"contactless" poems - Hello Poetry

That pound means more to her Than it does to me She's got to feed her family A family of three ****** by the government And ******* by society This is what it's like To live in Blighty They've come here for a better life A second chance And a chance to survive No they're out On their own Just like a dog Without its bone ****** by the government And ******* by society This is what it's like To live in Blighty It's **** or be killed The rich feed the rich While the poor scape and beg All alone On a cardboard bed No change for you No not today I need my money Sorry love Not unless you accept contactless Or Apple Pay ****** by the government And ******* by society This is what it's like To live in Blighty

0

Mar 2, 2019

Mar 2, 2019 at 7:39 AM UTC

northernpoet

Blighty

That pound means more to her Than it does to me She's got to feed her family A family of three ****** by the government And ******* by society This is what it's like To live in Blighty They've come here for a better life A second chance And a chance to survive No they're out On their own Just like a dog Without its bone ****** by the government And ******* by society This is what it's like To live in Blighty It's **** or be killed The rich feed the rich While the poor scape and beg All alone On a cardboard bed No change for you No not today I need my money Sorry love Not unless you accept contactless Or Apple Pay ****** by the government And ******* by society This is what it's like To live in Blighty

34

Glitters and red meters givers and received perceivers usher the gift of illusionary display vision all the aspects of reality Signal the surreal posts on trees yank and spotlight my dreams walk and split the glass panels wagon us from societal ice Glitters and red masks course every vein of our being pour the red wine and misplace protrude every nautical sense Read my palm, contact the wizard grab my sight, take me to the moon contactless,eventful and tasteful contactless, easy and resourceful

0

Jul 12, 2016

Jul 12, 2016 at 4:49 AM UTC

SassyJ

The Glitter of the Red Wizards

Glitters and red meters givers and received perceivers usher the gift of illusionary display vision all the aspects of reality Signal the surreal posts on trees yank and spotlight my dreams walk and split the glass panels wagon us from societal ice Glitters and red masks course every vein of our being pour the red wine and misplace protrude every nautical sense Read my palm, contact the wizard grab my sight, take me to the moon contactless,eventful and tasteful contactless, easy and resourceful

16

Plastic fantastic Sits in my wallet Waiting for flirtatious contactless action. My personal details emanating constantly From my ruminating flexible friend, From my ruminating flexible foe. Never ending debt Leaves me a slave to a monetary master Piling on the debt faster and faster. Battered worn leather houses the card That screams a constant binary plea, Begging to be heard by an electric mate. I need to silence this traitor - This debt facilitator - But I'm hooked on its fleeting ability to buy me that which I do not need. My card constantly screams my personal data, Broadcasting 1s and 0s endlessly, Betraying and exploiting me through ruthless efficient binary.

0

Sep 11, 2018

Sep 11, 2018 at 6:58 PM UTC

eryri

My Card Constantly Screams

Plastic fantastic Sits in my wallet Waiting for flirtatious contactless action. My personal details emanating constantly From my ruminating flexible friend, From my ruminating flexible foe. Never ending debt Leaves me a slave to a monetary master Piling on the debt faster and faster. Battered worn leather houses the card That screams a constant binary plea, Begging to be heard by an electric mate. I need to silence this traitor - This debt facilitator - But I'm hooked on its fleeting ability to buy me that which I do not need. My card constantly screams my personal data, Broadcasting 1s and 0s endlessly, Betraying and exploiting me through ruthless efficient binary.

18

Contentless in a Contactless World

0

Apr 21, 2021

Apr 21, 2021 at 5:13 AM UTC

maria-etre

The Death of Muses

Contentless in a Contactless World

2

Today I went to London Town A city famed for its wealth and crown But the reality will make you frown There are no paths of gold here to be found But a sea of homelessness to drown Occasionally a passer-by bends down Chucking a coin in to a hat or cup As though they’d pick something dodgy up If they placed it in their hand But most walk by in a dreamland Pretending they don’t even exist Crossing the street on a pivotal twist A quick pirouette, ensures an inconvenient truth is missed Today I went to a matinee A luxury, a theatre play I traveled the train without a worry to pay Simply swiped my card the contactless way Indulged in a big meal out For fifty quid it was a reasonable shout While across the road is this girl hanging about And her dogs called Buster, I found out I gave her some change and the time of day Asked if I could stroke her dog, she said I may On the girls lap Buster lay Eyes wide, grateful for love I sent his way She needed twenty two pounds For a full week stay at the shelters grounds But the funds she said she never found “When I come back I’ll bring you a drink” She asked for hot chocolate I gladly agreed I called the Salvation Army where she said she’d be received Providing she had the money to leave My call was in a queue but nobody picked up I wanted to pay so she and Buster could snuggle up Somewhere warm, even for just a week So her ankle could heel and they’d get some sleep I walked to the corner where I promised that hot drink I looked around, took a double blink Buster and his owner where gone, before I had time to think Now I’m home in bed, heating on Hoping they are somewhere warm Praying that they gained some profit I never delivered the promised hot chocolate

0

Nov 16, 2017

Nov 16, 2017 at 7:17 PM UTC

kenya83

Buster and his Owner

Today I went to London Town A city famed for its wealth and crown But the reality will make you frown There are no paths of gold here to be found But a sea of homelessness to drown Occasionally a passer-by bends down Chucking a coin in to a hat or cup As though they’d pick something dodgy up If they placed it in their hand But most walk by in a dreamland Pretending they don’t even exist Crossing the street on a pivotal twist A quick pirouette, ensures an inconvenient truth is missed Today I went to a matinee A luxury, a theatre play I traveled the train without a worry to pay Simply swiped my card the contactless way Indulged in a big meal out For fifty quid it was a reasonable shout While across the road is this girl hanging about And her dogs called Buster, I found out I gave her some change and the time of day Asked if I could stroke her dog, she said I may On the girls lap Buster lay Eyes wide, grateful for love I sent his way She needed twenty two pounds For a full week stay at the shelters grounds But the funds she said she never found “When I come back I’ll bring you a drink” She asked for hot chocolate I gladly agreed I called the Salvation Army where she said she’d be received Providing she had the money to leave My call was in a queue but nobody picked up I wanted to pay so she and Buster could snuggle up Somewhere warm, even for just a week So her ankle could heel and they’d get some sleep I walked to the corner where I promised that hot drink I looked around, took a double blink Buster and his owner where gone, before I had time to think Now I’m home in bed, heating on Hoping they are somewhere warm Praying that they gained some profit I never delivered the promised hot chocolate

44

I'm in line at a store, and I'm bored, Typing on my phone, restless and alone. I’ve got light-blue nails, like the sky or your eyes. I like them, it’s my favorite color - don’t know why. I’m buying flavors for my coffee, nutmeg and pumpkin spice. I like having coffee in the morning, when it’s cold, they’ll taste nice. There’s a really old lady at the check-out, she’s moving very slowly. She’s paying with cash and coin, from a pouch, counting carefully. She’s frail and reminds me of my Grandmère, with her white hair, her sturdy shoes, I want to pick her up and hug her - but laissez-faire. When my turn came, I waved my Apple watch over the pay terminal - it’s fast and contactless - like the whole modern world. Does anyone hug old ladies anymore?

0

Nov 6, 2023

Nov 6, 2023 at 9:42 PM UTC

anaisvionet

checkout

I'm in line at a store, and I'm bored, Typing on my phone, restless and alone. I’ve got light-blue nails, like the sky or your eyes. I like them, it’s my favorite color - don’t know why. I’m buying flavors for my coffee, nutmeg and pumpkin spice. I like having coffee in the morning, when it’s cold, they’ll taste nice. There’s a really old lady at the check-out, she’s moving very slowly. She’s paying with cash and coin, from a pouch, counting carefully. She’s frail and reminds me of my Grandmère, with her white hair, her sturdy shoes, I want to pick her up and hug her - but laissez-faire. When my turn came, I waved my Apple watch over the pay terminal - it’s fast and contactless - like the whole modern world. Does anyone hug old ladies anymore?

13

( a mention to Bernardo Soares and the twenty one grams ) Preening? they're fuckin' dreaming. say, is contactless new? 'bout as new as old can be, people been contactless for years peers can't or won't acknowledge peers feeling it's better to be alone than to be herded like steers to the abattoir and that's how far it was thought out contactless? absolutely clueless as to what's going on, people getting on with the everyday task of, don't look I won't ask, ps I was told off for my use of offensive language, what the fuck's that all about? the only things offensive to me are the rich making riches from poverty, motor vehicles pumping out obituaries and people who complain about cigarettes, it sets me on fire as to why a swear word or two could make you feel so aggrieved. Those twenty one grams you lose in death? well some breathe them out with every word on each breath, but they're only peacocks getting their rocks off by complaining.

0

Jul 1, 2017

Jul 1, 2017 at 4:43 PM UTC

john-edward-smallshaw

Tail feathers

( a mention to Bernardo Soares and the twenty one grams ) Preening? they're fuckin' dreaming. say, is contactless new? 'bout as new as old can be, people been contactless for years peers can't or won't acknowledge peers feeling it's better to be alone than to be herded like steers to the abattoir and that's how far it was thought out contactless? absolutely clueless as to what's going on, people getting on with the everyday task of, don't look I won't ask, ps I was told off for my use of offensive language, what the fuck's that all about? the only things offensive to me are the rich making riches from poverty, motor vehicles pumping out obituaries and people who complain about cigarettes, it sets me on fire as to why a swear word or two could make you feel so aggrieved. Those twenty one grams you lose in death? well some breathe them out with every word on each breath, but they're only peacocks getting their rocks off by complaining.

43