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031310 That's Lo-jack Too

on the other side is a blockbuster movie
at this time of afternoon line could be long
some smart guys from somewhere change
that tone, you can rent movie for dollar a day
swipe your card pick whatever you want to see
to return is just easy, deal with machine not lady

i'm waiting for my card embedded in my thumb
so i won't carry id's, credit card nor driver's license
key to my car and house just press 'em, you pass
they have to cut it out from me, wait they can hack
hat would be painful, i can't imagine it could have
another smart guy would come around thumb decipher

but then they know where i would be, that's lo-jack too
even my boss know i'm not at work, where i should be
they will have self locking turn-styles, until police will arrive
they can deactivate you so you can't start your car
hmmm... i have no more life of my own, i rather be free
carry all those cards, keys and whatever i wanted to be

poem by Manonton Dalan
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I'm Tired Of Ageing Politicians

I'm tired of ageing Politicians talking of war
Young soldiers risk their lives for them in Countries afar
And yet they seem to get re-elected when the voters have their say
They play their patriotic card and for them that does pay.

Their war card is their winning card they talk of us and they
And they send young people to fight for them in Countries far away
Not for any moral principle but for their own self interest
War helps them for to cling to power and seems to serve them best.

I'm tired of ageing Politicians who wage war in God's name
Who send others to kill and maim for them in their quest for immortal fame
The winners only write the war history and that's how 'twill always be
Yet the cost in the loss of Human life is huge for every war victory.

I'm tired of ageing Politicians who at the least excuse
Send their war planes off to distant Lands to set terror on the loose
For every death they may boast of another terrorist they create
They talk of peace through the gun barrel and they only give us hate.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Hope

The spirit killeth, but the letter giveth life.
The week is dealt out like a hand
That children pick up card by card.
One keeps getting the same hand.
One keeps getting the same card.
But twice a day -- except on Saturday --
The wheel stops, there is a crack in Time:
With a hiss of soles, a rattle of tin,
My own gray Daemon pauses on the stair,
My own bald Fortune lifts me by the hair.
Woe's me! woe's me! In Folly's mailbox
Still laughs the postcard, Hope:
Your uncle in Australia
Has died and you are Pope,
For many a soul has entertained
A Mailman unawares --
And as you cry, Impossible,
A step is on the stairs.
One keeps getting the same dream
Delayed, marked "Payment Due,"

[...] Read more

poem by Randall Jarrell
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If You Forget Me

If you forget me

Who ever you are?

It will mean nothing to me

Who will go on living

Having forgotten the purpose

To a life

That drags heavy footed

Through grey streets

If you forget me

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poem by Yvette Smith
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My Ace Of Such A Black Heart(Revised In Line Form)

Dear you know who.
I'm writing again.
For better or worse.
My card has been played.
Its my ace of such a black heart.
Forgive me for I don't look my best.
I've been through some stress.
Its what I use when I need to confess.
Its what, its what I use when I'm abused, confused.
No matter how much you hurt me I'll never lose.
For my mind is mine.
Rain or shine, everything will be fine.
But I must go I'm running out of time.

Dear you know who.
I'm writing again.
For better or worse.
My card has been played.
Its my ace of such black heart.
It never sways. No matter, how many hip hip hoorays.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Mary to merry

Mary is going to marry', said friend,
May be in days but not in weeks,
'what! I shouted back with anger,
yes, my dear, make no wonder,

Story as such never you carry,
Simple not but still I feel worry,
No word even to feel so sorry,
Why Mary thought? Just to marry,

'Was I not her so close friend? '
She Left no way for me to mend,
I thought hurriedly and put message
Will she buckle and come up with new page?

Friend put a card in the table and ran away,
Wedding card just lay in small tray,
I thought "Was there left no other way? "
Annul the marriage and keep at bay?

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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Deepest Depression (revised)

Staring at the walls...at the pictures that hang there
each photo...of it all
each step of our relationship..that started, with lust, wanting and care
the last picture that is hung
showing the ultimate happiness, of us being in love
I GET THE DEEPEST DEPRESSION
just staring at these things...
the photos on the wall
and the finger that holds my engagement ring

looking around the room, looking at it all
now just filled with dread, n, doom
the dieing roses in the crystal vase
marks the symbol..of the day
when it all was lost, n, went away
the photo album that we made
starts with the pictures of our 1st date, where it started
the last picture is of us, in love
3 days, b4 love was departed
is of the day you proposed, look at it, we are so in love

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poem by Krissi B'williams
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Jacta Alea Est

JACTA ALEA EST

One world penetrates another:
roleplay cad-I-lack, Rolls, turn into casino.

One stage upstages another:
dice roll at sixes and sevens.

One wish collides with another,
shuffled hands wrung sans sleight of hand.

One ball follows another reel
steals into black hole, alack
sees red upon green baize.

One card hides behind another
where kings and queens signify nothing.

One [s]take's raised: another
ace outbluffs poker face buff.

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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Why it’s so only to me?

Why it’s so only to me

I was getting ready
To go to office
Dressed up
Reached dining table
For breakfast

I heard my wife
“The milk got spoilt
The bread got charred
Why it’s so only to me? ”
You were telling something

I asked my wife
“Just thinking something”
She said, making me realize
That I am now blessed
With the power of
Hearing what others think

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poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Toxic Assets

'I have to go to town, ' she said,
'We'll catch the early bus.'
She'd overdrawn her credit card,
I knew - she always does!

I groaned and then I moaned a bit,
I'm just a country clod,
'I hate the crowds in town, ' I said,
'I'll stay here, on my tod! '

'You'll come with me, ' she said again
And used that piercing look,
The one that gets her everything
She wants, by hook or crook.

So there I was, adrift in town
While she went to the Bank,
To sort out her finances with
Some guy she knew as Frank.

[...] Read more

poem by David Lewis Paget
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