advertising pays
very well
if you've an excellent
product to sell

you won't believe
the turn over you'll obtain
when posting an ad
on your pages plain

advertising is where its at
on letting the public know
about a bowler hat
Marks and Spencer
have the latest range
on their London stores
display mat

were it not for free to air television
and billboards on the street
we'd be unaware of an Aspire brand
of cotton sheet

advertising reaches
potential customers
looking for wares
who'll be wanting
to purchase
a variety of hares
Vexren4000 Feb 24
A cabinet,
Holding something,
Displaying or containing,
Sometimes the simplest things,
Can hold the most complexity.

Randy Johnson Feb 19
Gordon Ramsay decided to pay a visit to Mel's Diner.
When he criticized Mel's food, Mel gave him a shiner.
Now Mel wears an eyepatch because Ramsay jabbed him in the eye with a fork.
He hated Mel's beef and had to have his stomach pumped when he ate Mel's pork.
Ramsay didn't like the waitresses so he told Mel that they had to go.
After years of faithful service, Mel fired Alice, Vera and Flo.
Flo was so angry that she was chomping at the bit.
She told Mel and Gordon Ramsay to kiss her grits.
Ramsay finally had to give up on Mel because his food is so terrible.
Ramsay's job is to help restaurants but he can't perform miracles.
This poem was inspired by the 'Alice' TV show
Randy Johnson Feb 18
It was a sad day in 1993 when you went to be with your maker.
You starred with William Hartnell and years later, you starred with Tom Baker.
You starred in seventeen episodes of Doctor Who.
The show became a success partly because of you.
Doctor Who was a fascinating show that was scary.
Millions of people were devastated when you died on the 18th of February.
Dedicated to Jacqueline Hill (1929-1993) who died 25 years ago today on February 18, 1993.
Johnny Noir Feb 2
My buddy just phoned & woke me up
to ask if I wanted to buy some weed;
of course I said hell yes, as I've run out,
but right before that I was having a
nightmare about a Kree dictatorship
taking over America that proceeded to
slaughter 'undesirables'; but as captured
freedom fighters were herded into a
mysterious subway car, one female
officer hustled me off to the side & let
me skate as I realized the state was
hunting down anyone who opposed
their alien rule; there were huge electronic
signs resembling Chuck Close portraits
of the fascist leader & banners proclaiming
the leader w/ propaganda slogans
declaring the futility of resistance;
but I knew we couldn't be stopped
& would prevail eventually although things
looked hopeless at the time; enforced
abortion & genocide making America great
again; I woke up shaking & answered
the call, told my friend I'll be over
in a while but I'll have to shower
& stop shaking from the dream reign
of terror that seemed all too real;
little black girls lying dead; bursts
of machine-gun fire in the public square;
the great leader in suit & tie was about
to give a speech surrounded by armed
guards in black tactical gear;
this was the moment to marshal
our forces (Ice-T was there & the other
detectives from Law & Order SVU &
I realized the dream was inspired by TV,
particularly the coming attractions
for Marvel's Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.)
& assassinate the leader but the state's
surveillance apparatus revealed
our movements & we were surrounded &
rounded up; the others pushed
into the dimly lit transport but as I said,
I was hustled aside & let go unseen;
then I went down a cement spiral stair
that led far below to a sub-basement
bomb shelter where real freaks
had long hidden themselves; pedophiles,
rapists & abusers doing what they do  
& there I broke up a man & his wife
raping a retarded teenage girl & taking her
w/ me I searched for other freedom fighters
b/c we were not all captured
& I wasn't alone; I woke up knowing
we would win one day but still in all...
I'm watching way too much television!
shades drawn,
but the sun gods
want it their way,
piercing through the cracks
to awaken and shaken
me from this drunken hell

the ray of light
penetrates my eyes like
a Cossacks sword,
ripping open my eyelids
like a torn lampshade

poking the surface of
my pupils with the tip
of tiny daggers slightly
puncturing my iris

I want it to go away

I want it all to go away
as I turn my back to
the sun but the light still
twists my optic nerves
like churro sticks

agony comes so often,
like rain, and my brain
feels like it’s swimming
around in a fishbowl but
I must crawl to the toilet
and empty my bladder
and dry heave down the
drainpipes of dysentery

I was once told that
without the sun, the
outside world behind
those drawn shades
would be absent
in natural color
only leaving what
little the moon provides
behind the shadows
and the man made
artificial coloring

the moon and I are old foagies,
spending countless nights,
locked at the hip,
howling at the alley
cat on the backyard
fence and we will see
each other again as
soon as I feel better

but as for color
made by mankind,

bless the artificial
sun gods for neon
beer signs and

without it,
this gut wrenching
hangover destroying
my insides
wouldn’t be able
to relate or
be entertained
by the Japanese
sea monster
the city of Tokyo.
I’m hungover but what else is new, I got this.
mythie Dec 2017
Everywhere I go.
I get foul looks.
Looks of pity.
None I care for.

"His parents..."
"He's gay?"

I sit at the television.
Flipping through channels.
The broadcasts.
The audience.

The bruises that mark my skin.
"Fucking loser."
"Not even going to fight back?"
Are a reminder of my trauma.

I'm friends with the colorbars on the television.
The red, yellow, green and blue.
The black, white and grey hues.
The static that seems to scream my name.

I am left with a single rose.
I don't know where it came from.
Or where it goes.
But it's my rose.

I can't take the beatings any longer.
I'm sorry to her, my best friend through this all.
I can't do this anymore.
I can't do anything.

I engrave my skin.
Line by line.
Until three deep strokes mark my wrist.
I feel dizzy but don't sleep.

She asks me where I've been.
I hide my wrists and smile at her.
She looks at the bruises on my face.
She angrily frowns.

I'm sorry to her, my best friend through it all.
It's just too hard.
I can't hold on.
So I leave you my rose.

The flower beside your bed.
The bright red rose that stained everything.
Crimson gushes from my wrists, from my neck.
It tastes metallic.

I'm happy now.
I smear it all over the TV screen.
Now I can become one with my friends.
Come on, play with me.
the middle.
Lou Dec 2017
I could while away the hours 
    Conferrin' with the flower
Consultin' with the rain
And my head, I'd be scratchin'
While my thoughts were busy hatchin'
If I only had a brain...

Alms to flashes,
Storms on television sets
Domesticating nature for High Definition erotic fixation.
Suffocating families in screens.
Screens and flashes,

Alms to flashes.
Distractions spurn all my senses
I am hard and flaccid
and want more
but less
but right now
and again!...

I can feel the needle connect to my veins and into my spine
Push the plunger down and connection is made.

I would not be just a nuffin' my head all full of stuffin'
My heart all full of pain.
I would dance and be merry, life would be a ding-a-derry,
If I only had a brain.
Media has a powerful suggestive force on our lives.
mythie Nov 2017
I stand tall, smiling manically through a TV screen.
Static amidst the broadcast, what a wonderful scene.

Turn up the volume, I'm showing the death of a nation.
Stand up and yell, dance in formation.

I open my third eye, I can see it all.
Turn around and around, everyone will fall.

They watch with their eyes glued.
No matter what they do, they're all screwed.

They sway two and fro.
A telecast promoting vertigo.

I raise a blade to my throat and sing a chorus.
Black chords all around like liquorice.

They stare hypnotised at the television show.
I cut my throat and blood starts to flow.

I open my third eye, I can see it all.
Turn around and around, everyone will fall.

The screen cuts to static. A washed out town.
For a mere moment, I was their king. I wore a crown.

I lay on the floor of the studio, bleeding out.
I hurt them all, my mind has no doubts.

But I smile and laugh, coughing up red.
Those bastards won't forget the things they said.
Next page