Family Today
Tele vison...
Tele phone...
Cell phone...
Fridge...
Radio...
Computer ...
Internet...
car...
Scouter...
Bycycle...
Keboad...
Washing mechine...
Dining table...
Sitting table...
Bed...
Dog...
Cat...
Toy s...
Colour fishes...
Books....
Hot drinks...
Dubule bed rooms
One atach bath room
Home...
.........with
......... .with
...........with
My father and mother
My only one wife...
My only two children...
It is for every human family today
Don't loug...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Related quotes
I wanted to feel that precision and control and then try to apply it to tele. That's what I've looked for in my gear development through the years, and today, tele is very precise, very high-performance.
quote by Paul Parker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Need A Doctor
In the morning
Radio jingles
Drive me mental
Turning my blood into water (yeah)
Hear the shallow -
Conversation
From the station
Sugar cube a generation (yeah!)
But aah would you take me home?
Aah - would you know what to do -
When we got there?
Aah - may I use your phone?
I need my mother!
(so) educate me
Radio ego
I will follow
But what will I find tomorrow (well? )
But aah would you take me home
Aah to the little white hospital -
In my head
Aah - may I use your phone
I need my mother? !
But aah would you take me home
Aah would you know what to do -
When we got there?
Aah - may I use your phone
I need a doctor!
song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cell Phone Mania
Cell phones to the right,
Cell phones to the left,
Cell phones, cell phones,
everywhere I look.
Red alert, stop! Listen,
shut up and drive,
shut up and read,
Cell phones, why so many.
Everyone talking,
cell phones in cars,
cell phones in bars,
eating places, cell phones.
There you can't escape
from them, you say
to yourself, the restroom,
no one would dare
use cell phone in there,
oh no, I hear someone,
talking to me, I answer them,
oh, sorry sir, did not know you
were on cell phone.
Oh, so many,
shut up, and walk.
Do away with cell phones,
and it would be like,
the crash of '29'.
People need cell phones,
sometimes their nice,
to have, but so many,
cell phones, might
as well join them
if you can't lick 'em,
join them.
Cell phone, cell phone
now how do I use this
thing, oh cell phone, cell phone,
Hello, Hello, oh that's
you mert.
wrote 1-19-07
The Poet As Mere Spectator
and so there was this child
left by the mother who was washing
her body in another
room
the child crawls and walks its
way finally
to the dining table
and pulls the table cloth
where a cup of hot coffee
is put
hot coffee is poured on its face
and the baby screams
and screams and screams
at the top of his voice
i hear it but what can i do
i am the poet
and you give me this job of
a mere spectator
next time, tell me, i am more than that
i can be superman
to that child
only if you ask.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Answer Is What
wear is sex...
in internet..
in books...
in tele vision...
in movies...
in wear is is sex...?
this is
laksh dolar question...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Electro child
Cry cry
Cry...
The cell phone
On my hand
With my lovengely child...
Yes...
Todays electro child is
Cell phone...
Cry with
Male+ female
Married+ un married
All hands cry cry
The cell phone child
Today....?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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To The Full Time Student In The College Of Law...
as you were taking the midterm examination
on double jeopardy and
search and seizures i was looking at you
closely,
you are so lucky to have with you
supportive parents, friends,
you have all the recent books, the
latest car, the personal computer
the laptop that you carry,
the complicated cell phone
then you were swinging your head
rolling your eyes and scratching your head
on such a hard examination as you claim it to be
beside you is Dan, working student,
poor family, dead father, mother is a plain housewife,
and why on earth is he doing well
in fact, excelling in this endeavor....
such an irony, but i am not surprised
i've been there.
seeing myself in Dan.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The maid-servant
My poverty made me fall in love with a good maid-servant
I wanted to marry her but my family didn't grant
They separated us and confined me in a room
But still she wanted me as her beloved bridegroom
I had neither cell phone nor internet
I was unemployed and like a poor pet
One day she said to them I called her over phone
That made me annoyed and made me like a stone
She told them the lie to make them realize
She is my love she is apple of my eyes
Then my dad beat me up with his slipper
But still I dream of her as my lover
poem by Asif Andalib
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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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Family Homes
everybody's mother is beautiful and brave
but my mother was little bit different
And was at the top of them
she was the bravest...the most beautiful..and the cleverest
we lived in a house
a very very ancient an and old house
ı ts plaster worn out and falling down
once a big and beautiful of our nomad ancestors
the camels of the long caravans used to rest in its garden
now the rooms of the house is rented to families in poverty
the kitchen...and laundry and washing were common for all
there was a in wall cupboard for bath in every room
in one of this rooms upstairs we lived
my mother..my brother and me
hiring it
they called these rooms faqmiliy homes
in turkish
in our homeland in turkey
in one of these rooms
lived shoe maker...rather a cobbler
with his son..daughter and wife
they were our beloved neighbours
he own the the room from his ancestors
the cobbler loved hunting
and had a peculı ar political opinion of his own
at downstairs
ther was a workman
came from his village
a very poor family indeed
wherever he found he worked
if he could
my mother used to help the family
she was found of this very very
one day ı heard the family went to germany
for food and living
my brother and me
were attending to a boarding school in istanbul
we used to come to our family home
in summer vacations
we were very happy in yhose days
with our room neighbours
my brother me and my mother
but theese poor happy did not last long
we grew up
my brother an archaeology professor
me a district governor
but we have never forgotten
those family houses
and the friendship and solı darı ty in them
we remember
those family houses from time to time
they are demolished now
high buildings are erected in their places
and my mother gone heaven in 14th dec ember 1994
her grave near a cross road waiting
ı always pray for her
ı feel she is always near me..guarding me
she was the bravest...most beauı tiful and the cleverest
ı have ever seen
life is not an easy plaything
poem by Metin Sahin
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Workahol
Taking a bottle of work to work
In the desk, the file, the flask
Tucked inside the third piece of
A suit not suited to public
View, then stop at the store
To pick up more, work to
Put on the table, after dinner
Nightcap laptop under the
Covers, or a cell phone in the
Bath, working hard to make it all
Work, house car wife kids
Bigger and faster, sexier smarter
A skid row of home-ly places
Just south of Easy Street
A mile from the nearest
Mission.
(Previously published in 12 Gauge Review, Nov 2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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A human body
Your
Head is not head
A computer...
Your
Eye is not eye
A camera...
Your
Ear is not ear
A cell phone...
Your
Mouth is not mouth
A wet grinder...
Your
Nose is not nose
A window...
Your
Stomach is not stomach
A Hotel...
Your
Hands is not hands
A wonder tool...
Your
Legs is not legs
A bycycle...
Your
Heart is not heart
A Rose...
With love...
With out love
A pump...
It is all
Your and your's of
Human body....
Simple Example...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Sorry, Wrong Number
Those handy little Cell phones have changed
They do things now that can enthrall.
They play music, games and take pictures too
They can even make a phone call.
And if voice mail is not enough
You can type a text that‘s wordy
By using the little keyboard
That’s much too small but QWERTY.
With all of the things Cell phones can do
There’s just one thing I am berating.
It is what this little device has done,
For the wonderful word of dating.
When on a first time dinner date
And her Cell phone rings
It can be a harbinger
Of what the future brings.
Depending on her reaction
You’ll soon find out your fate.
Whether it will be an early evening
Or you’ll be getting home very late.
This is a human application
That can cause one to burn.
But, better than going to the ladies room
With her never to return.
poem by Edward Iacona
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When the cell phone was born
Something happens
When the cell phone was born
Beyond sex and gender
Beyond race and religion
Beyond economic status
Each hand holds
This thing
And says
hi!
Hello, how are you doing?
To every extreme end
Of this world
From the north to the South Pole
Passing by the equator
The world now is
Too small
Too near
Your cell phone is ringing
Then,
This internet thing…..
Write it.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Phone (Like Him)
the sick old man
in the apartment cold and bare,
raises the gun to his head:
'God forgive me for what i do...'
a cut off notice from the electric company,
unopened on the table,
an eviction notice hanging
on the door...
his son's phone number by the phone,
but the phone, like him,
is dead!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A dog with phone
Cell phone
Calling
At my home...
Click to
Speak my dog...
I am asking for dog
How r u?
My dog say
Waa...!
you eat well?
Wooo...
You sleep well?
Wow...wowwww...
Ok... good night my sweety...!
Waaa...dog say to
Cut the cell phone...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Should Have Known Better
I sit in my flat watch the late night news
bout troubles with turks and troubles with jews
Gallons of beer stream into my mouth
Theyve shot a prime minister
Somewhere down south
Murder in the east and murder in the west
The girl on page 3 got an oversized chest
Germanys united and fergis got a new dress
And the man in the tele says its blue
I should have known better
But no one told me
I should have known better
But no one told me
Im not interested in the political scenes
Just when they raise my taxes
Cause I know what it means
But how can they say that theres
Not enough to eat
Look in my fridge its filled with meat
Cut the womens liberation
Cut the womens education
One iron lady was enough for this nation
Might be that I dont know what Im saying here
But Im just interested in tele and beer
I should have known better
But no one told me
I should have known better
But no one told me
I want it all
I want it now
I want it all
I want it now
I should have known better...
song performed by by Fury In The Slaughterhouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was very happy sitting alone at a dining room table, writing a script.
quote by Conrad Hall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The dining room in my old house was truly magnificent, but by far the worst room for conversation. I'd get up from the table, a very long table, and somebody would always say, Paul, I never got to talk to you.
quote by Paul Lynde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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