Luring Websites!
I'm a reserved man.
When I was in service,
my subordinates wouldn't
dare look at my face.
'Sinister-looking man'
only the men said of me.
Being a bored retiree,
I visited a website,
seeking messages for dating.
When I typed down my age,
they flashed a startling joke:
' Wow! Just born'; my heart broken.
I entered another site,
answered Psychology-tests
and they greeted me to have
all my erogenous zones thrilled
by the folks of epicurean tastes.
When they told me to send
a maiden message to a friend waiting,
I typed: ' Don't look at my empty purse'.
Her lightinng curt reply was:
' You funny old geezer! Wanna meet me? '
I switched over to another site.
They sent loads of profiles
of Mr.Quickfire, Longman, Footy Punch
and so on, wanting soulmate soon.
My God! I cried and clicked: 'Unsubscribe'.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Related quotes
My Computer
Welcome, uve got mail {aol sample}
(computer) {sample repeats in bg}
It was sunday night, instead of doing what I usually do i..
Chorus:
I scan my computer looking 4 a site
Somebody 2 talk 2, funny and bright
I scan my computer looking 4 a site
Make believe its a better world, a better life
Nothing on tv I aint seen before
Another murder on the news, I cant take no more
Evil incorporated, blowing up bombs and thangs
I have a child, huh, I have a lot 2 explain
I could write a letter, but who would I send it 2?
It was sunday night, instead of doing what I usually do i..
Chorus
I called an old friend of mine just the other day
No congratulations, no respect paid
All she did was wonder if the rumors were true
I said - no, I aint dead yet, but uh.. what about u?
I can count my friends with a peace sign: 1, 2
It was sunday night, instead of doing what I usually do i..
I scan my computer looking 4 a site
Somebody 2 talk 2, funny and bright (oh)
I scan my computer looking 4 a site
Make believe its a better world, a better life (a better life)
I got no mail, my computer
I told them I dont wanna see a doctor unless hes lonely 2
Every sunday night, instead of doing what I usually do i..
I scan my computer looking 4 a site
Somebody 2 talk 2, funny and bright
I scan my computer looking 4 a site
Make believe its a better world (make believe its a better world)
A better life {x52}
Goodbye {aol sample}
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Would Be A Poet?
Tell me, who would be a poet?
Just think what it entails...
And we know we'll sometimes blow it,
For every writer fails...
To think, that when we're feeling down,
We write to raise a smile,
But then we often have to frown,
Restricted by some style...
Eight syllables, then six below,
That's how I try to write...
Eight syllables to match the flow
Then six to keep it light...
So pretty soon verse three's arranged
Before the poem's done
And then verse four gets somewhat changed,
But don't tell anyone!
Some names get swapped and switched around,
Some placenames, too, replaced...
And suddenly an ending's found
And that has to be phrased...
My, my, it's like a Mystory Tour!
All jumbled jolly stuff,
With heartfelt tales of sweet amour
And that weird thing called lurv...
For thirty years, I've typed and typed
And typed and typed again...
I've either griped or else I've hyped
And emptied every pen...
The Writing Bug's still bugging me...
And yet how much I owe it!
Except no sweetheart's hugging me!
So who would be a poet! ?
Denis Martindale, copyright, October 2011.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Love Bursts In A Flash
A five-page missive
giving the definitions of love
and the beautiful quotes of it,
he wrote and sent it to a beauty.
Being unable to nose out a loving glance
he threw off his pen and stopped writing.
He typed a poem of a hundred lines,
detailing how an epic character,
his love should be and comparing her
to the matchless heroines of Shakespeare
and mailed the epistle to a damsel,
awaiting a positive message.
He clicked and opened the box daily
but found only calls for dating
from some nobile witches.
'No one turns her eyes on me',
murmuring, he walked to the suicide-spot
to fall headlong into the misty vale deep.
'Hi', greeted him a voice so sweet
and wanted him to jump into death together.
He pulled her back
and they made a dramatic turn about
to live in this earth enchanting.
-
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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And it is very moving because one has to see the site not as just another site of development but it is a very special site. It is a site that souls and hearts of all Americans.
quote by Daniel Libeskind
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Michelle's Surprise
Michelle is a spinster in her thirties
she's lived and knows the score.
She'd finally found a likeable man,
divorced and single for sure.
She allowed herself several weeks
to ensure he was Mr Right.
Over shadowing all her past lovers,
he was sincere, loving, and bright.
For twelve weeks she lived in heaven,
until she discovered a lie.
He was using an on line dating service,
seeking relationships on the sly.
She thought, don't get mad get even,
and joined the same dating site.
As another woman she replied to his posting
and arranged a date for a Friday night.
Michelle saw her mark anxiously waiting,
like a lion at a table set for two.
Whilst champagne cooled in the bucket,
his ardour was showing through.
She calmly walked up to the table,
pulled out a chair and sat down.
'Hello Mark, what are you doing here? '
He twitched and anxiously looked around.
'Oh, I'm just waiting for someone.'
'Someone special I dare say, ' said Michelle,
'champagne suppers are so romantic,
especially when you expect to do well.'
'Michelle, what you are implying,
I'm just having dinner with a friend.'
'Well aren't you just a cheating liar,
I'm your date, and this is the end!
She took the champagne from the bucket
and emptied the contents on his head.
'I think this concludes our date nicely,
and there's nothing more to be said! '
poem by Orlando Belo
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You Bet It (Fun Poem 55)
For JoAnn who knows what I mean.
When you talk on messenger
you type so very fast
to keep the conversation flowing,
but there are occasions
when your typing falls short
of what it should be
and you end up with
a funny kind of message.
I was talking to a friend
and to answer a question I purposed
she wrote or was suppose
to write you bet it.
However, what was typed
wasn’t you bet it at all.
Instead it read you be tit.
We both looked at it
and started to laugh.
Another blooper
for the jam pot that night.
23 January 2008
poem by David Harris
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We set up a beta site, a test site, with movie, music and book reviews. If you're reading them and you want to buy a book or a ticket for a movie that's reviewed on the site, you can do that without leaving our site.
Then I became aware of the site as the traffic for it became higher. The most recent contact was this girl Lily. She wanted me to shoot her for the site and she actually showed up. There a lot of people who contact me to do a shoot for a website then you never hear from them.
quote by Richard Kern
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fooling The Boys
Shhh, the boys think I'm in the tub,
Here I am again, doing what I love,
If they catch me they gonna fuss,
Momo spend some time with us,
Hehe....they didn't used have time for me,
The tables DO turn you see,
Before I stumbled onto this site,
I was alone most every night,
Now they notice Mama missing,
Who's butt now may need kissing?
I have to sneak to lose them now,
Serves em right anyhow,
Its funny to me NOW they know,
How they really need to show,
That they want my time and company,
Things will be better than they used to be,
They always had my full attention,
Tried to get theirs more times than I care to mention,
It's funny this is called a site,
It opened up eyes that were shut tight,
So after the homework, supper and baths,
We'll watch cartoons, have some laughs,
And be the way we should have been,
Before this site, way back when,
And as soon as I have them all tucked in,
I'll be back on, say o around 10,
And I will have the best of both worlds,
Ain't it funny how life unfurls?
poem by Vallerie Lobell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With our website we didn't want people to come to our site and find out about Radiohead. We wanted them to come to our site and find out about what Radiohead are finding out about.
quote by Colin Greenwood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mixed Messages
Youre sending me mixed messages
Mixed messages that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
When I get too close to you
I feel the fear, can almost hear it
Then you call me late at night saying can I be with you
I wanna be with you
Youre sending me mixed messages
Mixed messages that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
You keep your thoughts to yourself
You keep me guessing while were undressing
Then youre gone for days on end and
Here we go again
Here we go again
Youre sending me mixed messages
Mixed messages that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
It cant keep bouncing around like this
You cut me loose then pull me in for a kiss
If you know what you want
Why dont you tell me, clearly
Wonder why it bothers me
I wonder why I even wonder why
If I had another lover, well, would it get to you
Would I get through
This puzzle of mixed messages
Mixed messages, that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
Youre sending me mixed messages
Mixed messages that I can hardly work through
Where the heart lies
Which message is coming truly from you
song performed by by Bangles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mind and Heart
When I told him
How much I loved him
With all my heart…
He replied to me
Sarcastically…
There's nothing
Called the Heart.
It's all to do with the
Mind.
I felt heart-broken
With his curt reply.
Nevertheless,
Just to test his
Words…
I thorned his mind
With my prickly
Words, to see if his
Heart grieves…
Bingo! It did.
My offensive
Words caused
Him a lot of hurt.
He cried with a
Heavy heart and
Died of a heartache.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Footy
a footy is spotty
a footy is round my heart thumps
when it hits the ground
a footy is fun
because when you play you get to much sun
i love football footy is great to have in the world
someday in space
we can leave a rocket and take a footy
just in case
by shannon reynolds 8j
poem by Shaz 8j Reynolds
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My Favourite Fan
Being a writer I receive
Sweet screeds from folk of every land;
Some are so weird you'd scarce believe,
And some quite hard to understand:
But as a conscientious man
I type my thanks to all I can.
So when I got a foreign scrawl
That spider-webbed across the page,
Said I: "This is the worst of all;
No doubt a child of tender age
Has written it, so I'll be kind,
And send an answer to her mind.
Promptly I typed a nice reply
And thought that it would be the end,
But in due course confused was I
To get a letter signed: Your Friend;
And with it, full of girlish grace,
A snapshot of a winsome face.
"I am afraid," she wrote to me,
"That you must have bees sure surprised
At my poor penmanship . . . You see,
My arms and legs are paralyzed:
With pen held in a sort of sheath
I do my writing with my teeth."
Though sadness followed my amaze,
And pity too, I must confess
The look that lit her laughing gaze
Was one of sunny happiness. . . .
Oh spirit of a heroine!
Your smile so tender, so divine,
I pray, may never cease to shine.
poem by Robert William Service
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Hey
hey there...
you sent me e-mail about your new lyric site and i
just wanted to say that he is 0 compares to your other site that i just love
he's great and you dont need to open another site
i love using lets sing it and i dont need a sustitute
i hope you'll take this as a compliment
Riko
please write me back if you get to see that
song performed by by Rage Against The Machine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elegy for a Poet
I hark back to the days when I
Began, in pen and ink,
To scrawl some petty poems,
How to feel, and how to think,
And people seemed to like the way
My simple little rhymes
Would trace a basic pattern
Through the heartache of their times.
So I continued writing; then
I typed my manuscripts,
I hit the keys so hard that
All my paper fell to bits,
But still I persevered, until
Computers stole the scene,
And little plastic keyboards
Put the words up on a screen.
But all along I used the name
Of Earle E. Everett,
I used it in the magazines,
And on the Internet,
My work was always copyright
I'd scrawl that little ©,
To keep the rights forever
For my family and me.
Then recently, while surfing through
A site I'd never seen,
A poem that I'd written years ago
Came on the screen,
I read it with nostalgia then,
I sat and read it all,
But written at the bottom was
The name of - 'Charles McFall'.
I looked in vain for something
That would say that it was mine,
That poem was a grape I'd plucked,
New fallen from the vine,
But nowhere did it state the name
I'd always seen there yet,
No sign that it was written by
The poet Everett.
I sat there stunned, and fearful
And angry, fit to burst,
I mailed the new Webmaster,
And I must admit - I cursed!
I said that stolen copyrights
Would take him straight to hell,
But there was no reply, the site
Was 'Unavailable.'
For weeks, until the early hours
I scanned that little screen,
I looked in vain for Everett,
The poet I had been;
But one by one my poems
On the sites, both one and all,
They ended with the message -
Copyright, by Charles McFall.
I went into the Office, thought
To phone the Inter-police,
For surely they could help me,
Could advise me on the case,
But then I met Security, they'd
Locked the Office down,
They said I didn't work there,
So I staggered off to town.
I thought I'd better phone the wife
I'd left in bed asleep,
I had an awful feeling, and
That feeling wouldn't keep,
I rang the mobile number, and
I said: 'Is that you, Darls? '
She muttered in her sleepiness:
'You'll want my husband, Charles! '
I'm sleeping in the gutter, in
A big old cardboard box,
Some hobo caught me sleeping
And he stole my shoes and socks.
I've given up on poetry,
On writing overall,
You'll hear no more from Everett,
I'm merely….
Charles McFall
23 July 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Heartless
Your so heartless,
I hope you know this,
How you are treating me is wrong,
I noticed for the three months we been dating its bad to good now its getting worse,
You promised me our love wouldn't change,
This was love at first site now its, its love going down the drain,
I have been not talkative as much towards you for one main reason I don't like the way you don't acknowledge me half the time I am being ignored and you get mad at me cause I treat you the same,
We promised each other to have communication for this relationship but it feels like I am doing all the work,
I have been putting more weight in this relationship than you,
I tell you things some of my ex's don't even know,
I told you some personal information about me yet half the time I think to myself why am I telling this boy these things cause now I regret ever doing it,
I should have kept my distance,
And now I will do so,
Anytime you ask whats wrong with I always reply with the same nothing is wrong,
Your nothing but heartless as boy who doesn't deserve a women like me,
I am getting to the point I will dump you and never speak to you ever again.
He is heartless and nothing more.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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Along Comes Mary
Every time I think that
I'm the only one who's lonely
Someone calls on me
And every now and then
I spend my time at rhyme and verse
And curse those faults in me
And then along comes Mary
And does she want to give me kicks and be my steady chick
And give me pick of memories
Or maybe rather gather tales from all the fails and tribulations
No one ever sees
When we met I was sure out to lunch
Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch
When vague desire is the fire
In the eyes of chicks whose sickness
Is the games they play
And when the masquerade is played
The neighbor folks make jokes
At who is most to blame today
And then along comes Mary
And does she want to set them free and
Let them see reality
From where she got her name
And will they struggle much
when told that such a tender touch of hers
Will make them not the same
When we met I was sure out to lunch
Now my empty cup tastes as sweet as the punch
And when the morning of the warning's passed
The gassed and flaccid kids
Are flung across the stars
The psychodramas and the traumas gone
The songs have all been sung
And hung upon the scars
And then along comes Mary
And does she want to see the stains
song performed by by Bloodhound Gang from Hooray For Boobies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The bow-leg boy
Who should come up the road one day
But the doctor-man in his two-wheel shay!
And he whoaed his horse and he cried "Ahoy!
I have brought you folks a bow-leg boy!
Such a cute little boy!
Such a funny little boy!
Such a dear little bow-leg boy!"
He took out his box and he opened it wide,
And there was the bow-leg boy inside!
And when they saw that cunning little mite,
They cried in a chorus expressive of delight:
"What a cute little boy!
What a funny little boy!
What a dear little bow-leg boy!"
Observing a strict geometrical law,
They cut out his panties with a circular saw;
Which gave such a stress to his oval stride
That the people he met invariably cried:
"What a cute little boy!
What a funny little boy!
What a dear little bow-leg boy!"
They gave him a wheel and away he went
Speeding along to his heart's content;
And he sits so straight and he pedals so strong
That the folks all say as he bowls along:
"What a cute little boy!
What a funny little boy!
What a dear little bow-leg boy!"
With his eyes aflame and his cheeks aglow,
He laughs "aha" and he laughs "oho";
And the world is filled and thrilled with the joy
Of that jolly little human, the bow-leg boy--
The cute little boy!
The funny little boy!
The dear little bow-leg boy!
If ever the doctor-man comes my way
With his wonderful box in his two-wheel shay,
I 'll ask for the treasure I'd fain possess--
Now, honest Injun! can't you guess?
Why, a cute little boy--
A funny little boy--
A dear little bow-leg boy!
poem by Eugene Field
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The Federal City
OH! the folly, the waste, and the pity! Oh, the time that is flung behind!
They are seeking a site for a city, whose eyes shall be always blind,
Whose love for their ease grows greater, and whose care for their country less—
They are seeking a site for a city—a City of Selfishness.
In ignorance, deafness, blindness, in the cities by the sea,
With waste of time and of money, and with local jealousy;
With Anti-Federal envy, and personal paltriness,
They are seeking a site for a city—while Australia moans in distress.
By the coast with the people crowding, where Australia’s danger lies,
By the hills and the clear, cool rivers, and under the softer skies,
Where the fat shall not melt, and the ranter grow cool in the fresh’ning breeze,
And the dwellers drivel in comfort and the boodlers swindle at ease.
They are seeking a site for a city in the beauty spots of the land,
While I see so plainly, my children, where the Federal towers should stand!
Where the heart of Australia beats strongest and highest in desert air.
Make a site for a Federal City, and build you your capital there!
Where the crowd should be drawn from the coast line to the great bush that cradled the race,
Where the bush might be armed and directed should the seaboard be lost for a space;
Where the waste should be watered and gardened, in the drought-land of Never Despair,
There build you your Federal City, and make you a paradise there.
It shall be a world-wide object-lesson; it shall stand while a bushman is true,
And I tell you the bushmen will build it to show what a nation can do;
And there shall Australia sit queenly, and there shall her children be schooled,
For, I say, from the heart of Australia shall the whole of Australia be ruled.
poem by Henry Lawson
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