I don't even know how to use a parking meter, let alone a phone box.
quote by Princess Diana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lovely Rita
Lovely rita meter maid.
Lovely rita meter maid.
Lovely rita meter maid.
Nothing can come between us,
When it gets dark i tow your heart away.
Standing by a parking meter,
When i caught a glimpse of rita,
Filling in a ticket in her little white book.
In a cap she looked much older,
And the bag across her shoulder
Made her look a little like a military man.
Lovely rita meter maid,
May i inquire discreetly,
When are you free,
To take some tea with me.
Took her out and tried to win her,
Had a laugh and over dinner,
Told her i would really like to see her again,
Got the bill and rita paid it,
Took her home i nearly made it,
Sitting on the sofa with a sister or two.
Oh, lovely rita meter maid,
Where would i be without you,
Give us a wink and make me think of you.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Parking Lot
Every means of transport
Needs a parking space
Airport, seaport
A parking lot
Each to mark
The journey's end
One behind the wheel
Is duty bound
World's a huge parking lot
People come and go.
poem by Tirupathi Chandrupatla
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Big Yellow Taxi
They paved paradise and put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique, and a swinging hot spot
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got till its gone
They paved paradise and put up a parking lot
Shoo-bop-bop-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop-bop
They took all the trees and put em in a tree museum
And then they charged all the poeple twenty-five bucks just to see em
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got till its gone
They paved paradise and put up a parking lot
Shoo-bop-bop-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop-bop
Hey farmer, farmer, put away your ddt now
Give me spots on my apples but leave me the birds and the bees, please
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got till its gone
They paved paradise and they put up a parking lot
I say, they paved paradise and they put up a parking lot
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got till its gone
They paved paradise and they put up a parking lot
Shoo-bop-bop-bop-bop
Late last night I heard the screen door slam
And a big yellow taxi carried off my old man
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got till its gone
They paved paradise and they put up a parking lot
Shoo-bop-bop-bop-bop
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got till its gone
They paved paradise and they put up a parking lot
Shoo-bop-bop-bop-bop
Oh, now, they paved paradise and they put up a parking lot
Shoo-bop-bop-bop-bop
Hey, steam rolled paradise and put up a parking lot
Shoo-bop-bop-bop-bop
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Shilling In The Meter (Fun Poem 76)
Quick
put a shilling in the meter
let the sun come out to play.
The sun being expensive
that shilling won’t last that long
and soon the rain will come back
and the sun will fade away.
I searched my pockets,
and hunted high and low
for another shilling for the meter,
but there wasn’t one there.
So we are stuck with rain
from Monday and Sunday now,
unless someone out there
has another shilling for the meter
somewhere.
28 April 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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CP- To Mader
So one night it was dark and I couldn’t see,
I picked up my phone no one to disagree.
I was in possession of a beautiful phone,
Even though the phone was of a girlie tone.
I started checking my message to find out,
That maybe this isn’t my phone – hmm doubt.
But could this be the phone of my eye candy,
Maybe she could be unmarried and change her name to Sandy.
Hmm the possibilities of the owner of the stolen phone,
Oh goodness maybe I should watch my tone.
I return the untouchable phone back to her,
“I thought it was my phone” I said in transfer.
Oh the purple phone that was like mine,
Oh purple phone oh purple phone I let out a sigh….
poem by Coreena Dejesus
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Praying For Help
she felt the baby move,
unconsciously dropped
her hand to her belly....
staring out the window
at the empty parking lot,
listening to the rain
a chair, a mattress,
an old table pushed back
against the paint peeling wall...
nothing to eat, no money,
he'd been gone for two weeks,
no phone calls, no one to call!
seventeen years old, and the
whole world crashing in....
two church ladies came by,
left her a New Testament,
and a couple of tracts...
and the law keeps circling
the parking lot each night;
roaches gather in the corner
praying for help!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Weeping Meter
If you're on a weeping meter,
You may need a boost.
You may need a boost.
You may need a boost.
If you're on a weeping meter,
You may need a boost.
You may need a boost.
You may need a boost.
The more you get some pity you sit and solicit it.
With a drive you started in campaign,
And aimed to have a perfect pity party trip.
You've got your buckets ready to collect the slightest drip.
Like an attention getting kitten,
Being petted as it purrs and licks!
That's what you need!
A boost to benefit.
Like the petting of a kitten getting enjoyment out of it.
To get a little bit of stroking before it leaves...
To meander off and drift.
Satisfied and pleased.
If you're on a weeping meter,
You may need a boost.
You may need a boost.
You may need a boost.
Maybe you just need some petting,
And some stroking too?
Oooo...
If you're on a weeping meter,
You may need a boost.
You may need a boost.
You may need a boost.
Maybe you just need some petting,
And some stroking too?
Oooo...
If you're on a weeping meter,
You may need a boost.
You may need a boost.
You may need a boost.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wilson and Broadway at 4 a.m.
Chicago
Sunday evening. Drunk
and strolling home.
On the way an hour now,
block after block,
bar to bar.
Weekend's gone,
Monday's turning.
Along the way
his swollen fingers find
parking meter posts
are an endless xylophone.
Plunked, they play
the anthem
of a life misspent.
poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Midnight Anthem
Chicago
Sunday evening. Drunk
and strolling home.
Roscoe's on his way,
block by block,
whistling as he goes
despite the lurching.
Weekend's gone,
Monday's turning.
Along the way
his fingers find
parking meter posts
are an endless xylophone
that only he can play
for all the world to hear
the midnight anthem
of a life misspent.
poem by Donal Mahoney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The 'Poem A Day' Project - Day 16
I’ve lost my mobile phone
I’m feeling all alone
I can’t connect with my friends out there
I’ve lost my mobile phone
I’ve lost my mobile phone
I miss its ringing tone
I’ve searched for it everywhere
I’ve lost my mobile phone
I’ve lost my mobile phone
And now I cannot roam
I must stay near in case it rings
I’ve lost my mobile phone
I’ve lost my mobile phone
I do not wish to moan
It has numbers, dates and all kinds of things
I’ve lost my mobile phone
I’ve lost my mobile phone
And now I guess I’m prone
To wander like a lost zombie
I’ve lost my mobile phone
I’ve lost my mobile phone
I’ve no mind of my own
Without it there to organise me
I’ve lost my mobile phone
poem by Flying Lemming
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Hate My Phone
Have you ever had a phone?
That you couldn’t stand?
If you have, you are not alone.
My phone doesn’t like to follow my command!
My phone hates me!
I hate it!
I would love to throw it in the sea,
But, my life would be gone I have to admit!
I hate my phone!
What can I do?
If only another one I could own.
Another phone I need, but it should be new.
If I get a new phone it will need,
A camera that pictures and video it takes,
Unlimited texting is what we agreed.
I have no time for mistakes!
Also, I would need free long distance,
In case there is someone I want to call that is not where I am,
No, I don’t need any assistance.
For my new phone, all I have to say is DANG!
My new phone will be the envy of everyone,
Everyone will want mine,
To bad that they don’t get it, I’m the only one,
There is no need to whine!
Go Ocean, Go Ocean, Go Ocean!
That’s what they’ll be saying!
I and my phone will be all the rage and commotion!
Everyone will be around me and no, nobody will be playing!
I hate my phone,
I need a new one,
I know I’m not alone,
To have the greatest and newest phone would be fun!
Go Ocean, Go Ocean, Go Ocean! ! ! !
I still hate my phone!
Ha, this poem is long because of a motion!
Ha, I got many problems, luckily I’m not alone!
I Hate My Phone! ! !
poem by Ocean Myranda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beautiful With Sadness
Dawn departures
In the rain,
Bus terminal kisses
For long journeys
With arrested love,
Delicate poetry crawls
Down along lonely and dirty avenues.
In afternoon restaurants,
We gather ourselves
Like parking meter coins
Or a waitress’ tips
And still come up short
With our meager ambitions.
At dusk,
A serenade from birds,
This life is beautiful with sadness.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Big Yellow Taxi
They paved paradise, they put up a parking lot
A pink hotel, a boutique and a swinging hot spot
Dont it always go to show
You never know what you got till its gone ?
They paved paradise, they put up a parking lot.
They took all the trees, they put them in a tree museum
They charged the people a dollar and a half just to see them
Dont it always go to show
You never know what you got till its gone ?
They paved paradise, they put up a parking lot.
Hey farmer, farmer, put away that d.d.t
Give me spots on my apples but leave me the birds and the bees, please,
Dont it always go to show
You never know what you got till its gone ?
They paved paradise, they put up a parking lot.
Late last night I heard my screen door slam
A big yellow buldozer took away the house and land
Dont it always go to show
You never know what you got till its gone ?
They paved paradise, they put up a parking lot.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Big Yellow Taxi
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
With a pink hotel, a boutique
And a swinging hot spot
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got
Till its gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
They took all the trees
Put em in a tree museum
And they charged the people
A dollar and a half just to see em
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got
Till its gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
Hey farmer farmer
Put away that d.d.t. now
Give me spots on my apples
But leave me the birds and the bees
Please!
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got
Till its gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
Late last night
I heard the screen door slam
And a big yellow taxi
Took away my old man
Dont it always seem to go
That you dont know what youve got
Till its gone
They paved paradise
And put up a parking lot
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shame More Than Fine Forbids
I shall park my car
In the non parking zone
And get fined rather than
Parking in someone’s place
And get insulted by him.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Mind Is In a Poetic Meter
Lit with verse and profound imaginings.
Clear of limits and in boundless flight.
My mind is in a poetic meter.
Fixed within rhythmic thoughts combined.
And racing to attach themselves to the proper lines.
Picked with a selected taste to find,
Just the right mixture to release at the right time.
To capture a comprehension that is mutually shared.
And creating an understanding that before was not there.
Until it was produce to seduce,
To make aware.
My mind is in a poetic meter.
Can you feel it?
My mind is in a poetic meter.
Can you feel it?
My mind is in a poetic meter.
Can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
My mind is in a poetic meter.
Lit with verse and profound imaginings.
Clear of limits and in boundless flight.
Can you feel it?
Can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Fixed within rhythmic thoughts combined.
And racing to attach themselves to the proper lines.
Can you feel it?
Can you feel it?
Can you feel it?
Can you feel it?
Can you feel it?
My mind is in a poetic meter.
Picked with a selected taste to find,
Just the right mixture to release at the right time.
To capture a comprehension that is mutually shared.
And creating an understanding that before was not there.
My mind is in a poetic meter.
Can you feel it?
My mind is in a poetic meter.
Can you feel it?
My mind is in a poetic meter.
Can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
Can you can you feel it?
My mind is in a poetic meter.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I don't believe in angels, no. But I do have a wee parking angel. It's on my dashboard and you wind it up. The wings flap and it's supposed to give you a parking space. It's worked so far.
quote by Billy Connolly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Neater meter for Mr Earley
Neater meter?
I have to write a sonnet in free verse.
I must stick to Iambic pentameter.
A meter that I do not often use.
Pentameter is my more usual style.
A Sapphic meter would be so much worse.
I am more comfortable with the latter.
I find that some odd metres can confuse
a simple rhymester like me for a while.
I’m quite convinced that pentameter
makes my presentations appear neater.
It may be that you think I am obtuse
and that my simple verses make you smile.
You are entitled to your point of view.
Naturally I won’t agree with you!
11-Apr-08
Free verse sonnet
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Had To Phone Ya
Had to phone ya
Had to phone ya just to talk to you
Had to phone ya just to tell ya I was missing you
It lifts my spirits every single time
Sometimes youre busy for awhile
But when you get through
It makes me smile
A-when I phone ya
Californias not so far away
Youre not alone ya know Im only just a dial away
I visualize that youre looking fine
Feels so good when you come on the line
You (you) you (you) you (you) you (you)
You (you) you (you) you (you) you (you)
You (you) you (you) you (you) you (you)
You (you) you (you) you (you)
Come on
Come on and answer the phone
Come on come on
(I hope your home)
Come on and answer the phone
Come on come on
(I hope your home)
Come on and answer the phone
Come on come on
(I hope your home)
Come on and answer the phone
Come on come on
(I hope your home)
Come on and answer the phone
Come on come on
(I hope your home)
Come on and answer the phone
Come on come on
(hello, hey brian!)
(I hope your home)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is the primary purpose of a political leader? To build a majority. If voters care about parking lots, then talk about parking lots.
quote by Newt Gingrich
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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