The white girl
I fill my blue motorbike
at the garage
and the smell of fuel
is strong in the air.
The early morning sun
hangs bright in the sky
and already it’s a hot day.
I go to the shop
to buy a can of Coke
and get caught
in the middle of a fight
of a white girl
with the black cashier
and she tries to draw me
into her argument.
She’s beautiful and spoiled
and shouts and slams her fists down
on the counter
and in a temper tantrum
grabs the card reading machine
and throws it on the ground
and there’s hatred in her eyes
and her words lack respect
and any dignity.
I see how the machine
breaks into bits
and paper rolling
down an aisle
and time freezes
into parts of reality
and I have no cash on me.
Suddenly I am dismayed
at being of the same race
and culture and nationality
as that spoiled grown up child.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
How far to the next garage
Just as I stopped at a garage today
the car’s engine died,
as it was running
with the yellow light burning
and the last gasoline was gone.
I had no cash on me
and there was no card machine
and the auto bank
at the shop was broken
and I was told,
about an auto bank at the next garage.
I started walking
and found a black man
along the way.
How far to the next
garage I asked
and he replied,
just on the other side
of the bridge.
On the other side
of the bridge,
there was one more bridge
and on the other side
of it,
no garage could be seen
for two kilometres or more.
So I wondered while I walked along
with a plastic can in my hand
that if he really didn’t know
why did he lie,
or was the man
too afraid to be seen
as a fool
while the biggest fool
was I?
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Woman Machine
She'll do your work in half the time
Never sick and can't go blind
Oh, woman machine
Brains of tape that fill her head
She knows more now than all the dead
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Heart of steel and skin that's cold
Can't wear her out, she can't grow old
Oh, woman machine
She goes to bed when her work is through
She'll do it all, just change the tubes
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine-ine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman
She can't talk back
With no playback
But she'll listen
To all your woe
Trade your old one
For a new one
They just don't make 'em like they used to
No!
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
Oh, woman machine
''...exceeds one million when the stop button is pressed,
the... has results PCR621, into the drayer reading pool
to hold the relay on for one quarter second after the
Q603 deenergizes. Therefore, the time delay occurs only
when the stop button is pressed, during the record nine.
The sole function of the capacitor c620 is to maintain
charge in
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rolling On Meanders
Rolling Chikhwawa a basket of water
Down the course to the plain
Stood still and threw a steam boat in water
Rolling on meanders slovenly by gears drain
Breaks, a bucket of them
Rolling and boring on tires
To and fro in white and black
In records absorbing and dissolving
Rolling and rolling, zigzag down fight
Zigzag up and groaning
Thus it spoiled
And grabbed the plain
And summit again in lights
poem by Paul Mwenelupembe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tin Machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Take me anywhere
Somewhere without alcohol
Or goons with muddy hair
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
The zombies that I pass
The guy that beats his baby up
The preachers and their past
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Baby doll
Baby doll
Clarity and prayer
Theres more than money moving here
Theres mindless maggot glare
Working horrors-humping tories
Spittle on their chins
Carving up my childrens future
Read em pal and grin
Raging raging raging
Burning in my room
Cmon and get a good idea
Cmon and get it soon
Im waiting on the fire escape
Im not exactly well
Im neither red nor black nor white
Im grey and blown to hell
Tin machine
Tin machine
Make some new computer thing
That puts me on the moon
Not this psycho-time-bomb planet
Poised to meet its maker
Shake a leg
Tin machine
Tin machine
One sick deathless duty to remain endangered species
They reach right out to touch someone
Then wash their crusty hands
Tin machine
Tin machine
Baby doll
Baby doll
Blue suede tuneless wonders
Mass confusion-faithless blues
Night that spews out watchmen
Mopping up another fortune
Fractured words and branca-sonic
Anger trapped behind locked doors
And right between the eyes
Raging raging raging
Burning in my room
Cmon and get a good idea
Cmon and get it soon
Im waiting on the fire escape
Im not exactly well
Im neither red nor black nor white
Im grey and blown to hell
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Tin machine
Take me anywhere
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whispers From Bones
THE WAR MACHINE
IS QUITE OBSCENE
THE WAR MACHINE
IS QUITE UNCLEAN
BUT
THE WAR MACHINE
WILL NOT STOP
BECAUSE
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST BE FED
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST HAVE BLOOD
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST HAVE DEATH
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST HAVE LIFE
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST HAVE STRIFE
THE WAR MACHINE
MUST BE FED
THE WAR MACHINE
LOVES THE DEAD
THE WAR MACHINE
WILL NOT STOP
BECAUSE
THE WAR MACHINE
IS ANGRY MAN.
poem by M.L. Squier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The City Of London
Introduction:
I wrote this in the middle of the night, many years ago.
My mind went back to when I was a little girl
and my brother and I went to visit my Grandfather.
We stopped that day to walk through the City, there was a mist that morning and a fine rain, the sort that makes your hair frizz.
The tranquillity of the early morning streets was rudely broken
by people coming into the City to work and so here is my memory:
----
Early morning after a thunderous night
I can breathe easy.
If I'm quiet I may hear the sound of birdsong.
Sometimes there is a mist.
It hangs over London like a veil.
Soon dawn's empty streets
will heave with massing crowds.
but until then all London is at peace.
The gentle tinkling of milk bottles
breaks the quiet
and the smell of bacon and fried bread
waft through the chill morning air.
Sounds of sirens fill my head and
concrete rises heavenward, filling my eyes,
crushing their foundations through my soul.
A sickness seeps through me,
everything beautiful is gone.
'Morning paper, read all about it! '
Girls hurry buy in tight blue jeans,
men in suits, some in Mac's,
high-heeled ladies, clicky, click, clack.
Poor old tramp, fingernails black,
stirs on the floor beside a closed door,
‘Got the price of a cuppa luv', he calls.
The girl quickens her pace.
A couple kiss in tender bliss
A young man sighs, a baby cries,
an old lady dies on the streets of London.
Early morning after a thunderous night
you can breathe easy.
You may hear the sound of birdsong
Sometimes there is a mist.
It hangs over London like a veil
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hand Springs
I took my girl to go bowling downtown at the Red Door
After an argument I started because i thought she didn't like me anymore
I can't help it, sometimes I feel pitiful
And of course, she's so young and beautiful.
I bought us two glasses of Coke
That's her favorite and I wanted to make up for earlier
But I dropped her glass and it broke
So I just gave my glass to her.
She laughed and so did I, in our lane
Then she went to the vending machine to buy a candy cane.
But right next to that was a boy I knew with a spring in his hand
Playing a country pinball machine called
song performed by by White Stripes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just A Machine
It’s just a machine,
Just a machine.
Four wheels that travel from A to B.
Why worship this idol that you see,
That’s pretty silly, don’t you agree.
It’s just a machine,
Just a machine.
Costing a fortune, must keep its shine.
Had to have it, this knockout design.
Thought it simply something so divine.
It’s just a machine,
Just a machine.
Depreciates in so quick a time.
Won’t last long, rusty, bang goes its prime.
It certainly won’t be worth a dime.
It’s just a machine,
Just a machine.
A car that travels from A to B.
Not an icon, no god this taxi,
Merely moulded plastic, with a key.
It’s just a machine,
Just a machine.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spoiled Girl
(simon/kunkel/payne)
When you got a pretty boy
You want a smart one
When you got a smart one
You want him pretty
When you got one whos all over you
You wish hed hold back
Then when hes being cool
You want him to attack
Spoiled girl, living in her own world
Spoiled girl, thinks of nothing but herself
Someones there to cut her hair
Will you wear it up or down
What, no bubbles for the bath?
Send the chauffeur into town
Youll have fun tonight
Now youre gonna call him up
hi? you say Ill call you back?
He waits and waits but no such luck
Spoiled girl, living in her own world
Spoiled girl, thinks of nothing but herself
When you want her, you cant have her
When you need her you cant find her
She is busy keeping dizzy with the business of a little
Spoiled girl, living in her own world
Spoiled girl, thinks of nothing but herself
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Long Journey
Motorcycling along
the N1 freeway
from Pretoria in the north to Cape Town
the flaming sun rises over the horizon
small like a ripe apricot
while its dimensions gets larger
and then tomato red
a little later it turns orange and like a ripe fruit
hangs untouchable up on the sky
and corn fields, fences and trees
fly past almost blurring
in the twilight sketched like pencil drawings
and the sun like a huge pit being spitted
crosses the sky
changes to yellow and then to white hot
and the sky turns from dusk grey
to bright blue
and later to a darker hue
and the hot wind bristles
as if with loving fingers
touching and stroking your whole body
and in the early fresh morning
you draw in at a garage,
make a pit stop, to check the oil,
to fill your motorcycle up
and have a breakfast
at a Wimpy roadhouse
and the smell of fuel
hangs in the air
and you find children there
looking with huge curious eyes
at your motorbike
and gazing at you,
as if a hero character
has just walk right out
of a cartoon magazine
and you remove your helmet
take off your leather gloves
visit the loo where a guy or two
looks at you and comments
on your motorcycle, your leather jacket
the weather and the road
and in the restaurant
the waitress pours a Mega coffee,
smiles dazzling
when she puts it on the table
with your breakfast of steak,
French fries and coke
and you can swear
that there’s a twinkling in her eyes
before she walks away
with a French plate swishing to and thro
and buttocks leaving a distinct impression
of female grace
but the sun is drawing water
and time is flying,
you motorcycle thunders alive
and you return to the freeway
where at speed you pass
cars, greyhound busses and trucks
and the road feels almost without end
right through the flat Orange Free State,
later the acrid hell hot Karroo
where you see grazing flocks of sheep
like white specks
and some windmills
flashing and reflecting the sun
on their huge spinning blades
somewhat like lonely landmarks
and you make some more pit stops
to refuel and stretch your legs
have another meal
and just before driving through
the last tunnel on top of a hill
dusk envolopes the world, the sun dwindles away,
the evening star is just above the horizon
and a little later star after star flies pass
like leaves in autumn falling from a tree
and you are free, almost at the end
of your journey
or maybe you are always just passing by,
travelling to a new destination
with the wind, the sun and sky
and some people that you meet on the trip
and sometimes you go very fast,
at other times almost creeping slow
until suddenly destiny causes the journey to end.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do Ya Feel
Joan speaks French, not a word is said
For those who set sail on her waterbed
It's a fetish cruise, our pleasure to
Hmm do business with you
Do ya feel like taking 'em down
Do ya feel like taking 'em down
Love and hope, trust and faith
After prayer, it's back to Alice's place
Peaches and cream, angel food
If you can't get up then just get rude
Do ya feel like taking 'em down
Do ya feel like taking 'em down
Fight it all you want it's a love machine
Fight it all you want it's a love machine
Fight it all you want it's a love machine
Fight it all you want it's a love machine
Jean's well aware that time's no friend
Gravity's calling, the party will end
But until it does, love's for lunch
Half the world blows and half the world sucks
Do ya feel like taking 'em down
Do ya feel like taking 'em down
Fight it all you want it's a love machine
Fight it all you want it's a love machine
Fight it all you want it's a love machine
Fight it all you want it's a love machine
song performed by by Right Said Fred
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Machine
Im not a machine... (echos)
Verse 1:
Tell me can I live my life
Doing what I feel is right
I dont need you to hold my hand
The last time I checked I was a grown man
I got my own opinion and I know whats best for me
I do what I want when I want and thats how its gotta be
Chorus:
Im not a machine no you cant control me
Dont just think you can turn me on and off as you please
Im not a machine youre making me overheat
Love me for who I am not who you want me to be
Im not a machine
Verse 2:
Tell me can I do my thing
Without you calling my name
Asking me where Im going, where Ive been
When Im leaving, why I came
Cant chose my own clothes go where I wanna go
Im not a toy for you to command Im not under your control
Girl why cant we just live equally oh girl it would be so nice
Instead of you giving an attitude and trying to run my life
Chorus:
Im not a machine no you cant control me
Dont just think you can turn me on and off as you please
Im not a machine youre making me overheat
Love me for who I am not who you want me to be
Im not a machine
Oh...yeah...
Im not a machine, oh....
Yeah
Chorus:
Im not a machine no you cant control me
Dont just think you can turn me on and off as you please
Im not a machine youre making me overheat (whoa)
Love me for who I am not who you want me to be (want me to be)
Im not a machine
Im not a machine no you cant control me
Dont just think you can turn me on and off as you please
Im not a machine youre making me overheat
Love me for who I am not who you want me to be
Im not a machine
Im not a machine (echos to end)
song performed by by Youngstown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Machine (original Version)
It's so quiet and dark
And I shouldn't be here
This machine won't last
For always
Just my steel friend and me
I stand brave by his side
This machine is all
I live for
I can see in your eyes
You're not so sure about me
This machine is my voice
Please listen
It's so noisy and bright
And I just love being here
This machine will last
For my life
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Machine
It's so quiet and dark
And i shouldn't be here
This machine won't last
For always
Just my steel friend and me
I stand brave by his side
This machine is all
I live for
I can see in your eyes
You're not so sure about me
This machine is my voice
Please listen
It's so noisy and bright
And i just love being here
This machine will last
For my life
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Steel & You
Its so quiet and dark
And I shouldnt be here
This machine wont last
For always
Just my steel friend and me
I stand brave by his side
This machine is all
I live for
I can see in your eyes
Youre not so sure about me
This machine is my voice
Please listen
Its so noisy and bright
And I just love being here
This machine will last
For my life
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Squeeze On Me (Fun Poem 48)
I had a machine on my arm
and every half hour
it put the squeeze on me.
The Doctor wanted
a twenty-four hour monitor
on my BP.
Not the fuel for my car,
but the fuel in my body
for me.
This machine had a mind
of its own,
if it didn’t like
the first reading it got,
it squeezed a bit harder
until it got a better result
just to show me
that at it disapproved,
the problem was
there was nothing I could do,
but just put up with it
putting the squeeze
on poor old me.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ginger cat (Villanelle)
I am a spoiled, lazy ginger cat
I am lying on the sofa all day long
And yes, i am a cat that is very fat
I am posh and proud to be your pet
I n your eyes i never do wrong
I am a spoiled, lazy ginger cat
I will not chase that dirty rat
I am OK, on the sofa is were i belong
And yes, i am a cat that is very fat
You can bash the rat with a bat
Cook him in a pot, feed him to Mr Chong
I am a spoiled, lazy ginger cat
Other cats see me and they frat
I am a top cat, i lead with a midnight song
And yes i am a cat that is very fat
I am that fat cat who sat on the mat
all morning, until you heard the gong
I am a spoiled, lazy ginger cat
And yes, i am a cat that is very fat
poem by Milica Franchi De Luri
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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World Machine
Some folks try
To multiply
From sunrise to sunset
Leave behind
More of their kind
So no one will forget
But that aint where Im coming from - today
Those easy girls dont turn me on - anyway
I wanna know where my pride has gone
The partys over
Caught in a dream
Inside this world machine
Teachers teach
And preachers preach
Of spiritual evolution
But this big I am
From uncle sham
Just adds to my confusion
Ive seen his face, Ive heard his song - before
But I dont care what time hes on - anymore
I must have been on the streets too long
The partys over
Caught in a dream
Inside this world machine
I find myself outside your door
Trying to make it like before
But you dont follow what I say
And I can tell by your smile
Youre no longer a child
That part of you was buried yesterday . . .
. . . who knows
Why they come and where they go
In this world machine?
Its the chosen fools
Who make the rules
That dont apply to me
With their fast-car games
And counter claims
Not my reality
And I dont know if I belong - today
I dont know why my friends have gone - away
I must have been on the streets too long
The partys over
Caught in a dream
Inside this world machine
(dont knock the system - well knock some sense in you
Dont beat the system - theres nothing you can do)
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Money Machine
When I was just a child
My life was, oh, so simple
And the ways of the great world
Seemed strange and funny
Then when I was a young man
I learned of that machine
That turns out all those bails of precious money
Now you can measure you manhood by it
You can get your children to try it
You can bring your enemies to their knees
With the possible exception of the north vietnamese
It takes a strong hit from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the world
Strong hit from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the world
General motors and ibm
Afl-cio and all the kings men
When I began the game
See me singing bout fire and rain
Let me just say it again
Ive seen fives and Ive seen tens
It was a strong hit from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the world
Strong hit from the money machine
Settle up top, on top of the world
(money, money, money)
(give me that dough)
(mine, mine, mine)
Been living in the lap of luxury too long
Please, mr. dj, wont you play my song
Maybe my baby will listen on the radio
Come back home to me
Help me spend my dough
I need a strong hit from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the goddamn world
I need a strong hit from the money machine
Strong hit from the money machine
Sitting on top, on top of the world
Money, money, money
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Custom Machine
Check my custom machine
Well shes metal flake blue with a corvette grill
(check my custom machine)
And they say it looks better when shes standin still
(check my custom machine)
When I step on the gas she goes wa aa aa
Ill let you look but dont touch my custom machine
Well with naugahyde bucket seats in front and back
(check my custom machine)
Everything is chrome, man, even my jack
(check my custom machine)
When I step on the gas she goes wa aa aa
Ill let you look but dont touch my custom machine
With stereophonic speaker set with fibrosonic sound
(check my custom machine)
Magnesium spokes, it stands an inch off the ground
(check my custom machine)
When I step on the gas she goes wa aa aa
Ill let you look but dont touch my custom machine
Oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oo
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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