Tippity poems on Hello Poetry

Alan McClure Nov 2010

Lament

tippity tippity tap
tap tap tippity tap
tippity tap tap tap
And
stop.

This is not it.
This is not art,
this is no way for me to start.
This glowing screen
this cold machine
can never catalyze my dreams into
                                       communication
                                                   conversation
or fire my
                                                            imagination (nor can
The mincing of a pen
across neat lines).  Writing only hurts my hand.

And so,
I stand.

Re-align the ol’ synapses
Click my fingers and my HOUSE collapses!
   And  THERE,
Planet Earth, with a grin, says,
“I dare you!  Throw form to the winds!”  And I,

I want to blast my words from the sky
with a big, black blunderbuss,
scatter the survivors to the four corners of heaven!

I want to ****** my fingers, scraping in the grit,
Frantically digging in the glaur and the grime for runaway rhyme

I want to haul my metaphors in, thrashing, from the sea
Hold them, know them, set them free!

I want my similes to flatten me
Like rhinos on the rampage

Tell me your stories, in everything you do
Make a bonfire of biros, a pixel pyre
And dance  your poems as the flames leap higher!

I want to write with my FEET across a Scotland-shaped sheet!

I do not want to be neat.

To tether in letters,
To file for forgetters.

Words on a page are birds in a cage,
Poetry unspoken
Life, unwoken.

- From Also Available Free

SRM May 2011

the appendix

the cold vein of IV brushes my face
it awakens me to my father's tippity-tap to his workers far away
the muted news channel on the screen by my shaved head
that shows the face of the most hated man, now dead.

i understand now that doctors are not soulless.
though they may talk too much
and are as funny as moss.
'cuz when he asked if there was anything else bothering me,
he looked for an extra second.

Oleander Micheal Osiris Nov 2014

Silent Tears.

Tippity tap
Flippity flop
Splish splash
Drip drop

Two eyes
One mouth
Two ears
Still uncouth

A melody fills my ears
As symphonies cause cheers

Hiccup cough
Drip and drop
Wheezing sobbing
And stop

Ten fingers
One pencil
Piece of paper
But merely a doodle

A melody fills my ears
As the audience cries silent tears.

I know this poem may not make much since, but these are a lot of the things I notice when I am trying to calm myself down after a breakdown.

#sadness #tears #emotions #rambling #sounds

Acid Loves Mercury Aug 2014

Tick-Tick Pocket Watch

Internal parts spread out
Taken apart, way across
Hop-scotch blocks,
And little girls
Hippity-hop

Toes in each block
In time to a tune
Drums pock a beat
On the little child
Inside the watch

Icky-tickity, tock, tock
A tear from the eyes
Like a drip, faucet
Then over the falls
Niagara in a barrel

Time doesn't, not really
Exist to be selfish, always
Giving a bit more, another
Second turns in to a minute
By yourself, in a barrel

Going over the falls
And right at the edge
Toes over the top
Feet in the air
Head over heels

You look at your watch
Tickity, tickity-tock, tock
Hippity, hop, hop
Right over, toes in the box
With a roar, a tear

Coming together
Tears, not for pain
Like a band on a watch
Pinned to keep place
Just in case you fall

In love, hippity-hop
So when your feet reach
Touch the sky, tickity, top
You can check the time
So know how far you fall

Tickity, tippity-tip top
Check the wrist watch
Toes in the block
Skipping rope
Keeping time

All of the above
Inner chyld, tock, tock
Beautifully in time
Perfectly aligned
Inside your mind

Playing hopscotch
Little girls' games
Over the top
Clippity, tock
Tick, tock

#mercurychyld

betterdays Sep 2017

into the breach...

into the breach i go
no heavy footed
but on tippity toe

into the dark night i sail
in a boat shaped like a whale

into the forest i run
with a smile and bread crumbs

the highest mountian
i will climb, only to
roll pell meel down the other side

i will walk on clouds, swim each
and every sea...i will be as magnificent
as only i can be...

i will dive with polar bears
and fly with albatross
will run with giraffe
and stand with rhinoceros

and when i am done with this day's play
home to you i will come,
with clothes, *****, ripped and frayed...
and you will sigh and grump and say...

"little man, what did you get up to, today?"

my little man's anthem...

Christopher Paul Feb 2018

The Intellectual Misconceptions of Professor Merrynot

One night, when my head lay nestled
Softly against some down,
One night in particular I was awakened by a sound.
Perhaps I am dreaming? I thought to myself.
But if I am dreaming,
How can I ponder to myself?
Awake.
Yes I am certain of this.
Awoken from my slumber it is obvious.
But why? Is what I wonder.
Why so suddenly?
And sure enough the answer,
Was right in front of me.
A rappity tap
A rappity tap TAP TAP
Subtle..but I heard that.
I slowly lower myself from bed,
Careful not to bump my head.
I tippity-toe
                    tippity-toe
To my bedroom door
Which of course,
To my remorse
Is on the upper floor.
I peer around the corner,
But I know that no one is home.
Its just me and Mr. Mittens
Other than that,
I'm all alone.
I creep along the hallway,
Careful not to alert my guest
I stop atop my spiral staircase,
And listen closely for the rest.
Bingity boom
                        Bingity BOOM BOOM!!
That was definitely in my living room!
Wide awake and terrified,
I grip the railing very tight.
Step
         by
              step
                       I ease along,
Bumping every picture on the wall.
My heart is pounding in my chest.
I need a second to catch my breath.
1...

2...

3...

Its quiet now or so it seems..

4...

5...

6...

Maybe thats the end of it.
I take a breath and begin to step..
Zippity zap!
                      ZIPPITY ZAP! ZAP!
Something just flew by so very fast!
Thats it I've had enough!
Enough of all this really weird stuff!
I MARCH right into the living room,
And walk right into a zooming
                                     zoom!
                                     ZOOM!
A lamp goes crash
                                 CRASH!
A fur ball goes dash
                                   DASH!
Aha! I marvel at the scene.
A scene that is EXACTLY as it seems.

"MR. MITTENS YOU DROP THAT MOUSE!
NO MORE ROUGH HOUSING AROUND MY HOUSE!"

Sky Sep 2018

the artist

are you
satisfied
with yourself?

are you happy now? now that this,
this has happened?

look what you've done. look.

you've massacred social norms, you've completely demolished every existing standard of how people should behave. you've strangled the life out of Mr. Smith, and everything he believed in, from the very tippity-top of his upper-class Anglo-Saxon Puritan upbringing to the very tippity-tip of his well-oiled
nose.

you've blown our minds.

and you call this, what, art? self-expression? Psh.
*******

why can't you go do something, y'know,
useful (for once)? helpful to society--

become a doctor and save lives,

or become a scientist and find cures, heck,

even become an architect and create ******* roofs to put over people's heads, because,

honey

everyone would love to say what they want, whenever they want, in some abstract, convoluted way and put it smack in a gold frame and hang it up at the MOMA. then get applauded by men in pinstripes and handlebars and dainty damsels in petticoats...

or, shunned...

but walk away from the carnage patting yourself on the back for the mortally unfathomable machinations of your mind.

and we're the ones that don't get it? please.

it's you who doesn't get it--

wake up, man. And live as a functioning part of society,
please.

a scene from a historical drama, perhaps. about an artist. or so he was called.

#art #expression #society #people

wordvango Jul 2014

found

It won't be found
    on Google Maps,
nor in the constant
   tippity taps,

or in the boom
   of bass filled rap
or text of *******
   and genitals

lost in technology
   as such
lost in society
   is much

of what we
  truly search and seek,
and that only
  need- is human touch.

Hello Daisies May 2019

Tap dancing

I just want to tap dance
Twirling skirts
Fast feet

Tip tip tap!

Going fast
It's gonna last
Forever

Fun music
No worries
Bring others with stories

To dance off
It's art
It's beauty

It's not unruly
Outlaw me
I'm so quick and speedy

Let me move my feet
In the summer heat
Flowers blooming so neat!

Let me shake my bottom
In the flowing autumn
I feel like I'm a blossom

Tippitty tippity tap!

It's a smack
To the ground
With joyous sound

Musical notes fly
High in the sky
Giving hope a try

Swirl into the blue dew
It's harmonious
And delicious

My feet tapping
The beat rapping
Everyone's fingers snapping

Except I'm burning out
I'm draining like a cloud
Energy spewing down

My eyes burn
My ears hear no sound
Words leave my mouth

My head's gone south
To the floor
I can't take this no more

The tip tip tapping

It isn't stopping
It's going too fast
I'm burning out

Taptaptaptap
Taptaptaptap

How is this fun
We all need to run
I'm burning in the sun

The heat blisters my skin
This feels like sin
take off that stupid grin

Let me sleep
Please stop dancing
It's not enchanting

It's loud and piercing
Everything is gleaming
My blood is streaming

Please calm down folks
Stop the obnoxious talks
I'm not insane

I just must restrain
From too much tapping
Because my body starts overlapping

Panic and mania

#anxiety #dancing #panic #tap #depression #mania #bipolar

Michael J Simpson Mar 2018

The Future is Another Kinda Past

{Holograms and oracles; separate times, same structure}

Slippity tippity toe-scraping up the trunk,
hands finding owls’ hollows, no hoots,
just a dark eye staring at nothing at all.
They hung a God here, didn’t you hear?
They say he lived but lost most of his power;
you ever hear a sadder story than that?

                   {A cell-phone capturing a photo of an ash tree}

The insects buzz weird here, kinda metallic,
like little dust-mote-sized robots hanging
in the air like a million shards of that God;
but that’s silly, I mean, come on,
7th-century nanorobots?, and what’s a robot?
That’s not one of our words but are ours ours?

                                                               {Chewing}

Sweepy-sliding all the way to a heavy root,
and all suddenly so very very misty,
like a dragon with a tobacco addiction,
but we don’t know what tobacco is either,
it hasn’t been brought over from the New World,
wherever that is, and besides, no Boncalo yet,
another few centuries, another few plagues.

       {And the world is destroyed, and they had not a clue}
                                       {Such a shame}

wordvango Apr 2018

apathy of a dry eye

never saw that problem the dry
river's bed
most always had an overflow
into the forest's toes
of  water gushing overflowing
the river's banks
washing the salt off the roots of a
water mocassin ten feet from the bank
hissing
trees roots her trunk wetter
'n they ever have been to pull
her long tresses up
around her *** walk tippity toed through once dry banks
caught the fervor
began
to sashay a bit
dance her  top limbs swaying left
as her trunk had gone right like a whip

root tiptoeing off to the high spot on the hill all the rest the feeling trees had gathered
crying more rain filling valleys
feeling lost for those root bound who couldn't feel
the first drip of empathy dense when it came to sympathy
and you'd think natural selection might take her part in this
and wipe those who don't feel off but I think
they is this Noah dude for the  uncaring he builds a big *** canoe
and herds up one of each *** of the uncaring two them
narcissists a male female those psycopaths one each of breeding ages
one pair each of all the woes
and floats down the river into the swollen *** sea so
they live too,
those whose brains are not capable
of feel of poetry of art.
those are on the ark.
those who have apathy of a dry eye

Man Mar 2022

Can't Even Take A Sip Of My Coffee

cream rises to the top
the tippity tip tip top
atop it all
to top it all off
a headpiece
a queen
a puppet
a president
czar
dictator
prime minister
prince
and yet
it's all old fools
and young morons
running our countries

— The End —