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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Road Block
Yeah!, all right!
Oh, ain't no problem
Carry no heavy load
Lord, no!
Why can't i love you, baby ?
You try to block my road.
You try to block my road. hey!
Oh, better off to hand you
Everything i own, ha ha ha ha!
Strange to see you waiting for me,
You try to block my road, yeah yeah,
Try to block my road
Hey, hey, hey, hey.
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block daddy daddy daddy
Road block
Road block
Alright on the road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Yeah! road block
Road block, alright, alright, alright!
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Whoa road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Yeah!
Try to block my road, daddy daddy daddy
I said now every time i turn around
Why, try to block my road
Why did you try to hurt me try to block my road
I said all i ever wanted to do was try to block my road
N-now all i ever wanted to do was to love you try to block my road
Tell me, tell me, tell me try to block my road
Tell me, tell me, tell me now try to block my road
Waaah try to block my road
Waaah try to block my road
Try to block my road.
Ha ha!
Oh, ain't no problem
Carry no heavy load
Oh no, no!
Why can't i love you, baby ?
You try to block my road.
Hey hey, try to block my road,
Now now, try to block my road
Right, right, honey right now!
song performed by by Janis Joplin
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
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Only Those With The Key
The gate has been locked,
To block access...
To those once accustomed,
To free entry and free reign.
And this has been suggested...
Maybe one's own finding,
Of a home on the range...
Suitable for the deer and the antelope,
To play.
And any mumbling heard is one's own
The gate has been locked,
To block out the physical.
And that which appears limited.
But one 'spirited' in mind,
Can choose to look over the gate.
Or through its cracks.
Or...
Sit to wonder why THIS gate attracts.
And gates with locks that block,
To stop what's coming in...
Seem to imprison those behind them,
Rarely to come out to test the locks.
And only those with the key,
Know what it is used for.
AND...
Its history to be known or not!
Since whoever has got the key,
Needs not to peek or have interest in the doing.
Only those with the key to the gate that locks,
To block in or not to block out...
Do not concern themselves with peeking.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sunday Father
Hand in his hand though the park
All afternoon
A fine day to fly balloons or tell him a story
Hand in his hand to wonder
Till day is done
Sunday father and son
Sundays are theres to explore
Alone by law
One day to keep the two from turning to strangers
One day to know the answers
Be firm , be fun
Sunday father and son
The father weaves though the weekend streets
Sunday done, monday comin' on
He leaves the child by a modest home
That they share no more
With the woman who waits indoors
Till she knows he's gone
Where are the words or the games
A place to go
Someway to let him know you want to be with him
Somehow it's always ending
Just half begun
Sunday father and son
Sunday father and son
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Block It Out
All the hurt inside me
I just block it out
All those tears i need to cry
I just block them out
All those memories of past years
That would still make me cry
I never said goodbye
I'm scared that if i let them out
They'll never stop
I've got a reputation of being happy
Always on top
I can't let them down
Let them see me frown
I just block it out
I just block it out
poem by Lucy Vernezze
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Silent Weekend
by Bob Dylan
Silent weekend,
My baby she gave it to me
Silent weekend,
My baby she gave it to me.
She's actin' tough and hardy
She says it ain't my party
And she's leavin' me in misery.
Silent weekend,
My baby she took me by surprise.
Silent weekend,
My baby she took me by surprise.
She's rockin' and a-reelin'
Head up to ceiling
An' swinging with some other guys.
Silent weekend,
Oh Lord, I wish Monday would come.
Silent weekend,
Oh Lord, I sure wish Monday would come.
She's uppity, she's rollin',
She's in the groove, she's strolling
Over to the jukebox playin' deaf and dumb.
Well, I done a whole lotta thinkin' 'bout a whole lot of cheatin',
And I, maybe I did some just to please.
But I just walloped a lotta pizza after makin' our peace,
Puts ya down on bended knees.
Silent weekend,
Man alive, I'm burnin' up on my brain.
Silent weekend,
Man alive, I'm burnin' up on my brain.
She knows when I'm just teasin'
But it's not likely in the season
To open up a passenger train.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Footy Man
He wears his club scarf and beanie this cold saturday evening in the late Fall
As he walks from the train to the football oval for to watch a few hours of football
One might say a one eyed supporter he urges his footy heroes on
But he falls silent before the final siren when all hope of a victory seems gone.
In the work canteen on monday morning his workmates at him will have a go
And tease him of how his team lost on the weekend that they were too clumsy and slow
For much livelier and classier opponents though such banter he does not take to heart
One must take the good with the bad days of living and life it's all part
His passion in life is his Football Club a sports minded fellow is Stan
His favourite song is his Club anthem his nickname is the Footy Man
He always wears his club scarf and beanie and he looks forward to next weekend's game
And when his team loses by a narrow margin the umpires he always will blame.
He is happy when his team is winning the smile of joy is on his face
But on the monday after a loss he must put up with his workmates teasing him in the Workplace
But that is all part of life and living we win and we lose every day
But to next weekend he looks forward to when again he will watch his team play.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Monday Then Sunday
It’s Monday, then Sunday in front of my eyes.
It seems like the calendar’s telling me lies.
Before I can live Tuesday, the weekend is here
With another Monday drawing ever so near.
Soon it’s Wednesday, then Friday. Another week’s gone.
Then a month falls in battle as time surges on.
This is a war that I know I can’t win,
So I’ll just pause and not fight this moment I’m in.
I’ll make the most of this day through happiness or sorrow,
Since the next day … one day … I won’t have a tomorrow.
No matter Sunday, Monday or what day of the week,
A loving, full fun day is all that I seek.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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A Stroll Home
A Stroll Home
It’s time for the night to lay,
It’s darkness upon the day.
Strolling home alone, again.
All the stores have closed,
An empty city has exposed.
Strolling home alone, again.
Nobody around at all,
To watch the snowfall.
Strolling home alone, again.
When the sirens ring the silence does shatter,
All the Mexicans boys do scatter.
Strolling home alone, again.
With a heavy stink on my breath,
No hope and no money left.
Strolling home alone, again.
Listening to Shane cry,
I dream of a western sky.
Strolling home alone, again.
And when the sun begins to ascend,
My journey closes and comes to an end.
Strolling home alone, again.
poem by Peter Francis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Monday Monday
Monday, Monday
So good to me.
Monday, Monday
It was all I hoped it would be.
Oh Monday morning
Monday morning couldn't guarantee
That Monday evening
You would still be here with me.
Monday, Monday
Can't trust that day.
Monday, Monday
Sometimes it just turns out that way.
On Monday morning
You gave me no warning
Of what was to be.
On Monday, Monday
How could you leave
And not take me?
Every other day
Every other day
Every other day
Of the week is fine, yeah.
But whenever Monday comes
But whenever Monday comes
You can find me crying
All of the time.
Monday, Monday
So good to me.
Monday, Monday
It was all I hoped it would be.
Oh Monday morning,
Monday morning couldn't guarantee
That Monday evening
You would still be here with me.
Every other day
Every other day
Every other day
Of the week is fine, yeah.
But whenever Monday comes
But whenever Monday comes
You can find me crying
All of the time.
Monday, Monday,
Can't trust that day.
Monday, Monday,
Just turns out that way.
Oh, Monday, Monday,
Don't go away.
Oh, Monday, Monday
It's here to stay
Monday, Monday
Oh, don't go away
song performed by by Wilson Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blocked
Stuck again
The block is back
Stopping the flow of imagination
And ideas
“The writers block”
Solid and thick as lead
Heavy as a planet
Just landed and is up to its old tricks
My thoughts crash into it and can’t be set free
Why now, when it is crucial must you block me
Come back in an hour or two
You’ll be appreciated more then
These stories are good
The poems aren’t dead
Come on you must see them inside my head
You’re making my pen run out of ink
Having to cross out thoughts and feelings on this page
I guess I’ ll be stuck with the block until it leaves
Chuckling with glee
Knowing I couldn’t finish the work in time
That was supposed to be about me
Written: November 18,2010
poem by Ryan Collins
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We were in the heart of the ghetto in Chicago during the Depression, and every block - it was probably the biggest black ghetto in America - every block also is the spawning ground practically for every gangster, black and white, in America too.
quote by Quincy Jones
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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A Parents Pain
Have you thought about the pain that a parent goes through
When they find out that their child has been kidnapped and abused.
(this is just a story)
She was coming home from school that day
When her life was taken away.
A child predator on the prowl
Waiting to take someone down.
She lived only a block away
When she became the predators prey.
He grabbed her so fast -she could not scream
And since that day she hadn’t been seen.
The search began block to block
The publics outrage would not stop.
They found her body in an alleyway
By some children who went out to play.
The parents screams filled the air
As their eyes began to tear.
The hatred of what this man had done
Filled the hearts of everyone.
As their daughter was put in the ground
This child predator the police had found.
But there is nothing that could take away the pain
For their lives would forever change.
The photographs and memories of when she was growing.
These are the things that this man had stolen.
No more pictures that they could take
For it was now, much too late.
The pains of the parents have got to be heard
And it’s time to spread the word.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Laundromat Monday
Monday
Laundromat monday
Monday
Laundromat monday
I want my mother, someone to cook for me
Each day another, take out no msg
Im gonna change the world, but not today
Think Ill just go get drunk down on avenue a
Monday
Laundromat monday
Monday
Laundromat monday
I want a french maid, someone to wash my jeans
Each quarter Ive made is lost in washing machines
Im gonna change the world, I could be president
If I could just work out where all my mondays went
Monday
Laundromat monday
Monday
Laundromat monday
Monday
Laundromat monday
Monday
Laundromat monday
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When you play guard, you're not going to block a lot of shots. Inside, you're going to block shots.
quote by Oscar Robertson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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with God as my Ally
with GOD as my sole ally
in this quest for the
poems of my life
his voice speaking
in the ears of
my heart,
i have never been
to that
writers' block.
do you know where
that block is?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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License To Kill
Man thinks 'cause he rules the earth he can do with it as he please
And if things don't change soon, he will.
'Cause man has invented his doom,
The first step was touching the moon.
Now, there's a woman on my block,
She just sits there as the night gets still.
She says who will take away his license to kill?
Now, they take him and they teach him and they groom him for life
And they set him on a path where he's bound to get ill,
And they bury him with stars,
Sell his body like they do used cars.
But there's a woman on my block,
She just sits there facin' the hill.
She says who will take away his license to kill?
Now, he's hell-bent for destruction, he's afraid and confused,
And his brain has been mismanaged with great skill.
Until all he believes are his eyes
And his eyes just tell him lies.
But there's a woman on my block,
Sitting there in a cold chill.
She says who will take away his license to kill?
Now he worships at an altar of a stagnant pool
And when he sees his reflection, he's fulfilled.
Oh, man wants it all his own way,
And he is opposed to fair play.
But there's a woman on my block,
She just sits there as the night grows still.
She say who will take away his license to kill?
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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License To Kill
Man thinks 'cause he rules the earth he can do with it as he please
And if things don't change soon, he will.
'Cause man has invented his doom,
The first step was touching the moon.
Now, there's a woman on my block,
She just sits there as the night gets still.
She says who will take away his license to kill?
Now, they take him and they teach him and they groom him for life
And they set him on a path where he's bound to get ill,
And they bury him with stars,
Sell his body like they do used cars.
But there's a woman on my block,
She just sits there facin' the hill.
She says who will take away his license to kill?
Now, he's hell-bent for destruction, he's afraid and confused,
And his brain has been mismanaged with great skill.
Until all he believes are his eyes
And his eyes just tell him lies.
But there's a woman on my block,
Sitting there in a cold chill.
She says who will take away his license to kill?
Now he worships at an altar of a stagnant pool
And when he sees his reflection, he's fulfilled.
Oh, man wants it all his own way,
And he is opposed to fair play.
But there's a woman on my block,
She just sits there as the night grows still.
She say who will take away his license to kill?
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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