"atm" poems
everything is on sale
and I eat and eat
and yell at the couple
arguing in the ATM line
and smirk at the pharmacist
as I toss my meds in the
can behind the counter
king soopers
my realm
of crushed potpourri
honeycrisp apples
black cocktail dresses
stuck
shut with
peanut butter
I love grocery
shopping.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 1:00 PM UTC
Malakas ang bugso ng hangin
Bunsod ng pangangailangan
Bumubuhos ang ulan ng pananagutan
Daluyong, sunud-sunod ang hagupit
Mabuti pa ang kabuting mamunso
Magkakambal lamang karaniwan kung sumibol
Ngunit anong kalupitan mayroon ang kapalaran?
Di na nga makaahon sa dagat ng kahirapan
Ilulubog na naman ng alon ng kamalasan
Bibilangin bang muli ang galos ng panghihinayang
Tatapalan na lamang muli ang sugat ng puso
Ng dahon ng ikmo ng kapaitan
at binulungan ng orasyon ng sama ng loob
Bigo pa rin sa paghihintay ng kayamanang mailap
Litanya ng kabiguan:
Pagkawala ng mga ari-arian..........
Pagka-ilit ng lupa at tahanan..........
Pagkaulila sa magulang..........
Pagkasangla ng kinabukasan..........
Sakuna..........
Tila mga butil ng rosaryo
Walang hanggang pagtitiis
Bukas darating ang maniningil – ng hinuhulugang 5-6
Nakasangla pa rin ang ATM sa ‘Lend Bank’ – di na matubos-tubos
Tinawag na lahat ng santo at santang maaaring utangan
Ng panustos na biyaya –
GSIS Loan, ipanalangin mo po kami
Provident Fund Loan, kaawaan mo po kami
Kooperatibang Malapit, maawa ka sa amin
Bumbay sa palengke, ipag-adya mo po kami
Kubrador ng huweteng, patayain mo po kami
Lotto, GrandLotto, MegaLotto, SuperLotto, UltraLotto,
patamain mo po kami
BIR, patawarin mo po kami
Presyo ng langis, kahabagan mo po kami
Lahat ng ito’y isinasamo namin
Dahil lahat na yata ng kahirapa’y nasa AMEN.
Sep 12, 2017
Sep 12, 2017 at 5:08 AM UTC
Feed my addiction
Feed my addiction
Have a nice day
Yes have a nice day
Give me money
So I can buy a pack of smokes
And give me money to buy myself
A case of beer dude
You need to feed my addiction
Feed my addiction
Have a nice day
I want to eat junk food
I want to smoke like I am a chimney
I know there are people in third countries but who cares
Just care for me
Feed my addiction
Feed my addiction
Have a nice day, mate
I just want to ask for money
Like you are a walking atm
You see you should give me money
So my addiction is fed
I look like to people on the street
Like I am big ted
Feed my addiction
Feed my addiction
Have a nice day
Give me money for smokes and beer
So I can have my solitude
That is important very important
To give me what I want
Feed my addiction
Give me money right now buddy
To feed my addiction
Feed my addiction
Have a have a have a really nice day
This isn’t about me personally
It is about beggars on the street
They ask for money every day
Which can be annoying especially
When it is just to feed their addiction
For beer or smokes
Jul 7, 2019
Jul 7, 2019 at 3:18 AM UTC
"I gtg"
"Brb"
"Ttyl"
"I'll message you later"
"I'll get back to you"
"I'm busy atm"
"I can't talk rn"
**** your lies.
If you're so busy then what is with those 20 posts about being alone? You wouldn't be alone if you talk to the person who you just told to go away.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 4:12 PM UTC
I.
Sinong mag-aakalang matatapos ang lahat sa atin?
Naalala mo ba na halos boto ang lahat sa atin?
Akala nang iba, ‘di tayo magpaghihiwalay,
Akala nang iba, tayo'y walang humpay.
II.
Noon 'yun, at hanggang akala nalang 'yun.
Ang sabi nga nila, “Mahirap tumama ang mga akala”
Maraming nadismaya at nalungkot nung malaman nila.
Na ang dating hindi mapaghiwalay
Ay may bago na ulit buhay.
III.
Bakit nga ba nawala ang dagitab sa'ting dalawa?
Ahh, naalala ko na!Nagloko ka nga pala.
Humanap ng iba, Samantalang ako tiwalang-tiwala
Na ako na ako lang ang iyong sinta.
IV.
Ako naman 'tong si tanga, tiwalang-tiwala naman
Na hindi mo lolokohin ang isang tulad ko,
Tanda mo pa ba? Halos lahat ng sikreto ko alam mo.
Pati nga numero ko sa ATM pinagkatiwala ko sa'yo.
V.
Ang tagal na natin, magli-limang taon na sana,
Ang dami kong masasayang ala-ala na mababalewala.
Pero aanhin ko naman ang mahabang pagsasama,
Kung araw-araw may kahati ako sa'king sinta?
VI.
Siguro nga'y tapos na ang ating istorya,
Nabasa na nila ang bawat pahina,
Natuldukan na ang kwento nating dalawa.
At nalaman na nila kung ano ka ba talaga.
VII.
Mas mabuti pa ngang punitin na ang bawat pahina,
O kaya sunugin nalang, para mas madali, 'di ba?
Pero salamat sa'yo ha. Dahil kahit paano may natutunan ako
Na hindi sa tagal ang sukatan ng pagmamahal, sa tiwala!
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 12:06 PM UTC
ching, ching
Two men walk into a local cafe.
A city boy, and a Townsman
The cityboy sports
Slicked up hair.
Blue button up shirt,
Grey slacks.
Dress shoes.
The townsman simpler.
Brown hair.
Orange T-shirt,
cargo pants.
Work boots.
"Hey there!" Says the city boy.
walking up to the counter.
"Do you ladies have different roasts of coffee?
Or do you have just one kind?"
The Register girl looks at him sideways.
"What are you talking about?"
"I want a black light roast if you have it. Also, two shots over ice."
He hands her his travel mug.
"What's this for?"
The girl fondles the travel mug.
"I'd like my coffee in that please."
The manager puts a hand to the girls shoulder.
"The house coffee is a light roast doll, give him that."
"Cream and sugar?" Asks the register girl.
"Oh god, please no." Laughs the city boy "Thank you."
Handing over a credit card.
The register girl does not understand
what is so funny about cream and sugar.
"Cash?" Says the manager.
"Is there an atm? I can only offer this, but I know how to change that if you point me in the right direction."
"No ATM. We just Offer a discount for cash, we'll take your card." Says the manager.
The city boy waits for his drinks.
The townsman, walks up and says
"Coffee, please"
The manager hands him a paper cup with coffee, cream, and sugar.
He pays them in cash.
smiles, nods. Says: "Thank you"
Then waits for the city boy.
"Here's your sippy cup."
Says the register girl.
Handing over his travel mug.
The city boy stands there waiting patiently.
"Are you waiting for something?"
"Yes. my two shots over ice?"
"Oh I put it in there."
"Could I have two shots over ice please? I'll pay for it again if you forgot."
"Oh we don't have an espresso machine.
Our shots are like a syrup."
"Oh... Is there syrup in here?
I just wanted two shots over ice."
"Well like... I mean our prices are so low anyway, it's no big deal, but we don't have an espresso machine so..."
"Sorry" says the manager.
"Thank you ladies." Says the townsman.
The cityboy grabs the townsmans hand.
They leave the Cafe.
The city boy sips his
Botched coffee.
"I've had good, bad, and know what I want.
I don't want to be seen as difficult because I'm educated."
He tolerates it.
The townsman sips his
Familiar Coffee.
"Sometimes ignorance is bliss."
He enjoys it.
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 10:31 PM UTC
Where is the patriotism?
Nowadays everyone is diving in the ocean of imagination
Regardless of what is happening to the nation
The majority of educated people who never stood in poll lines to give votes
Can now be seen in Bank and ATM lines collecting pink notes
Everyone tries to show patriotism in their famous poem and notations
But when it comes to reality everyone they are pretending that they had just went into depression
On the night of 8 November the poor felt that they had become wealthier than the rich
But now the politicians have started commenting that their situation is not less than the homeless *****
On the same night all the corrupt started rifling their old currency notes
Few were found in the pillow covers and few in the Tommy's dusty coats
The next morning the scrap of old notes were found some in the dustbin, some on the river Ganges and even on the boats...
Now I have just a simple question, is this the patriotism they had all the time showed?
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 12:39 PM UTC
Stinky and Hinky
Both egregious pigs
Set out to **** us all;
They don't care a fig
If all of us starve to death
As long as they get rich.
Stinky and Hinky
Each a venal summabitch!
Stinky hired Hinky
Two minds, one sewer.
Stinky had no talent
But Hinky was newer.
Many people doubted
That either had a chance
But over half the voters
Chose to skip the dance.
So we got two reprobates
With no regard for us.
So, without much fanfare
And no legitimate fuss
The country got overrun
Crooks got left in office.
Now they all are setting out
To, once and for all, off us.
Stinky is a *****
And Hinky is a bigot.
They crap on the Constitution.
And expect us all to dig it.
Stinky uses the USA
As his personal ATM.
Hinky is just evil.
We’ve had enough of him.
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 5:22 PM UTC
I'm not one for these new times
I guess I belong in the past
Time once went by slowly
Now, it goes too fast
I don't know facebook
I don't tweet
In fact I don't know what that means
I belong in yesteryear
When men still cuffed their jeans
I guess I'm just an old school fool
An old school fool, that's me
I guess I'm just an old school fool
That's what I'm proud to be
I guess I'm just an old school fool
The good times now are gone
No one wants an old school fool
I guess that I will just move on
I don't get the music now
There's no song I like to hear
I'd rather sit and read a book
Or watch tv with a beer
Technology is far beyond
What my mind can take in
I do not use an atm
Because I do not know my pin
I guess I'm just an old school fool
An old school fool, that's me
I guess I'm just an old school fool
That's what I'm proud to be
I guess I'm just an old school fool
The good times now are gone
No one wants an old school fool
I guess that I will just move on
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 6:22 PM UTC
I walk along Pacific Avenue
Santa Cruz, CA
I walk down past the nice parts
to the bus station
near seedy bars
and a sandwich board reads
Cafe Pergolesi one block
with an arrow pointing
It's not too early to scout locations
It's the location of my opening scene
I approach, and I see, it is still alive
in this summer evening
people outside and in
a trod upon, worn and comfortable air
various levels to the porch
even ash trays on the tables
like Vegas, everyone is welcome
Inside, this is no Starbucks
You don't see a line clearly where you must order
and pay
like a theme park
or a hospital
or a slaughter house
where you are funneled
It's not too clean
But it's filled with comfort
Huge couches beckon
A Victorian house
One people lived in
with spaciousness and windows
Real air permeates the place
An ATM is casually smashed between a couple of tables
but no one cares
you can't mass produce this wonderful mess
A friend's band CD blares through the speakers
badly recorded
a barrista in carefully torn fishnets sneaks a break
on the back porch with her cell phone
I buy water and a cookie and settle into a huge worn chair
Every room has a different theme
But I want comfort
I pull out my notebook and write
I have a shopping list of scenes
And I add another one for this place
Would they let me shoot here?
I don't know
But I think I could live here
It's so non judgemental
People buy things
But there isn't that corporate pressure
There are no special names for dumb things
just small, large, cookie, beer
This is cafe bliss
Jul 21, 2012
Jul 21, 2012 at 4:09 PM UTC
Pathetic.
That’s what I’d call you.
Just plain miserable
and manipulative.
You tricked me into giving you the world .
Deceived me into believing that you’d never do me *****
You blinded me by your lies
“Forget about them , you have me.”
But , I didn’t really have you ..
Did I ?
You took what you wanted .
You let me put you before myself .
But ?
I don’t even blame you .
Maybe if I would’ve been in your position ,
Being offered the world
And only being asked for friendship in return ..
Maybe then I would’ve robbed you of your trust .
And your love .
You were my best friend .
My ace ,
My platonic soulmate .
And I treated you as much .
But, what was I ?
To you ,
What was I ?
A personal tutor ?
Remember those last two essays that you just couldn’t get done ?
Who helped you ?
Who stayed up after an exhausting day at work ,
After having to bike home in the cold and rain ?
Just so you could pass and not worry.
Maybe , I was just a free ride .
Always taking you places ,
Always giving you the keys and letting you do whatever.
You filled the tank maybe twice
within a nine month period .
And I never once said anything .
Oh I got it , I was your ATM.
Whenever you needed money ,
I was glad to help .
Whether it was for an Uber so you could go to your volleyball tournament
Since your own “mother” couldn’t take you
Or whether it was for a Plan B because
YIKES
Your boyfriend didn’t know how to pull out .
Hm , I guess I was also a personal shopper .
Buying you clothes when I bought me some .
You didn’t wanna spend your money ?
That was fine .
I would spend mine
And you didn’t even have to ask.
I was everything except your friend
and that’s all I wanted to be .
I should’ve seen this coming .
I should have KNOWN .
Looking back
All I can see are the signs ,
Foreshadowing what was to come .
You started to change right in front of my own eyes
but I didn’t want to believe it .
Didn’t want to believe what I could clearly see .
You started to ignore me .
For days on end .
Living in the same house became something like a
Silent war .
Everyone against me .
Including you .
You started to disappear into your room .
There were no more lifetime movie marathons together .
No more staying up and goofing around together .
No more talking about any and everything together .
I lost you way before I knew I lost you
and that makes my heart ache
like a pre-existing bruise
getting hit over and over again .
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 7:42 PM UTC
Syndicate!
Venezuela.
A land of ghosts.
Where cell phones die.
Undetectable.
As families cry.
For their lost loves.
Hostages taken.
Vanish into night.
For minimal ransom.
Ransoms paid by families of wealth.
Abductees murdered.
Rarely returned.
Hostage takers.
Rarely caught.
In this land of class distinction.
Tension builds.
Some.
The lucky ones get taken from the avenues.
Taken to the ATM.
Where their bank accounts are drained.
Given drugs then dumped again.
Caracas homicide rates high.
Ransoms paid and men still die!
In this dark land where crimes flies.
Never solved in this land so corrupt.
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 11:56 AM UTC
I think about my future at work
I wonder when Ill meet the right girl
Be able to love and find the love I seek
Anxious to heal tired of feeling broken
Over feeling empty I just want to be complete
Capture the success I seek
Be able to calm down be satisfied
Instead of stressing and worrying
Live my life with others trying to set me back
Take swings at my smile
Belittle my effort thinking they'll break my spirit
Over waiting I know it should be mine
I put in the effort and the time
Fix me in the mold I break out grow old
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 5:19 PM UTC
The Navigator stands
at the top of the hill,
a spotlight illuminating the fog,
looking for a direction.
The stars are gone,
another moonless night,
all he has is his intuition
and questionable insight.
And so the dance of change begins
Moving outward
while moving in
Like a blind man at a drive through atm,
wondering how he got there,
listening for a sparkle
looking for an animal spirit in the dark.
There are cliffs and caverns
sinkholes and canyons
along the way
He's been known to fall
and rise again -
while heading towards the river
The Navigator, he is an expert
on moving in the darkness
looking for that one flash
our lives on display
The Navigator, he knows the signs,
sometimes right sometimes wrong
The paths have many directions to follow
But with the first step
all other paths
fade away.
Decisions are made
The Navigator, he has his day,
his way.
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 8:16 PM UTC
Legislators of social stigmatization
hand out identity before child birth,
reluctantly judged by your pigmentation,
you're given a name
and a pew in a church,
assigned to a gender with implications,
while ATM balance determines your worth
Bugs will certainly inherit the Earth
Disguised as your neighborhood
privacy invaders,
cops kick in the door
at your mother's front porch,
enforcing law written by legislators
for a routine seizure and search
Police brutality couldn't mask the depravity
of their warrants nomenclature
Capitalist crusaders terrorize Americans,
but can't keep the bugs
from their Earth inheritance
Men will shroud their evil nature
Malicious intent hides below the glacier
Camouflaged vindictive behavior
is electing dictators across the equator
Truth serenaders lobby for
congressional persuaders
to pardon these murderous
capitalist crusaders,
fitting agendas with tailor made suits,
who infect Mother Earth deep in her roots
Antibiotics couldn't heal or stop this
infection these players gave her
Pray for fire and fury
to burn away worry
when bugs surely crawl from the dirt
to inherit what's left of our Mother Earth
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 6:30 AM UTC
He opens his wallet and sees a big hole
He asks himself, "what did I just do to my wallet?"
He remembers the night, he partied hard and drank well with strange women.
He counts the type of liquor he bought and the number of women he shared with but he lost count.
He counts again, yet he lost the count again;'damn it' he yells.
He looks at his wallet hoping for a miracle, yet he still sees a '0' amount.
He tries to remember the amount he spent,
He started counting, but he lost count, too.
He walks to the ATM, and checks his bank balance
He sees three digits '0.00'
He has made another hole in his bank account - again.
He made a haste promise that he would never drink again.
Next fortnight he stuffed his wallet with bank notes
But never kept the promise he made
The hole in his wallet still remains.
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 8:34 PM UTC
Try to buy you roses. Hoping you care.
"Knock, knock", by your Heart. Hope someone's there.
Liberty of freedom between hips.
Taste of Love between lips.
ATM withdrawals to have all my money for you in checks.
But I'd fear of it not being my own withdrawal in the latex.
And not all sweet words sound the same,
Try driving slow in a fast lane.
Hiding often wise behind the camera lens,
Just hate for the love to be for a season, like loving the current trends.
Hold up on the minute just to have a second gone.
So many love tracks on the radio, but not singing the same song.
Really just too scared to wake up all alone.
Birthday wishes all on my own.
Dear, don't you run away from me. Try to follow you behind at a slow pace.
Holding on the best memories for closure just in case.
Just wanna be all that I could be.
Just longing for the clearer pictures I could see.
It's suspenseful but what could I do.
Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 1:13 PM UTC
The machine can only tell the truth
spit receipts( sometimes out on the street)
calculate how much your worth
and make you blush
if your bank account is below expectations.
Each time I stand before the Master
punching secret numbers
searching my memory bank for the last figures
I left behind
I am apprehensive and afraid
the ATM may punch back at me.
There is a long Q at the back of me
and the people that know their value
often shuffle the most.
Its us poor guys that must endure the pain
of exposure.
One of these days I going to tell
the teller in the ATM that my value
is more than just dollars and sense!
Thank you. I'm out of the q now with
twenty bucks. Phew!
Author Notes
These days I am writing poems of ordinary things. Bus Tickets, ATMs, Cellphones, Railway Tracks, Mr and Mrs Ordinary and all things that keep us attached to life and living. There's more around us than what we care to notice.
As a past time, I sit on a street bench and watch people as they go about their daily lives. The odd one deserves a poem. Thank you.
My last series covered Revolutions and Power. This series will cover Ordinary.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 5:28 PM UTC
Sixty dollar insurance i'll pay
for the chance to talk to someone
sixty dollars sixty dollars
take it put it back take it away need to again
sixty dollars I owe you three sets of twenty
one, two, three neat little thin stack I removed
from the Atm from a skinny mouth slit
slot and walked over and smiled and said
I'd like to reinstate my well being fee?
it is sixty dollars it says it's so easy to feel better
what a comfort. Okay sign here, it was so informal
sign here send us an email proving it was you
Shoot well that would be kind of a nice fraud
an anonymous someone paying for the chance
I might not feel well. Okay sounds great thank you
so much I really appreciate it.
Mom says well are you going to go
use it you paid for it might as well use it?
Yeah she's right I don't want to waste
it away or waste money I better find time to fit it in
when I can go I go I will feel much better financially
too if I just go.
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
I don’t know how to help people
without inviting them
inside of me.
I’ve always hollowed myself out for others.
Allowed people to hide in my veins,
or make a home out of my rib cage.
I don’t know how to save you without giving up
everything about myself.
I starve myself of love
To give it to others
But it’s never enough,
Sometimes I wonder why I bother
Yet I can’t stop emptying myself
To keep people full.
Sometimes I wonder if I give enough,
Like maybe if I were to scrape the inside of my bones
I’d find the love to give you
That would make you love me back.
Most days days i’m reminded
that my body is an ATM machine.
You see me as something that gives
I don’t have the option to take
And maybe that’s how it will always be.
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 11:13 PM UTC
Friends are our WiFi connection to life,
An ATM card in need,
A key that turns our sorrow into a smile,
A balm for our pain,
A moisturiser for our success,
Guardians of our secrets,
A rocking partner , a soulmate.
The foundation of a good marriage is friendship.
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 11:37 AM UTC
The Texans
Hot sauce
The color red
Art
Poetry
Pizza
Mexican food
Music
Eminen
Movies
My shoes
Fruit
FOOD!
Ummm I'm sure there's more just can't think of anymore atm...
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 1:34 AM UTC
There's an atm in my neighborhood
That gives out singles,
Or three of them,
Or seven,
And so on.
It sits next to the drywall box
Filled with EBT dinners,
Next to the numbered gas pumps.
It glows in the predawn air,
While I sit on a cement wall
Across the street.
That hunk of junk charged me $3.75 to take out $7.
Next to me a man tells his inquisitive boy
Why the police act as they do.
"They the cops, man.
Not you."
I'm watching with rapt fascination
The ten inch screen
Of some wheelchair-bound woman's
Educational tablet,
While her hand, twisted by palsy,
Taps at a magnified qwerty pad.
She's playing hangman,
And I silently,
Secretly,
Guess along with her for almost fifteen minutes.
The bus arrives, and I'm grateful
It's the doubled kind with the hinge in the middle,
Cuz maybe I won't have to stand.
I take the empty seat next to
A Salvadoreña co-worker
I sometimes ride in to work with.
Our conversations are limited,
As are her English and my Español.
We laugh at the Georgetown gringitas
lining up with their morning runners' clubs,
And lament over the cabrones pobres
Peddling to strangers for jobs
Outside the big box hardware store
That won't hire them.
The sun rises as we cross the Key bridge,
And the wounded Washington Monument,
With its scaffolding and the floodlights leaking through,
Is a diamond-studded phallace
Shining over a town draped in a shroud of humidity.
I close my eyes and try to rest
For the eleven minutes between
Me and my desk.
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 5:52 PM UTC
the jew in you,
something
you long suspected,
or long lamented.
too bad,
the absence of
this moniker if it
ain’t applicable directly
to your sorry ***
after all who doesn’t
want to be among the
ch-ch-chosen peeps?
this blessing
in disguise,
it’s very special
to be hated by
almost,
everyone.
hatred,,
the great equalizer,
highlighting your
choicest features
race, gender, roman nose,
etc., etc., etc.
but like the song said,
though somebody may
hate unlucky you,
everybody, no exceptions,
hates the jews.
everyone knows
the jews own the banks.
everybody hates the banks
who leave you on hold,
leaving you, wondering why,
they won’t give you back
at the ATM, the good money
you lent them,
so you must be
minimum 10%
shrewish (shhhh-jewish) or
whaat! why?
yup, your deposit is
a liability on their books,
(they owe it back to you)
so you too are
a moneylender,
congrats!
welcome to the club,
the club of being
a liability.
we jews travel
around the world,
chased out from
almost everywhere.
so we invented the
around-world-cruise,
and the world gave
us steerage class
to remind us,
even the jew in you,
that’s OUR special place.
postscript:
(All) Jewish Lives Matter!
Oy!
(don’t get me started...)
Oct 10, 2020
Oct 10, 2020 at 12:32 PM UTC