"tappity" poems
You say it’s just drawing
“Nothing to worry about.
Just draw what you feel.”
My hand hesitates
Over the box of art supplies
Eventually, I choose a medium
And place it, unmoving, against the paper
You tap away incessantly on your computer
I haven’t moved a muscle
For several seconds
Yet still I hear your continual
Tap-tap, tap-tappity-tap
As I finally start to draw
I wonder what you
Possibly could have typed
Besides
“Client chose a green crayon.”
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
Falling, gaining mass and speed,
Their need,
Return to the Earth from whence
They came,
Their landing was not quiet, sounded
Like a riot,
With the staccato tappity which caused
My heart to race,
While I lay in my bed, pillow under my
Head, where
Thoughts went rat-a-tat-tat staccato
Keeping me awake
This rapid concerto was not restful,
Yet I seemed,
To make it through the night with my
Eyes closed
But woke tired, to find my toes a tapping
Staccato, perhaps
All night
©DWE102013
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 12:37 PM UTC
I woke to a knock at the door one day,
And stumbled, to put on my gown,
The place was a shambles, and last night’s tea
In cartons, was scattered around.
I hate people seeing the way I live,
They shouldn’t call round, it’s a *****
But called out, ‘Who is it?’ and got the reply,
‘It’s me, it’s the upstairs witch.’
I had no idea she lived upstairs,
The apartments are all very small,
The slightest of noises will carry on through
The ceilings, and paper thin walls.
I opened the door in bemusement then
To see who was pulling my leg,
She wore every colour the rainbow sent,
Pushed past me, and said: ‘Call me Peg!’
I followed her into the wreck of my room,
And mumbled, ‘I know, it’s a mess.’
She shrugged, and she pointed my PC out,
‘I knew it was that, nothing less!
You sit and you type through the early hours
I hear all your whistles and bells,
Your tappity-tapping is driving me spare,
And worse, is confusing my spells.’
‘I have to compose when the mood is high,
And that is from midnight and on.’
‘And I only spell when the Moon is nigh,
I can’t til the sun has gone.’
We stared at each other with little grace,
Both grim, with a certain intent,
She wouldn’t be giving an inch to me,
I murmured I wouldn’t relent.
‘We’ll have to come up with a compromise,
I’ll help you, if that helps myself,
I’ll spell in your program a silence key,
And you’ll be at peace with yourself.’
‘But what am I getting from you in return,
This sounds like it’s going one way…’
‘I’ll bring all your stories to life,’ she said,
‘In colour, and one for each day.’
‘I’ve written so many, you’ll never keep up,
I’ll need to go back through my files.’
‘Just open the drawer of your cabinet,
And I’ll carry you there, for a while.
I’ve seen all your stuff on the Internet,
Your devils and demons and ghouls,
I haven’t a clue what you think you will do
In a garden, with so many fools.’
She sits in her garret and plays with her spells,
I type without making a sound,
I open the drawer and I walk on the shore
Or hear bells from the church in the town.
I follow each lady I’ve written in verse
And make love when I’m feeling the itch,
They all wear the colours of rainbows at first,
And they look like the upstairs witch!
David Lewis Paget
Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 3:51 AM UTC
Little drummer boy in my class
Ratta-tat-tat
Beating on his desk
Tappity-tap-pat
Keep the beat going friend
I've never spoken with you
But your knocks tell me everything
You are so pumped, excited
Today's the day
And your poor pencil gets to be your outlet for your excitement
The teacher tells you to "knock it off"
He doesn't get the irony
Mister, don't you see that he's trying to?
Regardless, that energy has to go somewhere
So now the pencil goes to work
On your paper
I can see the hearts, and the unmistakable names
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap
Now your leg goes to work
Like a jackhammer on the floor
Little Thumper, if only she could see just how excited you are
The flowers in the bag, the sign propped up against your desk
A smile creeps across my face
As my mind drifts to my own experience
Thump-thump-thump
Now my leg goes to work
Like a contagion, the room is infected
Love is, after all, in the air
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 3:25 PM UTC
old telegraph road
_clickety-clack_
births, deaths and marriages
_tappity-tap_
did you hear the news?
_yackety-yak_
it is my duty to inform you...
_flippity-flop_
the pleasure of your company is requested...
_clappity-clap_
at 2:03pm (AEST) Monday, weighing 6lbs 7oz...
_drippity-drop_
old telegraph road
_yackety-yak_
eighty miles of cable
_tappity-tap_
biographies dotted and dashed
_clickety-clack_
Aug 20, 2020
Aug 20, 2020 at 1:19 AM UTC
I can't stand the silence,
That emanates from others souls,
So I bring my rhythm against,
the empty hollows,
The music of my heart,
the beat the flow,
It's a beat so strong,
A rhythm I can't control,
tap tappity tapping,
on every ones doors,
sharing the beauty,
of those melodious chords,
the kind of music,
that changes things,
the type of melody,
that can only be made by heart strings.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 3:51 PM UTC
a girl, laying down
on her stone cold bed
listens to quiet tappity taps
on the pastry roof over her head
she likes to dream, to conquer (and scream)
like in three girls & a cig walking,
she likes to stop, to think, to see
but her watch's-a-tickity-tocking
the compass of 16 brown cats' feet
are keeping her company, after all,
she lies in bed and dreams about
her neighbourhood flooding with blood
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 5:01 AM UTC