewriter

The Typewriter

When a boy, the world appears near
climbing over fences, no need to open a gate
Across our house, a grey building, a school 
for those who wanted to be welders or
architects or some other trade.
The caretaker had many keys, we thought
he was the boss, wore a yellow coat 
and walked with dignity 
He shouted at us kids

I'M Sitting With My Fingers Above the Typewriter Keys and Saying Out Loud, I'M Listening

...bugger

Lost Thoughts

What made them think it was wrong...
For typed lines left unfinished 
Are lost thoughts untold...
No love letters, no poems, not a song
One day the rusted keys fell cold

Finding the Old Typewriter

We found the old typewriter in 1967
None of us knew whose it was at one time
It was hidden in a corner of great grandma’s attic
At this time, I was using an electric typewriter.
This antique typewriter was nigh onto impossible to use
You had to push the buttons with the force of a sledgehammer
We did not find

Typing Words On My Old Royal Typewriter Letters- Words and Poetry

Ole to yon poet writer of words
Yet engaging tarring rhythmically graphics
As all four corners images edging
I have dreamed of these those sketches
I heard an endearing, developing edging
That moment my soul grew Polaroid™
Much I marveled this irresistible press release
Extra-extra read all about it
I remember I was benefiting, computer buffering
By the grave I saw the waded balled

The Typewriter

I have bought an old typewriter.
Black and silver scrolled, heavy as history.

Up all night, dreaming up a desk for it.
The desktop had to marshmallow plumpy
to avoid the rattle of any disjointed poetry.
The white legs shaped just right.
I put a black lace garter on all four.

The antiquated machine
speaks a thousand words of English,
if you peck at

Typewriter

Tap, tap, clickety-clack
Thoughts vigilantly stamped
Trademark of transcription
Technology's prologue
Twain's famous "Tom Sawyer"
Time etched black and white scene
Tinted with grandpa's dust

4-27-2021

You'Ve Got Style When You Write

Free verse is great any day of the week,                                              

Ode To a Sky-Blue Typewriter

Introduction:

I’ve noticed that some internet poets posting their own work on the net via a blog, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and so on sometimes use a typewriter. To clarify, instead of simply downloading a poem straight from their PC, they type it up ( old style ) on a scrap of paper, often crumpled or stained

Corncobs

As a young boy named Bob
I was a bit of a slob
As I did my sweet chewing job
With typewriter teeth cleaning corncobs.

Many years have flown past.
I have grown old at last,
But dentures don’t force me to fast.
New typewriter teeth are having a blast.

Date:10/19/2019
Picture 3

Typewriter Magic of the 60's

Bright black uniform letters
Popping onto the stark white page
Loud smacking satisfactory pops
Pop T
Pop Y
Pop P
Pop E
Royal
Smith-Corona 
Olympia
Brother
Typewriter magic of the 60’s. 
Predecessor of the Word Processor and the Computer.

The Typewriter

I have bought a garage-sale typewriter.
It is an old replica of an even older machine.

It should have a desk of its own,
but the computer has eaten all of that space,
and its plastic belly keeps getting larger.

Up all last night, making a desk for my typewriter.
I am handy with words, but it wasn’t easy.
The desktop had

The Old Typewriter

The other night at the bookstore in a young family strolled
and it didn’t take but a minute for them to make me feel old.

We have an antique typewriter in the store…
(the kind that makes a clicking sound and ends with that familiar ‘ding’)
which the young girl took one look at it and asked:
“Dad, what is

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