"carpark" poems
UMMMMMMMMM SAVE US FROM THESE ONLINE KILLERS
UMMMMMMMMM THEY ARE JUST TRYING TO ENJOY THE FUTURE OF TECHNOLOGY
UMMMMMMMMM PLEASE SAVE OUR YOUNG, UMMMMMMM THEY ARE TREATED LIKE TOYS
UMMMMMMMMM STOP THESE INTERNET PREDATORS, UMMMMMM FROM GETTING THEIR WAY WITH VICTIMS
UMMMMMMMMM THE COMPUTER ISN’T A TOY, IT CAN BE DANGEROUS, DON’T LET MY OLD ME, IN ANY OF YOU
I DON’T WANT PEOPLE GETTING ME WRONG UMMMMMMMMM I WANT ANY SIDE OF KIDNAPPER OUT OF ME
UMMMMMMMMM PLEASE COUNCIL BRETT’S FAMILY UMMMMMMMMMM PLEASE COUNCIL BRETT’S FAMILY
UMMMMMMMMM THESE INTERNET PREDATORS MUST BE STOPPED, UMMMMMMMM BURT IT’S HARD TO STOP THEM
UMMMMMMMMM YOUTUBE IS FUN AND UMMMMMMMMM DONE IN THE RIGHT WAY, FACEBOOK IS FUN
UMMMMMMMMM YOUNG DUDES, BE CAREFUL, UMMMMMMM YOUNG DUDES BE CAREFUL
UMMMMMMMMM DON’T MAKE STRANGE FRIENDS, UMMMMMMM CHOOSE YOUR MATES CAREFULLY
UMMMMMMMMMM CAUSE, THIS IS A HORRIBLE EVENT UMMMMMMM HELP GIVE EVERYONE PROPER COMPUTER CLASSES
UMMMMMMMMMM ON HOW TO HAVE FUN ON COMPUTER UMMMMMMM MY DAD WHO DIED AND BORN AGAIN AS ELIZABETH ANN CAMPBELL
UMMMMMMMMMM ALWAYS TRIED TO UNDERSTAND TECHNOLOGY UMMMMMM DON’T LET INNOCENT BOYS BE CAPTURED BY COMPUTER GEEKS
UMMMMMMMMMM NO COMPUTERS ARE FUN, SOCIAL MEDIA IS FUN UMMMMMM BUT PREDATORS ARE DANGEROUS
UMMMMMMMMMM DON’T LET WHAT HAPPENED TO BRETT, HAPPEN TO YOU, UMMMMMMMM TECHNOLOGY IS FUN, UMMMMMMM TECHNOLOGY IS FUN
UMMMMMMMMM BUDDHA ATHENA AND CROBUS, WHO IS ME, TO STOP ONLINE PREDATORS, GET THE HANDS ON OUR YOUNG
UMMMMMMMMM EVEN IF THEY ARE YOUNG THEMSELVES, UMMMMMMMMMM YEAH, BRING US PEACE FROM STUPID PREDATORS
UMMMMMMMMMM I AIN’T COOL TO **** UMMMMMMMMMM LIKE THE MAN DOING BURNOUTS IN THE CARPARK UMMMMMMM IT MIGHT LOOK FUN
UMMMMMMMMMM BUT IT COULD’VE KILLED THAT LADY, UMMMMMMMMMM IS IT REALLY WORTH IT, UMMMMMMMM IS IT REALLY WORTH IT
UMMMMMMMMMMM IS IT REALLY WORTH IT, TO **** FOR TECHNOLOGY, UMMMMMMMMM IT DOESN’T IMPROVE THE WORLD
UMMMMMMMM TO SEE ONLINE PREDATORS, GET THEIR WAY, UMMMMMMMMMM UMMMMMMMMMM UMMMMMMMMMM
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
Can the unstoppable force overcome the immovable object? The waves have been a teacher with more wisdom than any I have ever had before. Something so constant, so committed, so unflappable as the lapping or crashing of the waves upon the shore. If you need any evidence of her relentless nature, look no further than the foreshore, great boulders and cliff faces worn down to grit. A true mechanical entity, with precise surety, well versed in engineering, mathematics, weather patterns and fluid dynamics. Who would have thought a philosophical question would have an engineering solution? The answer is no, but the question lacks precision, it doesn't quite paint the picture as it happens. I dive into the crashing waves, stretched out long, offering no resistance, the wash thunders around me but still I glide forward in the water like a shark, no resistance. I am the immovable object. Suspended weightless I overcome the unstoppable force by holding ground, offering no resistance as it rages around and past me, trying to capsize me or push me backwards. The way of the seas, the ultimate peacemaker.
The parallels to life do not need pointing out thus, especially to those who fight for justice, the Davids versus their Goliaths. History's great peacemakers have been here before, the art of war is in passive resistance, principled adherence coupled with civil disobedience, your silence is considered tacit acceptance, so be not silent but give unto Caesar that which is Caesars. The fight is an uphill playing field, you must play by their rules, or the game is over, but you can win by their rules if you know where they bend. So stand peacemakers, face rows of riot shields, plow fields as Te Whiti did, collect salt as Gandhi, be not silent, tip toe that fine line between real change and hard time, wherever you see injustice speak, and seek conciliation. Peace is not achieved when nations put down their guns, peace is achieved when people embrace their neighbors as their brothers and sisters. It is achieved when people no longer speak of peace with longing in the same breath as cursing the person that parked in their carpark. Be peace and you will see peace, wish not to see it in the world if you cannot be it in your world. Change yourself and the world changes with you. So can the unstoppable force overcome the immovable object? That much is up to you.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 7:15 PM UTC
talk talk talk
from the drug and not the person
how long must I endure
to get my poison
roses are red
violets are blue
god made us beautiful
what happened to you
monochrome monochrome
all I see is monochrome
this must be the place
a carpark near the cemetery
how much how good
is there more to come
roses are red
violets are black
you’d look better
with as knife in your back
monochrome monochrome
all I see is monochrome
roses are red
violets are white
take your medicine to sleep at night
the priest departs
the acolytes give praise
worship your god for his gift of golden haze
monochrome monochrome
all I see is monochrome
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 6:45 PM UTC
On wheels
On the road
Off our heads
City bound
Let's go bro
Let the adrenalin flow
In search of narcotics
On Devilment Row
Where the good don't go
Here dealers compete
In a threatening way
And if you're not bold
You better not stay
Young joeys surround you
On the carpark
But you ignore them
And head inside
The deals are better in there
Though the risks are higher
Amidst the heavy hitters
Thirty or forty
To pick and choose from
What ya sellin'?
What ya deals like?
Everyone's suspicious
And everyone's armed
There are people murdered
In this part of town
And nobody blinks an eye
And you know that when
You're that close to death
You feel so very much alive
By Phil Roberts
Dec 11, 2017
Dec 11, 2017 at 11:06 AM UTC
***** dai the dogger,
went searching thro the woods,
with hope of voyeurism,
or ********* if he could,
sound of heavy breathing,
saw shadows through the trees,
a man was standing up,
woman on her knees.
they noticed dai was watching,
a dogger with a bone,
would you like to join us,
if we take you home?
*** show and a *********
***** dai's delight,
they led him to a carpark,
in darkness of the night,
we don't live very far,
our house is near caerphilly,
lady did'nt say much,
her partners name was billy.
snuggled up in bed,
dai's pants off,
so was billy's,
then dai shot through the window.....
cos both of them had willy's.
Feb 27, 2010
Feb 27, 2010 at 1:40 AM UTC
Into the cinema complex they crowded
excited at seeing the horror movie.
One couple had a foreboding sensation
entering through the glass doors!
Eager to enjoy the brand new complex
their situation was vex!
They had not been in here ever before
never encountering this oppression.
Quickly that packed area soon thinned out
as the ticket staff let them in.
Each screen room was rapidly filled
a new concept in horror was billed!
Noises like chains rattling behind
certain they had seen monsters!
Trying to laugh it off as only imagination
making their way to a screening.
But to afraid to enter even open the door
something creaked on the floor!
Retreating back to where they had come
not a soul was in the entrance!
Rapid movements seem to be in the shadows
as a creatures lunged at them!
Terrible screams which way to run
not their idea of fun.
A sudden crescendo of noise and blind panic.
as ****** people came into sight!
Flesh torn bodies they were being pursued
by werewolves with a hunger!
Three D images coming from every angle.
hundreds in a nightmare tangle!
The friends nearly trampled into the carpet
as zombies ravaged nearby.
Fearing for their lives trapped in the mayhem
heading for the exit.
From video game machines soldiers appeared
the whole situation was wierd!
They went after all the surrounding creatures
smashed the glass and let them out1
As all the chaos spilled onto the forecourt
there was a blue haze and silence.
The friends were standing in the cinema carpark
one had a premonition so stark!
Looking at the poster of the horror movie
they thought it best not to go in!
The Foureyed Poet.
Jul 10, 2011
Jul 10, 2011 at 3:00 AM UTC
shouldn't complain,
my life is good,
what's little rain !
but these little trials
of today, have me complaining anyway.
spilt coffee on my favourite shirt,
on the upside coffee
stone- cold no one hurt.
lost ten thousand word report, computer glitch
on the upside,
someone in Nepal
will have insight into dramatic synergy in isben's plays.
some dude stole my lunch, leftover chicken *** pie,
on the upside,
i'm fairly sure my two year old sneezed in it.
broke a heel in the carpark. no upside,
they were my favourites.
got home my mum,
who has come to live
with us,
has re-organised the kitchen. still looking
for the upside.
burnt dinner, no wine looking for the carkeys,
to go and find upside,
probably in the next city over.
car won't start,
upside,
no one can hear you,
scream in locked car!
downside,
they can see you....
...........shouldn't complain
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
you never realise how little time you have.
I was late that day,
and had to be rushed into a tiny theatre,
where two old ladies occupied the front row,
and, in the back row,
exasperated and whispered apologies,
I took my place, next to her.
we sat, intent,
gazing at the projection's motion,
hands slipping into embrace and retreat,
every five minutes or so,
under the lightsoaked linen, thrown over us,
thread count in french or czech,
I would turn, unnoticed,
to gaze at her cheek,
the fine glimmering reflection;
I'd understood that even less.
I hadn't realised that it was the last hour,
'til she grasped my hand
with both of hers,
as we walked to the carpark,
wordlessly.
in that silence, it was clear.
I felt every passing minute,
each a fresh wound,
blossoming within the last,
and, in late revelation that we'd naively spent up
so many sun or moon's passages;
to think this was the devil's purse, finally running dry.
outside of the scattered lights of my building,
as we sat, in some stranger's station wagon,
bound to our respective seats,
those fleeting moments crumbled,
those minutes, those waning seconds,
if only to have had one single instant more,
to never have seen the end.
but, it's never that easy.
*I hadn't noticed that she was wearing makeup,
until I saw her mascara run,
through my own bleary eyelids.*
And, in that moment,
amidst that grand crescendo,
one kiss on the cheek,
another, clumsily strewn across lips,
a bank of regret,
and I had already closed the door,
walking, silently leaking,
out of her life.
Nov 30, 2012
Nov 30, 2012 at 8:54 AM UTC
When the rain cleans the leaves, from the classroom awning
I walk to the hospital carpark, yawning.
Treading over makeshift graves for dead leaves,
I think to myself 'They've left home, they've left the trees.'
Sarcastically wondering why I can *** a smoke from cancer patients in mouring.
Constantly reading the same signs,
'No Parking'
'No Smoking'
'No Loitering
But I know I've been here far too long,
When the shattered, sick and weak tell me to move along.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 8:34 PM UTC
Hearts sparse in this carpark,
the wind feeling rowdy, biting like a
small rabid animal with no collar
wandering the city alone at night.
The car is making me claustrophobic,
I've spent far too much time with the heat,
too many minutes burning cigarettes and
my hands near-numb from the caffeine.
Poems are less like action movies and
more like action paintings exploding
in suspended motion. I'm sure we all
remember when art felt new. I can't
recall when it didn't feel so lived-in.
(*And of course this poem is merely
a memory of feelings, which is not much
of anything to me or you because the past
is dry and done and does not intrude.*)
Lincoln, Nebraska is a livelier city
than one expects. It is like going to an
art exhibit expecting Rothko and getting
Basquiat, bombast and immediacy.
My favorite poet is Craig Morgan Teicher
because he and I may ramble but he is not
afraid to sacrifice accessibility for
feeling. He could find the beauty in the
image of Lincoln, Nebraska in January.
I will soon need to devise another way
to keep myself entertained so let us
say this CD spins one more time and
maybe I can go for a walk, clear my head.
I do not intend this to be wrought with
sentiment, but there are times I am not
as cold as this city. There are times
the mind must scream
so the heart stays safe.
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 2:07 AM UTC
flakes in the kitchen, flakes in the kitchen
my fate is holy like religion, old traditions:
live life greedily, follow your ambitions
without the stacks, i got an itching
thousand racks, volume of a bible
the day is black, that is my lifestyle
don't offer me gizmos, i know the skid row
above the earth, you see an airglow
above my head, you watch my hair glow
snow male machiny, breathing airflow
phantom with a whisk, never stop-and-frisk
my birthmark, no risk, twenty yumys in the carpark
when no one sleeps, the crowd dances
i'll be hanging with the focus, grabbin' chances
fountain flavour, the mountain and the savior
brash, blue bunnies burning all my moneys
Sep 11, 2020
Sep 11, 2020 at 7:34 AM UTC
Saw you as I walked in
Dressed in blue you were
Walking out I saw you
Again, this time I saw
YOU
Angry eyes with tears not quite
Falling, father encouraging all
We deplore, carrying on the
World he knows, but not
Seeing how your anger throws
Through your eyes as they looked
At me, eyebrow raised 'bro! hope you see'!
All thats here and most of all
ALL of me
Dressed in blue
In the carpark
Dedicated to the young teen in blue xxxx
programas para baixar musicas - go to site
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 1:12 AM UTC
I'm not home until I'm there with you
No parent's house or old primary school is home
Home is a hardwood bench, a gap in the hedge, a hill atop a carpark.
But that still isn't home
I'm there now, alone
It's a graveyard without you, I can't call it my own.
I'm not home until I'm there with you
No childhood bed or favourite city is home
Home is the dying fire, sharing a cigarette with you, a quiet road in the cold.
But that sill isn't home
I'm there now, alone
Just haunting it without you, a dead weight in my bones.
I'm not home until I'm there with you
No grandmother's kitchen or familiar view is home
Home is a bear hug, the scent of a midsummer's breeze, a cuppa in your garden.
But that still isn't home
I'm there now, alone.
Tears streaming without you, my heart turns to stone.
Feb 11, 2012
Feb 11, 2012 at 12:57 PM UTC
Today while out on duty
the most surreal thing happened to me
and all this is true
ask the taxi driver
while senking of to have a drag
on vapor ***
noticed a taxi drive sitting on the car park
i was securing for the day
Knowing it would not be used
went of to tell him this carpark will not be use
and as I did leaning in his offside window
felt something rub against me leg
looked down
only a whiled rabit ******** on my foot
said to him look at this there is a rabit sitting on foot
if he had not seen it to I would have thought I was going mad
Buit there it was just sitting there
man weerded things happen to me
no wonder I so surreal.
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 6:29 PM UTC
It seems not all cars
Have a place to park
At night, when it’s dark
And everyone’s home is far
From the workplace;
Not everyone has a space
To rest
After being put to the test
Wherever we spent the day.
I’m still looking for my way
To my lot,
Where I can put my thoughts
Aside
And take
A break
Driving on this ride.
Sep 11, 2024
Sep 11, 2024 at 6:49 AM UTC
On wheels
On the road
Off our heads
City bound
Let's go bro
Let the adrenalin flow
In search of narcotics
On Devilment Row
Where the good don't go
Here dealers compete
In a threatening way
And if you're not bold
You better not stay
Young joeys surround you
On the carpark
But you ignore them
And head inside
The deals are better in there
Amidst the heavy dealers
Thirty or forty
To pick and choose from
What ya sellin'?
What ya deals like?
Everyone's suspicious
And everyone's armed
There are people murdered
In this part of town
And nobody blinks an eye
And you know that when
You're that close to death
You feel so very much alive
By Phil Roberts
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 2:40 PM UTC
You are careless about
my love
yesterday you left it in a carpark
while you shopped
today you forgot all about it
while you golfed
while you dined and whined
and laughed out loud
last night you dropped it at the door
of a club
You are careless about my love
you are careless
about
my
love
Feb 8, 2022
Feb 8, 2022 at 8:50 PM UTC
i guess i never loved you. i just
needed you. you read my journal
it was written that i
“i hate you”. “no one cares
if you were gone”. you
broke. i broke you
down, to watch you hurting and
tears rolling down. i saw that
you cared. you loved me.
sorry, i said so many times
while you just covered your ears.
i realized, i wielded that
knife to shatter you.
maybe that was why when you
snuck the $6.90 honey-baked
chicken from Cold Storage into
your bag, you said “i’ll look
after us”. leading us illegally
into USS, you said “anything
is possible
just stay with me”. and i did.
slowly, you slipped the reigns
i mishandled from my grip.
there it was yours now to hold,
the beach, carpark, stairwells saying
“the future’s an unpredictable
nature, no matter how hard you try”,
i suppose you knew how
things would have turned out.
easy for you to say, you predicted it
for us. that was how we broke
one
another to pieces.
Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 11:21 AM UTC
In the morning when you're thinking
Of the chores that lay ahead,
When the shower water's freezing,
When there's numbness in your head;
And the telephone is ringing
And there's someone at the door,
And the neighbour's dog is singing
And there's toys strewn on the floor;
When the kids are all a-squabbling,
When their music is too loud;
When the car has trouble starting
And it makes a knocking sound;
When you breathe a heavy sigh
And wish this day would pass you by
When the office phone is ringing
In the middle of your Zoom,
And the coffee tastes disgusting
And your client's a buffoon;
And your secretary is waving
As she tries to catch your eye,
And she's holding the receiver
With a teardrop in her eye;
And her frantic face is straining
As she passes you the phone,
And you hear the desperation
In the voice that calls you home;
When you breathe a heavy sigh
And wish this day would pass you by
At the school gate is a circus
And you think that you're the clown,
And your feet feel far too heavy
As they scrape along the ground;
And the sirens are a-wailing
As the uniforms go by,
And you feel your nerves are failing
And you dare not catch an eye;
And the headteacher is waiting
With his head bowed to his chest,
And he beckons you to join him
And he leads you from the rest;
And you breathe a heavy sigh
And wish this day would pass you by
And his words impart a sadness
That you cannot understand,
And you're staring at your fingers
As he's holding tight your hand;
And you see a policeman crying
Huddled on the stony ground,
With his colleagues standing by him
And they never make a sound;
And you walk across the carpark
And you walk towards the spot
Where the ambulance is waiting
And your stomach's in a knot;
And you breathe a heavy sigh
And wish this day had passed you by
And the doctor grabs your shoulder
As you stand outside the room
Where your broken child is laying
In the dimness and the gloom;
And the vest they wore this morning
Is ******* up and on the bed,
And there's tubes still in their nostrils
And their sheets are stained with red;
And he's talking and he's talking
But you don't hear what he said,
Just the faintest understanding
That perhaps someone is dead;
And you breathe a heavy sigh
And wish this day had passed you by
Just this morning you were thinking
Of the chores that lay ahead,
With the shower water freezing,
And a numbness in your head;
And the telephone was ringing
There was someone at the door,
And the neighbour's dog was singing
There were toys strewn on the floor;
And the kids were all a-squabbling,
How you miss that happy sound;
And the music they were playing,
You would love to hear it loud;
And the car had trouble starting
And it made a knocking sound;
Can you breathe one heavy sigh,
And have this day just pass you by?
Dec 16, 2021
Dec 16, 2021 at 9:07 AM UTC
handed a bottled by the father
in blue, seeing the son
admiring him too
I walked past thinking
you have a few
and I know because he's
taught you too
and here today together
you are
In the carpark
of the supermarkert
and I know you are
Lost
'for the boy in blue' x
convertidor youtube a mp3 link
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 1:55 AM UTC
In the carpark
I'm startled
by a flight of leaves.
It's colder than yesterday
and trees are **********
I abandon the footpath,
tread between tiny red
apples buttoning twigs
and dry grass, find
a bird's curled feather
white as snowfall.
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC
A seagull on the street, matte white smeared with tar
Iridescent waste piling up carpark corners,
Leaves swirling in empty lots like schools of fish
and I slip away in the currents
lips paralyzed, a gesture mistaken
faces feeling fading,
vacant animation
but you, sacrosanct, with
coloured paint,
suspended
in glass marbles
and on the street,
paint running into gutters,
paint splashed on concrete.
In this sparse web of sophistry,
light is democratic, affirmative.
Another daylight draws across the ocean
A seagull dives head first into the crescents.
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 7:54 AM UTC
I HAVE A *****
THOUGH IT'S QUITE SMALL
IT LIVES IN MY BRAIN
AS DEFINED BY FREUD
WHEN I THINK AT ALL
IT GETS SO *****
NOT A TENT
OR MULTI STOREY CARPARK
CAN KEEP MY SECRET
WOMEN DO NOT HAVE NAMES
WHO PLAYS ONLY GAMES?
iF WISDOM [ETHEREAL] DIED
WHO COULD MEASURE OUR SIGHS
WHEN WOMEN MELT
MEN PHOSPHOURESCENT
AND AFTERWARD
SAY
WHAT A HIGH TIDE
A MAN UNZIPS
TAKES A ****
THEN SKATES
A MAN URINATES
PLANTS A TREE
CHOPS IT DOWN
A MAN MAKES A DRINK
WOMAN THROWS UP IN THE SINK
TAKE A CARE
DESTROY DESPAIR
WHAT IS NAME
WHAT IS NAME
YES PLEASE
TAKE YOUR NAME
MULTIPLY BY THREE
DIVIDE BY 2.5
HAVE JIVE
DESTROY
CREATE
PROCREATE
RECREATE
CREATE AGAIN
WRONG
RIGHT LEFT
PUT YOUR SOCKS ON YOUR EARS
CAPITALISE ON FEARS
SELL YOUR SCENT
FOR DETERGERENT
WORDS WE CANNOT SPELL
RULE DAY TO DAY
THINGS WE CANNOT SMELL
RUN RUN AWAY
AWAY
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 3:01 AM UTC
They're ******** the lid down
on the old town
and
I'm feeling the pinch.
It's a cinch that
I'll go too,
who else but me would
they
want to *****
But they're barking up
the wrong tree.
I am the procession of Saints passing by
the sinners that make the Angels sigh
the low and the high and
why
would they want to *****
me down too?
You have seen it on the scoreboard
Demon-one
Lord-nil
you've had your fill of being used and accused
it's time for the night to be fused with the day, for
the Angels to step up to the mark
and say,
'fuck this for a lark,
ain't nobody turning my town into a carpark'
Put your Posi drives down or go and
unscrew some other old town
time for the pigeons to come home and roost.
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 2:02 PM UTC