"regulator" poems - Hello Poetry

Living under the watchful ticking, Your "Regulator" clock kept time; Mercantile calendar days running down. I never knew you to complain A day in all your life. Art Pribnow married you, Removed you to a little place West of the Yellowstone River To farm and set the world in order. Probably the sun Checked his schedule Right over head by seeing laundry Hanging in straight strung rows Beside the sharp white buildings, No stone out of its place. Only Order Everywhere, but... I wonder sometimes.

0

Jun 20, 2014

Jun 20, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC

don-bouchard

Lydia

Living under the watchful ticking, Your "Regulator" clock kept time; Mercantile calendar days running down. I never knew you to complain A day in all your life. Art Pribnow married you, Removed you to a little place West of the Yellowstone River To farm and set the world in order. Probably the sun Checked his schedule Right over head by seeing laundry Hanging in straight strung rows Beside the sharp white buildings, No stone out of its place. Only Order Everywhere, but... I wonder sometimes.

18

By: Cedric McClester Bang bang ***** die slow There’s more to hip hop Than that ya know It’s more than the bling Some ****** show More than the cribs The cars or the dough The culture’s diverse And you need to know It’s more than the **** shakin You’ll always see On certain shows On the cable TV It’s more than the dissin The fights and braggin rights Bang bang ***** die slow I’m only sayin What ya already know Bang bang ***** die slow We’re checkin for content As well as for flow You’re pimpin the game And the homies know You’re talkin ‘bout places That you’ll never go Talkin ‘bout crimes You never committed And it’s about time To fess-up and admit it Here is the deal You need to yield Cos it’s gettin too real In the field Bang bang ***** die slow I’m only sayin What ya already know Bang bang ***** die slow Ya namean Let me give ya the low Some name themselves After I-talian criminals Sending public messages That attacks the subliminal Then start complainin Once they get popped And the uninformed Blame it on hip hop And it’s not fair That hip hop takes the blame For some of you out there That I could name Bang bang ***** die slow I’m only sayin What ya already know Bang bang ***** die slow It’s about to be a rap For the rap game (yo) Rap is spiralin further Out of control And the government now Sees itself in the role Of overseer or regulator Ya knew it would happen Sooner or later If you go on trial You won’t be around That’s their way of keepin The Black man down All you have to do is jus look around Bang bang ***** die slow I’m only sayin What ya already know Bang bang ***** die slow All it takes for you to be Good to go Is a mouth full of platinum And a video ** There’s more to life Than that you know Don’t let me be the one To say I told you so Cos the seeds you’re plantin Are kinda rough to *** But you’re convinced That you are it And a ****** like me Can’t tell you **** Bang bang ***** die slow I’m only sayin What ya already know Bang bang ***** die slow There’s more to hip hop Than that ya know It’s more than the bling Some ****** show More than the cribs The cars or the dough The culture’s diverse And you need to know It’s more than the **** shakin You’ll always see On certain shows On the cable TV It’s more than the dissin The fights and braggin rights (c) Copyright, 2015 Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.

0

Apr 19, 2015

Apr 19, 2015 at 10:42 PM UTC

German refugee husband: “Liebchen – sweetness – what watch?” German refugee wife: “Ten watch.” Husband: “Such watch?” Carl the Bartender: “You will get along beautifully in America.” -Casablanca I check the time on my retirement watch (A Seiko; they did not think much of me) And consider that there is no time at all Unless Creation is some sort of clock Childhood is watchless, timeless, careless, free But adults must be catalogued and timed: Bulova, Timex, Rolex, and Longines And even a railway Regulator I check the time on my retirement watch - And hustle off to my chapter two job

0

Aug 16, 2019

Aug 16, 2019 at 8:52 PM UTC

lawrence-hall

Retirement on the Time-Payment Plan

German refugee husband: “Liebchen – sweetness – what watch?” German refugee wife: “Ten watch.” Husband: “Such watch?” Carl the Bartender: “You will get along beautifully in America.” -Casablanca I check the time on my retirement watch (A Seiko; they did not think much of me) And consider that there is no time at all Unless Creation is some sort of clock Childhood is watchless, timeless, careless, free But adults must be catalogued and timed: Bulova, Timex, Rolex, and Longines And even a railway Regulator I check the time on my retirement watch - And hustle off to my chapter two job

15

This evening I will discover a fibrous black-green substance under the nails of the first three fingers on my right hand. I will excavate it with a nail file, and inspect it in my palm, it will be poked, prodded, and rolled into a ball. I will recognize this substance. While I recollect, There will be a sleeping sea turtle one hour south, twenty minutes out, and twelve meters deep with three long scratches etched into the algae - exposing a marbled shell. My vision will narrow and my senses will perk. I will breath long heavy breaths into my regulator, I will feel fins pushing past, up and through my heart strings, I will spill salt water tears, The ocean is a fishbowl that contains only me, and a creature after my own self.

0

Sep 30, 2016

Sep 30, 2016 at 3:46 AM UTC

deanna-m-zarrillo

Unknown Substances and Their Origins

This evening I will discover a fibrous black-green substance under the nails of the first three fingers on my right hand. I will excavate it with a nail file, and inspect it in my palm, it will be poked, prodded, and rolled into a ball. I will recognize this substance. While I recollect, There will be a sleeping sea turtle one hour south, twenty minutes out, and twelve meters deep with three long scratches etched into the algae - exposing a marbled shell. My vision will narrow and my senses will perk. I will breath long heavy breaths into my regulator, I will feel fins pushing past, up and through my heart strings, I will spill salt water tears, The ocean is a fishbowl that contains only me, and a creature after my own self.

10

My Valued Muse Can I call you my home? As home is where heart is, Shield to my tender wants, The ****** of my inner thoughts. Can I call you by my name? As name publicly identifies, My tag, in every good or bad, You chose to happily claim. Can I call you my investment? As investment is for future security, Planned and evaluated carefully No regrets, I venture capital happily. Can I call you my achievement? An achievement I am proud of, To open sky, I announce quite often, Loud and clear your Goals are met Can I call you my heart? As heart is the regulator of all One's thinking and actions, Without any change of outer being. Can I call you my body? As miles apart, I bleed from a cut, One you experienced whilst cooking, My body forever linked to yours. Can I call you my public officer, As you announce my name in parts unseen, Fame simply from being a disciple of love, My name you broadcast to thousands. Can I call you my book? With chapters and pages, Organized with my attitude and silly wits, Chapters in a storyline that carries my act. Can I call you my Iife? As every possession of yours is valued, As dear to me in every way, As it is to you ... My existence rests with you. ©Perveiz Ali

0

Oct 7, 2015

Oct 7, 2015 at 6:15 AM UTC

perveiz-ali

My Valued Muse

My Valued Muse Can I call you my home? As home is where heart is, Shield to my tender wants, The ****** of my inner thoughts. Can I call you by my name? As name publicly identifies, My tag, in every good or bad, You chose to happily claim. Can I call you my investment? As investment is for future security, Planned and evaluated carefully No regrets, I venture capital happily. Can I call you my achievement? An achievement I am proud of, To open sky, I announce quite often, Loud and clear your Goals are met Can I call you my heart? As heart is the regulator of all One's thinking and actions, Without any change of outer being. Can I call you my body? As miles apart, I bleed from a cut, One you experienced whilst cooking, My body forever linked to yours. Can I call you my public officer, As you announce my name in parts unseen, Fame simply from being a disciple of love, My name you broadcast to thousands. Can I call you my book? With chapters and pages, Organized with my attitude and silly wits, Chapters in a storyline that carries my act. Can I call you my Iife? As every possession of yours is valued, As dear to me in every way, As it is to you ... My existence rests with you. ©Perveiz Ali

37

You were blessed with a voice, One of power and brilliance-- Yet you still choose to sit in the silence? You were given words upon words & stance upon stance-- Yet I see not one sign of resistance. Oh my dear child, What is holding you back? Is it fear of shame? simple diffidence? Your speech is ammunition-- Your lips capable of deliverance more Powerful than the rifles of wars once long fought. Yet you still choose to sit in the silence? Oh my dear child, If only you knew. In a world plagued so greatly with censorship and shame, You’ve been blessed to speak freely as you choose. Under this flag of red, white, and blue, The only regulator of your speech (or lack thereof) Is you. Somewhere across the pond is another-- One just as bright and capable as you. But alas their tender head is still deemed naive & their gifts remain invariably at rest. Even now will you sit in the silence? Oh my dear child, Now do you see? Your ability to speak up is a privilege-- One of rarity and great worth. So cherish this blessing & Hold it close while you can. Because who knows? Just one policy and it could all be stripped free.

0

Jun 29, 2019

Jun 29, 2019 at 2:50 AM UTC

besidethefallenfigs

in the deafening silence.

You were blessed with a voice, One of power and brilliance-- Yet you still choose to sit in the silence? You were given words upon words & stance upon stance-- Yet I see not one sign of resistance. Oh my dear child, What is holding you back? Is it fear of shame? simple diffidence? Your speech is ammunition-- Your lips capable of deliverance more Powerful than the rifles of wars once long fought. Yet you still choose to sit in the silence? Oh my dear child, If only you knew. In a world plagued so greatly with censorship and shame, You’ve been blessed to speak freely as you choose. Under this flag of red, white, and blue, The only regulator of your speech (or lack thereof) Is you. Somewhere across the pond is another-- One just as bright and capable as you. But alas their tender head is still deemed naive & their gifts remain invariably at rest. Even now will you sit in the silence? Oh my dear child, Now do you see? Your ability to speak up is a privilege-- One of rarity and great worth. So cherish this blessing & Hold it close while you can. Because who knows? Just one policy and it could all be stripped free.

34

_“Failure is an option, but fear is not.” —James Cameron_ stuff into your wetsuit strap on your BCD from your regulator take two sips excited you should be we’re gonna scuba in Aruba (did you say Cuba?) I said Aruba stare at the horizon big step into the fray double fist tap o’er your head shows them you’re ok we’re gonna scuba in Aruba (did you say Cuba?) No! I said Aruba remember safety scuba PADI rule of thirds a must never hold your breath or your lungs will surely bust we’re gonna scuba (Yeah!) in Aruba (did you say Cuba?) No! I said Aruba finally we descend enchantment ‘neath the waves turtles, eels, stingrays, sharks scenes that mankind craves we’re gonna scuba (Yeah!) in Aruba (did you say Cuba?) No! I said Aruba we’re gonna scuba (Yeah!) in Aruba (did you say Cuba?) No! I said Aruba. Yo! .~.~.~ __Final thoughts in quintuplet couplets:__ _Water’s calm with clear blue sky Summertime is nigh_ _Be sure to check your regulator You can always thank me later_ _No more time for any rhyme Dive five meters to escape the skeeters_ _If your mortgage is underwater Are you certified to dive?_ _Sea Hunt was a favorite show It’s great to be alive_ © 2025 Mark Toney

0

Aug 19, 2025

Aug 19, 2025 at 12:47 PM UTC

poetry2go

Scuba in Aruba

_“Failure is an option, but fear is not.” —James Cameron_ stuff into your wetsuit strap on your BCD from your regulator take two sips excited you should be we’re gonna scuba in Aruba (did you say Cuba?) I said Aruba stare at the horizon big step into the fray double fist tap o’er your head shows them you’re ok we’re gonna scuba in Aruba (did you say Cuba?) No! I said Aruba remember safety scuba PADI rule of thirds a must never hold your breath or your lungs will surely bust we’re gonna scuba (Yeah!) in Aruba (did you say Cuba?) No! I said Aruba finally we descend enchantment ‘neath the waves turtles, eels, stingrays, sharks scenes that mankind craves we’re gonna scuba (Yeah!) in Aruba (did you say Cuba?) No! I said Aruba we’re gonna scuba (Yeah!) in Aruba (did you say Cuba?) No! I said Aruba. Yo! .~.~.~ __Final thoughts in quintuplet couplets:__ _Water’s calm with clear blue sky Summertime is nigh_ _Be sure to check your regulator You can always thank me later_ _No more time for any rhyme Dive five meters to escape the skeeters_ _If your mortgage is underwater Are you certified to dive?_ _Sea Hunt was a favorite show It’s great to be alive_ © 2025 Mark Toney

50

from birth we're allotted a given time wherein our lives tick to the clock's chime some shall stop curtly short of their days whilst others carry on till the elderly frays time is our prevailing regulator of us it's the foremost dictator hands of a clock circling around and by oh how the hours do unceasingly fly waste not a second of precious existence ever keep stride with all of your persistence at anytime our clocks can deem an end and of us they'll so effectively suspend

0

Oct 18, 2017

Oct 18, 2017 at 6:25 PM UTC

ElizabethSquires

Clocks

from birth we're allotted a given time wherein our lives tick to the clock's chime some shall stop curtly short of their days whilst others carry on till the elderly frays time is our prevailing regulator of us it's the foremost dictator hands of a clock circling around and by oh how the hours do unceasingly fly waste not a second of precious existence ever keep stride with all of your persistence at anytime our clocks can deem an end and of us they'll so effectively suspend

24

The feeling that I give you is one of long hailed and expected love. That word, L-O-V-E, it's possibly the one emotion that can't be suppressed, I came from Selma, a slim that;s mildly better than the ghettos and projects of Chicago. But you know that, you're of the same background, and yet we still find an above classiness inside ourselves. This is real, more real than Farrakhan, and hated and tampered with just as much. No dream can be as straight-forward, a poet is a poet, but when word cun meets form sway, electricity is formed. What people mean is to sneak away and snipe us from afar, gunning what we have down so that the movement fails permanently. They don't know, they can't know, and so they walk around un-enlightened and dreams lose their appeal to them. I had also forgotten love, being tossed around in usage and riddled with untold guilts, but you spared my soul, you chilled my heat and made me the perfect temperature. You are my regulator. I gave all when I gave my heart, but you substantially replaced it with your energy. It wasn't enough to you? It was to me, and that's all that really counts now. They wonder what reason you have to smile, tell them that you're awake. Tell them that you've finally jumped down the rabbit-hole, and it's not as deep and scary as they've claimed

0

Aug 27, 2015

Aug 27, 2015 at 10:31 PM UTC

Poeticjustice

Expression #20 Poetic Response

The feeling that I give you is one of long hailed and expected love. That word, L-O-V-E, it's possibly the one emotion that can't be suppressed, I came from Selma, a slim that;s mildly better than the ghettos and projects of Chicago. But you know that, you're of the same background, and yet we still find an above classiness inside ourselves. This is real, more real than Farrakhan, and hated and tampered with just as much. No dream can be as straight-forward, a poet is a poet, but when word cun meets form sway, electricity is formed. What people mean is to sneak away and snipe us from afar, gunning what we have down so that the movement fails permanently. They don't know, they can't know, and so they walk around un-enlightened and dreams lose their appeal to them. I had also forgotten love, being tossed around in usage and riddled with untold guilts, but you spared my soul, you chilled my heat and made me the perfect temperature. You are my regulator. I gave all when I gave my heart, but you substantially replaced it with your energy. It wasn't enough to you? It was to me, and that's all that really counts now. They wonder what reason you have to smile, tell them that you're awake. Tell them that you've finally jumped down the rabbit-hole, and it's not as deep and scary as they've claimed

6

Is it your mood, The one you swing on that reminds you of me If so, Act like I’m the air you swing through; Invisible and intangible. Swing on and on and on! Ignore my aura. I can’t be your stimulant I can’t be your regulator any longer So swing on and on and on! Swing away!

0

Dec 8, 2018

Dec 8, 2018 at 8:38 PM UTC

Adeoluwajoju

ON THE SWING OF REMEMBRANCE

Is it your mood, The one you swing on that reminds you of me If so, Act like I’m the air you swing through; Invisible and intangible. Swing on and on and on! Ignore my aura. I can’t be your stimulant I can’t be your regulator any longer So swing on and on and on! Swing away!

11

Fifteen points of light, no matter which order counted, fifteen points of light become one. A year of rigor, well documented flash and swords, become grainy, a grid near thin smiles. Bring to me that germ, speak with me and smile. Regulator of past or present. Sympathetic magic, dry bones. Roots of the low density mountain. Effigies or in ****** form? This office, without light. Movement in the belt of crust. A breath moves, another escapes. Fifteen points of light removed. Pony trick. Oats I trade for honey. Hoarse electric wind, not cooling hotter rocks. Stirring years. l'Enfer Wait. Maybe this page is turned then torn. (listen now as these seconds vanish) Avec un lourd trophée à son bras puéril, man removes himself, others follow.

0

Apr 8, 2016

Apr 8, 2016 at 11:20 AM UTC

wordsalwayshurt

Near the old forest pool, newspaper floats.

Fifteen points of light, no matter which order counted, fifteen points of light become one. A year of rigor, well documented flash and swords, become grainy, a grid near thin smiles. Bring to me that germ, speak with me and smile. Regulator of past or present. Sympathetic magic, dry bones. Roots of the low density mountain. Effigies or in ****** form? This office, without light. Movement in the belt of crust. A breath moves, another escapes. Fifteen points of light removed. Pony trick. Oats I trade for honey. Hoarse electric wind, not cooling hotter rocks. Stirring years. l'Enfer Wait. Maybe this page is turned then torn. (listen now as these seconds vanish) Avec un lourd trophée à son bras puéril, man removes himself, others follow.

23

In this no escape, you believe Belief is what makes you enter and belief is what makes you caged. Sometimes it's more complex when you admire a heart The choice is to love it as a pace regulator of the only similarity we possess. One is contended with seeing if it works, and satisfied that it does work. But belief in a heart requires a belief in its veins and arteries where amidst this superficiality some love is pushed out, some is accepted A circulation is believed and life as a body continues inspite of the similarity now named blood Belief keeps believing smeared in it, somewhere inside.

0

Apr 26, 2017

Apr 26, 2017 at 11:21 PM UTC

daipayan-nair

Belief

In this no escape, you believe Belief is what makes you enter and belief is what makes you caged. Sometimes it's more complex when you admire a heart The choice is to love it as a pace regulator of the only similarity we possess. One is contended with seeing if it works, and satisfied that it does work. But belief in a heart requires a belief in its veins and arteries where amidst this superficiality some love is pushed out, some is accepted A circulation is believed and life as a body continues inspite of the similarity now named blood Belief keeps believing smeared in it, somewhere inside.

20

Ori, My intermediary The divinity calleth Your response awaketh my divinity You are here Ori, Gbe ja mi My intermediary I calleth to thee Ori Ma pada leyin mi Call upon my divine helper Ori Lead me to my chosen destiny Ori My divinity My guardian Orisa bi o ba gbemi Ori mi ma pada leyin mi Ori Eleda mi My protector The chosen of my destiny My door to life Ori My life regulator The conformed of my destiny Take me to my Orisa Don't let me down Ori My watchman My interpreter My destiny caller Ori My devotee to the gods Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson

0

Mar 18, 2020

Mar 18, 2020 at 12:22 PM UTC

Tosyano

Ori

Ori, My intermediary The divinity calleth Your response awaketh my divinity You are here Ori, Gbe ja mi My intermediary I calleth to thee Ori Ma pada leyin mi Call upon my divine helper Ori Lead me to my chosen destiny Ori My divinity My guardian Orisa bi o ba gbemi Ori mi ma pada leyin mi Ori Eleda mi My protector The chosen of my destiny My door to life Ori My life regulator The conformed of my destiny Take me to my Orisa Don't let me down Ori My watchman My interpreter My destiny caller Ori My devotee to the gods Written by Tosan Oluwakemi Thompson

36

Within the Crescent City the confluence of architect , engineer , master carpenter and laborer combined , precision , create a cascading sea of individual notes and three bold harmonious divisions ,wind chest , regulator and tremolo breathe life into reed , flaute ,vox humana and diapason pipe of all sizes , large and small ... Her towering facade , en chamade with a voice of the Almighty, so stands this mechanical wonder of wood , metal , cloth , leather.. For this tonal masterpiece will stand the test of time not for song , but as a testament to the imagination , wisdom and determination of her creators !.....

0

Sep 18, 2015

Sep 18, 2015 at 8:34 AM UTC

randolph-l-wilson

Music for the ages

Within the Crescent City the confluence of architect , engineer , master carpenter and laborer combined , precision , create a cascading sea of individual notes and three bold harmonious divisions ,wind chest , regulator and tremolo breathe life into reed , flaute ,vox humana and diapason pipe of all sizes , large and small ... Her towering facade , en chamade with a voice of the Almighty, so stands this mechanical wonder of wood , metal , cloth , leather.. For this tonal masterpiece will stand the test of time not for song , but as a testament to the imagination , wisdom and determination of her creators !.....

2