"locksmith" poems
Lock and key
I have such rotten luck
I try the wrong key
And the lock gets jammed
Lock and key
Was the first ever
Sarah Dessen
Book that I read
Lock and key
One acts as a protector
The other one
Plays the part of saviour
Lock and key
I'm not quite sure
Which is you
And which is me
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC
Thank you,
I don't need anymore than this
just a deadbolt
and a locksmith;
To crack you open without a key.
Thank you,
I don't need anymore than this locksmith;
The bitter sweet symphony of just letting things be,
after letting you out to see the world beneath your feet,
I wanted to be the one to set you free.
Only, that wasn't good enough to me…
Thank you,
I don't need anymore than this
just a deadbolt;
and with a single pull of a kiss,
lock you up inside of me,
so you could never leave me.
Thank you,
I don't need anymore than this
just a deadbolt
and a locksmith.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 1:57 PM UTC
Society has made a pact
On how we must act
People tell me to be a real man
But that seems like a stupid plan
Because every time a guy describes a real man
I hear the way they perceive themselves
A father
Says a real man takes care of his children
A fighter
Says a real man is a protector
We need to break this masculine projector
I used to think being a real man
Meant having a *****
But I'm not even sure about that anymore
How do we unlock
This malebox?
We'd have to leave our houses of hiding
And walk to the road that connects us to each other
But when the fashion is to fake
Our compassion starts to break
In a world
Where things are simple
We can't have a pimple
In a world
Fundamentally filled with maleboxes
We search for a loving locksmith
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 5:03 AM UTC
At the old market place, there is a locksmith
The slipshod ancient road leads to his shop
In the business of repairing locks and making keys
For almost half a century, a dedicated soul
Right from a tender age he picked up the skills
Accompanying his father, to learn the tricks of the trade
Slowly he became adept at repairing the locks
Like a wizard, replicating the keys, for those have lost it
His name spread quite afar, for people sought his help
In times of trouble, as they were locked out of homes and shops
He knew the heart of each and every lock
Reviving at the touch of his dexterous hands
As if he used to command the locks to open at his will
Like a ring master at the circus
Each and every key combination were memorized by him
Recalling them like a mathematical genius
With the permutation and combinations, he found the magic numbers
He wielded the keys like the archer’s precision
Always hitting the bulls-eye
He knew each and every house in the town
For, over the years, everyone had come to him for help
He was the only one who knew the key to open any lock
© Amitav (Radiance)
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 10:04 AM UTC
He is everywhere at once, yet a total mystery
He get's through any lock, yet never has a key
No matter where you go, there is nowhere to hide
He'll be there in the snow, he'll search far and wide
He's the shoulder for your tears
He's the blanket for your fears
He's the voice that no one hears
Yet always there all these years
He is sensitive and caters to all your needs
Where the others fail, he always succeeds
Your every hungry urge now finally feeds
He is the tourniquet for thy heart that bleeds
He is always there for you
In each and every single way
Until you find someone new
And you call him Mr. Yesterday
And now you know who this is truly about
But you may not yet know his very name
Yet you've met him without a single doubt
Because in this game we are all the same
So please, without any further delay
It is and always will be to my dismay
Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Everyman
If a girl is in need, he will be there...if he can
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 10:24 PM UTC
I am a door who has endured
rain, shine, and the hard knocks.
The lock and the key were a couple
who did not get to see each other
when the house owner went to work.
They'd make love to each other whenever
he returned, totally ignoring my presence.
I tried to look indifferent by keeping myself shut,
though sometimes i'd slam myself **** hard.
Today, the owner came back without the key;
he was stranded outside looking worried stiff.
He turned the **** in vain and banged against me.
While i was in pain, the lock was weeping quietly,
anxious about the safety of her beloved missing key.
Without her, the key would be useless and incomplete.
The owner was about to make a call to the locksmith,
but i couldn't gape by the disbelief that she was going
to be assaulted by an alien master key - a serial ******
Copyright, Ronnie Ng 2011
Nov 15, 2011
Nov 15, 2011 at 11:51 PM UTC
when i was a child
my father never checked the closet
i never asked him too
i knew what was hiding there
the secrecy and the skeletons i lay to rest
i kept it shut tightly
locked and sealed
like my mouth
never open long enough
for anyone to know what was going on inside
not even a locksmith could pry open
my closet doors
Sep 5, 2020
Sep 5, 2020 at 3:18 AM UTC
Social anxiety is a crippling cuff
that restrains you to the solitude of your mattress
Fetal position ready for
the red little monster
whispering inbetween your thoughts
"youre worthless"
......
"they hate you"
because your mind has brushed upon
a poison bush
oozing self doubt and fear
& you know you can fight it
but your day has left you weak;
Unwilling to stand up.
Besides, the tissue surrounding your brain isnt a surface you can easily scratch..
Instant relief is not to be expected...
so, bear the irritation we must
till the light decides to bring with it a calm
The sun is an effective locksmith.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 8:15 AM UTC
Hello, whale,
yes, you there wallowing
and swallowing crustaceans
with all your calliousity
and my insatiable curiosity.
What a laugh that calf
of yours was
when it frolicked up
to us diverse divers
wanting to be survivors
of its childlike impetuosity
and eighteen foot
preposterous, gargantuan monstrosity.
When you rose up underneath us
I thought you were going to eat us.
You scared me, whale,
when you flicked us with your tail -
the one you splinter yachts with
when you act as Davey Jones' locksmith.
Of course, I retired then
from my dive-in on leviathan,
happy to survive
your forty-five
tonne introduction.
Then you glided into gloom
and sang your eerie song
about your alien, baleen life
in vast, mysterious,
deep areas of oceans.
Good luck along the whale's road,
you mighty minstrel, you diva of the deep.
This diver hopes all humans and harpoons
will spare you and you can share
your song again.
God speed, whale.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 1:04 AM UTC
A broken lock equals an open mind. An open mind equals a temporary peace of heart. I constantly write in riddles and lines that will never rhyme, that most will probably never read. In my subconscious I relentlessly attempt a Resurrection of civil engagements with an uncivil mind. My internal demeanor never abandons a detail, a key worth remembering and a lock that will always sway to and fro in a shanty boat that is inconsistently worthless and valuable. It will never dock, it will never be entirely worth the stress or the time it would take to tie and secure a ship of that size and quality, or lack thereof. There exists ulterior motives that Miss blonde esteem is seemingly not even aware of, or like her prior, accepts ignorance as a temporary escape until the uncivil mind returns civil. The fact is this. The uncivil mind was never civil, and may as well never be. Locks can be repaired, even when the thief begs for no replacement. What makes the thief the uncivil enemy? Has it ever occurred to any soul, that a thief is only stealing away precious moments that are rightfully his, that circumstances and uncivilized minds have locked away in a pitch black that they cannot call their own night? There surely has been an uncanny instance when the locksmith swiftly turned about to find his prior gazing at him in the golden grooves of the trap. The thieving of one’s own mind, to break a lock enchanted by the uncivil mind, should be easily empathized and understood. But alas, curly blonde esteem will forever submit under the spell of the uncivil mind, who will only cast a shadow upon itself and its priors. It will be remembered in the scent of cigarettes, where it will also be displaced. It will be avoided in the unrighteousness of a friend’s bed in another family’s house, where a respirator and the oxygen tubes intertwining the threshold no longer exist; neither do the white sheets. There will never again be an absence of music behind the actions committed between the uncivil mind and the civil heart.
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 1:27 AM UTC
Shadow coat, buttoned up to the neck,
disappears and reappears under the
sky and lamplight hanging up high, loose,
hurrying around with nothing to do; it does
not notice the suspicion walking around beneath it,
lost but going home, reaching that destination
before limbs give up, fail on the floor, found the next day
twisted in a combination no locksmith
can undo.
Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 1:39 PM UTC
my heart.
feels weighed down.
it has been carved out
the moment I feel safe.
you leave me
with the key I presumed
you would handle with care
the locksmith closed down.
luckily, I had a couple of spares
but, they are hidden away,
I thought I hid them well,
I spared them for safety.
I knew that they could not be copied,
they couldn't be recklessly handed out,
I'd done that too much,
had so much stolen from me overnight.
I don't think my life would bear another break in
I have one left and I've hidden it so well,
I don't even know where it is anymore.
Which I think in the end might be a good thing.
The person who claims that key will naturally know how to obtain it, even if I don't.
Considering they are the only one with the last copy.
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 5:16 AM UTC
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Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
She is like gold, gleaming from the water within,
She is a rose, picked without any thorns,
She is like a bird, free in flight,
She is the wind, always blowing me away,
She is the sunshine, hot and pure,
She is the air I breathe, although she always takes my breath away,
She is a goddess, loyal and mighty,
She is the magnetic pool, just bringing me closer in,
She is a queen, so majestic... my royal majesty,
She is like gravity, always holding me close to her,
She is a princess, always singing the sweetest melody,
She is like a river, her voice so peaceful and filled with beauty,
She is music, always here lifting my spirits,
She is like a lion, so strong and yet so precious,
She is like Earth, always serving a home for me,
She is a locksmith, who holds the key to my heart,
She is like a tree, she sleeps so gorgeously,
She is like electricity, sending a shock to my core,
She is the blue sky, so bright and vivid,
She is like the ocean, her smile so wide and pretty,
She is love, sending my heart warm and cozy feelings,
She is my soul, controlling my deepest emotions,
She is my mind, having thoughts of her every second of living,
She is my power, I cannot resist her pure beauty,
She is mine, always will be, that means forever,
She is my charm, i'm so lucky to have her,
She is my addiction, I can't live with out her,
She is my happiness, always putting this rare smile upon my face,
She is the perfection in my entire world.
Nov 15, 2012
Nov 15, 2012 at 6:40 PM UTC
**** blocked by
wannabe rock stars
in tube socks
standing on the block
like the 2001 Rock
ready to drop candy *****
and knock blocks off of
those who would mock
**** strap wearing
disk jockey’s –
cocky cockney Spock impersonators
lock glocks in boxes so the foxy chicks
won’t flock to the professed
smock of Sherlock Holmes
or dock their paper ships
on the jagged rocks
jutting up from the oceanic
tectonic plate –
frocks adorned with Reeboks
shock the locksmith
busily hocking his shops’
noxious fume makers
while the unorthodox musk ox
in bobby-socks
gently rocks
to the sounds walking out from
the talking box –
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
Picking the lock
That you keep around your heart
If I were a locksmith
That would be a start
I don't know the code
I haven't a key
I will keep on trying
For all eternity
I must never stop
Those chains I must break
Not to have you
Is something I can't take
An emotionless prison
That's where I'll be
I must get out
I must be set free
By any means necessary
This job I'll get done
Nothing can stop me
Not even a gun
Sooner or later
Your love I will win
I will be patient
For our life to begin
You shouldn't worry
Don't have a fear
Whenever you need me
I always be there
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 12:45 PM UTC
I need to be locked up, chained up,
STOPPED.
I'd do it to myself,
If I didn't think I'd find a devious way
to escape
Like chew off my own hand,
Or scream until someone called a locksmith.
Don't do it, for Gods' sake,
Find a way for it not to happen.
Find some ancient mouldy food in the fridge
And chow it down,
Call all your friends,
Find someone in crisis, that needs you by their side.
Turn on all the taps and flood the house,
Get blind drunk.
Feign pregnancy.
Just sit here
And read random poems
Until it's too late
Until it's too late.
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
Push the pins, trick the tumblers;
Hear the clicks, add the numbers.
Artistry at its best, beauty incomprehensible
Such practiced hands, this lock original.
Oh I wonder I wonder, what’s inside?
Then, a chuckle drifts over the sound of shear line.
Survived of failed attempts and melted keys,
Yet, my chest still ends up empty.
May 7, 2012
May 7, 2012 at 11:03 PM UTC
Coastline yellow dawn,
Overflowing fountain
Untrimmed garden,
Left to Decay
Rot in the sun
Bluebonnet field,
Honey suckle sweet breeze
Left to flourish,
Their petals reach to the sky
Light step, on the untreded
Birdbath with feathers flashing about it
Dawning spring, swallowing following
Enchanted breeze, dew on the leaves
Break the cycle of the illusion
Never ending we march along
One step higher another step closer
At the end, Door Closer locksmith
I have to see beyond this
May 9, 2020
May 9, 2020 at 3:31 AM UTC
Love crept up on me
and knocked at my heart
and I tried hard
to open it --
but the key
broke off in the lock
and now
I helplessly watch
as love is swiftly
moving far
away
from me.
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 12:56 AM UTC
Head over heart into some distant fading darkness,
being pulled back into an almost familiar abyss.
You lost me at the outset,
but now I'm finding myself in this.
Your intent is to drown me, I know it.
I've told you far too much.
Placed every key inside your outstretched hands,
and now you're breaking all the locks.
Did I mean to let you in?
Is it too late to bar admission?
Is it even possible to get you out now that you've gotten in without permission?
You're not welcome in this place:
Intruder. Alien. Imposition.
But I'm so glad you're here right now;
please save me from this prison.
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 11:16 PM UTC
I never felt so free to just be me I can’t see how you unlock me like a key. You see the inner me because while I am a locksmith you unlocked me.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 12:04 PM UTC
You are not mine
and never were you meant to be
I have taken
what does not belong to me
In doing so
we were robbed at will's decree
Of forever
replaced it with carnality
Although it felt
like everything fit perfectly
I watched my heart
fight the lie relentlessly
For I have been
long before our lives did meet
Tied to one
who set his soul upon his knee
And I must go
I'm asking you to let me leave
To claim again
the key to our eternity
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 10:04 AM UTC
Things are different and sometimes I wish I remained in the shelter labelled as The Indifferent where soap bubbles were as indestructible as bulletproof glass.
But you have a way of making me roll down my windows long enough to pass me nibblets of living and I wish you never reached your hand in to touch mine.
Safe houses aren't constructed to keep people out but deadbolts are in place to keep me in. I'd never advocate a limb to give me comfort;
your legs aren't strong enough to walk in this shambled home and your arms will burn before they can reach me.
I'm in the middle of flames that do not burn as strong as your eyes and I may not be a locksmith but I could very well create a lock that will keep you out.
I have a lead heart that's as fragile as the granite that define your sketches so don't you try to ring that doorbell because it won't open.
I find comfort in loneliness and solace in pain but you'll never change my mind about spring and how blooming flowers always close up from the world.
Morning Glory eyes that open with light and shut in darkness, you haven't been touched by the poison so let's keep you alive for as long as you are meant to live.
There's a difference between pessimism and realizing that the moon is as good as it gets so while you are safe, I will be as safe as dry wood in a bonfire.
I realize that pain is subjective and that iron walls are as needed as titanium souls but it doesn't stop me from being as frivolous as a dandelion.
Don't look at me like I hold treasures because I'm just a body of ashes and tears that is as significant to the eco system as a star that has burned out eons ago.
Remove me from your thoughts and eradicate every memory that acts as a landslide once I'm gone.
Your soul shines brighter with each passing day that I cease to matter.
And of all the words I've every said or written
remember that the most important is the poem about goodbyes and endless apologies.
I love you,
please forget me
and don't forgive me.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 12:55 PM UTC
#24 | 31 Poems for August 2016
This is not my life, it’s just a temporary façade, if you listen to my voice you’ll discover that it’s my disguise.
I fully acknowledge the fact that I am not perfect but I’d love to believe that I’m worth it.
The hardest part of saying goodbye is seeing me cry and knowing that I’ll no longer get the chance to see you smile.
I wrote this on a Tuesday morning while listening to Siegfried by Frank Ocean while reading the pages of a Dan Brown novel.
I’d build Rome for you in a day and make you forget about all the negative things that critics always say.
Heartbreak comes in the morning when the sun is shining and the wind is blowing.
My heart breaks as I try to piece this piece together and hopefully find peace by the end of this masterpiece.
I’m tired like the Michelin Man but I still have great drive like a brand new Bentley or Benz.
Some days I’m more Bukowski than Dickens, flipping through the pages of my life as the plot thickens.
They say perception is flawed and distorted, perception is key and I need to find a locksmith.
Contemplating about unexpected goodbyes while living off a temporary high.
A part of me had already anticipated the heartbreak so this time around the effects were less detrimental.
My eyes and mind are blinded by the love that my heart obstinately believes in.
I’m thankful for your love, you gave me something to believe in but the time has come for me to be leaving.
This is not my life, it’s just a temporary façade, if you analyse my poetry you’ll discover that it’s my disguise.
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 11:45 AM UTC