Quotes about atm, page 2
Double Down in the Jewel
The kid walked through the doors
thar slid open at his approach
No shopping cart
nothing but a forty-four
magnum in his jeans
He blew away
the myopic clerk
making change
at the ATM
On his way out
he paused for an old lady
pushing her cart
and an undercover cop
blew him away
You can see the bloodstains
on the brick wall outside
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poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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Nocturne November
breathe deeply
the darkness,
listen to the rain
pounding drum-beat drops
see glass glisten,
liquid streets stream,
imbibe the stink of mud,
rot of moldering leaf,
as life
subsides.
_________________
atm en Sie tief durch
die Dunkelheit,
lauschen Sie den regen
Schlagen Trommelschlag Tropfen
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poem by Steven Federle
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Cards Or Money
I hate those cards,
that are called,
Master and visa,
for these making me,
to worry about,
the Money, I need to pay.
and always check my credibility,
month after month,
with at least,
ten percent payment.
Freshly printed money,
just out of ATM,
so fresh, very stiff,
no smell of sweat and drugs,
stick with one another,
as sisters, or,
the worn out money,
with the smell of dirt,
stay away from one another,
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poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Forget Me
Forget me like anything,
As you forget to take
Medicine for your aching
Head, as you dropp your key
Of car on the ground
Instead of keeping it
In your pocket, though
Forgetfully, you punch
Your ATM card with wrong
PIN, thus forget me as
You do always with
Trifle things: Push
Me into oblivion,
In utter nothingness-
In the ditch of doubt,
In the torrential rain..
In boundless agony!
But--
I'll stay as an island,
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poem by Nilakshi Das
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The Hoax
when someone emails you
that he has 3 million pounds
and he is giving
all of it to you,
will you believe him?
you ask me
if i believe him too?
alright, i may believe him
and give my name
and address and telephone number
my status, my other
particulars
even my credit card number
and you will say
OH MY GOD
how gullible can i be!
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A generous husband
You re like an atm machine
all the peoples surrounding you
if the peoples needs money just inser the card and then take the money in your machine cabinet
and then spend the money
to buy all the requirements
your wife, children, parents, parents in law, younger brother, younger sister, maid, servant, assistant they re all the peoples who always make your machine cabinet is be empty
thanks for everything...
Your machine cabinet has a vital role for us all
your allowance is our expectation
for reaching all our desire and expectation
remember u in our prayers
may merciful god bless u alot of felicity in your life
amin
poem by meti Rahmawati
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Mom said
In a deep voice, I heard her speak
son, respect a woman...a woman
young, old, midwife, single or schoolgirls
for life is in their hands.
She ain't a victim of exploitation
neither ATM slot to discard cards
but a gold-mine of treasures
for legends lies in their wombs
Blessings are in their mouths, my son
so do curses
worse are their laments on you
for angels watches their tears day and night.
so son respect a woman.
They have golden hearts, so precious son,
the origin of their love, Oh! Son, true love
and their joy is a robust bolster
the secret of every successful man.
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poem by Fate Mcfate
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Waiting....
Iwas always waitng,
waiting for dinner to be served
waiting for my daughter to out,
Waiting for the servicing of the car,
waiting for the bus to come,
Waiting for the train to arrive,
waitng for the night sleep,
Waiting for the calls on phone,
Waiting the credit card to be mailed,
Waiting for the ration card,
waiting for renewal of driving licence,
Waiting the daughter to come,
Waiting for good word from the boss,
Waiting in Q for the ATM,
Waiting for the email response,
Waiting for the promotions,
Waiting for daughter's results
Waiting for a praise from my wife,
Waiting for the friends to gather,
Waitnig for a fove star meal,
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poem by Ravikiran Arakkal
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Her Own Departure
Her own departure is a show.
a big bag hanging on her
shoulders, her left hand
holding a coin purse,
her right crumpling a
white handkerchief wet
with her tears.
she is crying. Her blue
blouse fits her fat and her
black pants are loose
like two shirts.
She wears her white rubber
shoes, sort of telling me
that she will be running
towards the place
that she will be hiding
for days.Or just towards
the airport. Or bus station
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What To Bring
(A collaboration poem with Catrina Heart)
What to carry to a cross country?
A wallet with cash, credits cards,
ATM’s to pay for your expenses…..
What to bring to an outing?
Food to eat and water to drink
to fill in our body needs…..
What to take to a meeting?
Some papers and pen
to take note of the events…..
Except for clothes, make up kit,
Phone, shoes and camera to pick,
What else do we need for our trip?
Isn’t it a book for us to read?
To enjoy, to learn beyond the words
[...] Read more
poem by Meggie Gultiano
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