Find false flags,
gasoline rags.
Light a spark.
Cross red lines
in territories marked.
Not so fast.
Hold the phone.
Peacekeeper
or terrorist?
Rule the world
with an iron fist.
The hand of fate,
legitimate
targets that
proliferate.
This is mine.
Don't cross that line.
Flesh and bone,
ownership,
testosterone -
shut up,
I can't take it,
leave me alone.
Telephones are melting minds,
digital waves are cooking brains.
Facebook is our judge and jury.
An old man is eating ice cream cones,
one after an another.
He is sniffing little girls hair
unaware that anyone is watching.
I think his strange demeanor
signals that he doesn’t care
about America, just the Ukraine -
maybe we should move there,
might be safer?
Idiots shout into their cellphones
and the whole world is now a telephone booth;
global warming is a dire warning
and apparently methane is the scourge of the earth.
We more responsible citizens
are just trying hard not to fart.
There's no reason to hold the phone
Insensitive breasts are well known
But B, C, or D
As long as they're free
They're like showing the dog a bone . . . .
Monday's not fun days
Clouds make gloomy face
Brittany got free
Tuesday rain a pain
Danny hovers close
Droplets hit the earth
Dusk, dawn, hold the phone
Wait, who calls today?
Type, type, text, who's next?
(References to Brittany Spears and Danny the tropical storm)
BUTTERNUT SQUASH
Butternut squash does it make people moan
Methinks I'm unique, methinks I'm alone
Each to his own
Hold the phone
Why am I different, will I be dethroned
Incoming ...
distress missive call
Hangups on the other side
of the continental divide cellular room
Mushroom sobs of insecurity
click end of volatile transmission
Redialitis sparks an emotional kaboom
Hold the phone ...
busy signal
blocks the aural unnecessary
audio carrying on
Listen to the sick, sad drone
of earworm infection
Party line frienemy chatter —
rumor skullduggery
lip shake the skeleton bones
Wireless ...
discredit babble cry is on the blame install
Wronged directory
sent bye-bye a phantom victimized 911 call
Hangups on the teary-eye side
of the bleary divide
Insecure tremors rattle the room
Situation report bleak ...
relationship on a carrier gloom
Moby D pigeon chirps want the last speak
Mushroom wails
spark splash a cellular kaboom
Hold the phone ...
fade-to-black signal
buries the raised decibel unnecessary
verbal carrying on
Silence transmits an air golden tone;
as needless, exhale worriations
of arrhythmic heart palpitations
get disconnected lung distance long
And the bad karma vibrations
beep off-the-tower power grid gone
In case of emergency,
pull the lever that
make the train stop
In a car, slam on the parking brakes;
if you’re a moving pedestrian,
halt and hail a cop
In a 911 situation ... hold the phone
During a surgical operation,
should something go wrong
Don’t panic!
Remember:
only crash dummies have plastic bones
Just in case of a nuclear meltdown,
if all the shelters are full ...
still find a way to get underground
You won’t have much time,
radiation poisoning is a drag
The survival clock is ticking,
countdown to a body bag
Just in case you missed the memo
Just in case you didn’t know:
don’t go getting Dumb and Dumber,
and eat the fallout yellow snow
Hello,
hold the phone
My girl Friday is here,
and the eagle has flown
Got an increase in my cash flow;
now I can do some things,
the weekend's here, lots of places to go
First I got to swing by my buddy's house,
find out what's coming in, what's going out
I'm holding all the cards,
got my hand on the kitty
Time to get hustling,
time to get real go gitty
Before the next move, gotta take a quick time out
and enjoy the sound
Cha-ching,
that's the sound that your pockets sing,
Cha-ching,
it's the sound of a cash register ring
Cha-ching,
I'm tapping on the glass ceiling with my bling-bling
I get to briefly see what the other side of life is like,
got me another chance to drop the mike
But I gotta move fast,
make the money last as long as I can
A poor man doesn't get to live the rich life often
Cha-ching,
oh yeah, look at what a little prosperity can bring
Cha-ching,
makes you wanna buy the big meal, and eat the whole thing
Cha-ching,
I love scratching the surface of the glass ceiling
with my newly bought diamond ring
It's Thursday afternoon,
there's a buzz in the office
about a memo sent straight from the top
Even before you read it,
you sense somethings's not right,
by the looks of that fidgety company cop
The memo said,
short and succinct:
Tomorrow you won't get paid
Hold the phone,
you better call the local precinct
There's some thievery going on I'm afraid
It's bad when you work,
and you don't get paid
It ain't good, no way, no how
It's bad when you work,
and you don't get paid
It's like being a muzzled ox chained to a plow
You didn't sign up to be no office slave
You're furious, and you need to vent
You're worried about where you're going to live,
if you're not able to pay the rent
It's hard to make ends meet with a bouncing check,
it's near impossible to try and move up
Working for nothing wasn't the career plan
You might as well be outside holding a cup
It's bad when you work,
and you don't get paid
It ain't good, no way, no how
It's bad when you work,
and you don't get paid
It's like being a muzzled ox chained to a plow
It's bad when you work,
and you don't get paid
Guess you're free to live in poverty now
A shaft of light penetrates my barely open eyes,the promise of a bright new day from an angel who lies,no reason for hope no happy ending up ahead, my eyelids reunite i'll just stay in bed but sleep is never easy since i tasted the forbidden fruit, i used to shoot to score now i score to shoot.
The nausia comes first closely followed by the headache, god i need to get better, answer the phone for christ's sake. dark clouds descend, i can barely hold the phone, just one more hit i promise, i dont want to die alone.Just one more hit i swear, to make the pain go away, just one more time's a promise i make myself every single day.
At last my prayers are answered,my knight in shining armour is waiting at my door but there are no fairytale endings for a dealer and a crack whore.I board the junkie express and mainline to the station, first stop euphoria last shop desperation.
I'd like to think i can be normal again, its the only thing that keeps me sane but once you've bought a ticket its hard to get off the train
elan vital
The elan vital in man or beast,
the noble spirit we see the least,
where hoarding dollars, makes IT glad?
Where persecution makes IT sad,
UNPRINCIPLED Vultures feast,
Nobility comes with a decent IT,
spiritual heights above the abyss,
a fall into darkness, aint the way,
be nice to 1 another hey,
or you aint worth your piss,
spirit into body, calls it home,
2 parts the spirit PLUS de instinct zone,
angered animal runs amok,
you caint control the smuck,
no complete control of this,
vim n vinegar 4 piss,
weak spirit hold the phone?
Don Johnson
Hold your horses,
hold your guns.
Give me time,
or give me love.
Let me breathe,
in my beliefs,
about oceans deep,
and clovers with 4 leaves.
Hold it in,
hold the phone,
Let’s be lovers,
not alone.
Hold your horses,
hold your guns.
Give me time,
or give me love.
Burnt by kist…
The burning kiss sets pants on fire,
Soon over come with heat desire,
No rhyme or reason we perspire,
Just takes one burning kiss,
The eyes do lock, no question there,
A first sweet kiss, we tremble, stare,
At once returned, fascination rare,
A heightened state of bliss,
Hold the phone cos we aint here,
Step up to own, yes you my dear,
Brain disordered, mumbling, *****,
Do you remember this,
Just takes one burning kiss,
Don Johnson
how the never mind,
sneaks up behind,
to harry confront thee,
the triggered thoughts,
amount to naught,
cos p.d. it is she....
Don
re: the p.d. "AM I"
Dumped and alone,
sure hold the phone,
i sailed that lonely sea,
to suffer, think you're all alone,
poor bloody johnson me. :)
shut up brain and let me be...
FATE?
Some say that retribution's fine,
high intervention seems divine.
The spark of lightning's suffered break,
no satisfaction do I take,
coincidence doth make this rhyme.
by vk4pr Don
Or how a knockers early 1990 8088, 10 megahertz computer got scorched
by lightening years ago when i was using Ham radio
a bit more often
Carolyn,
poor ole radio sits alone,
used to talk to my dad on it, i own,
recorded his stories on an ole reel tape,
perhaps frequency movie i can ape,
hope ya healthy happy babe, a going,
johnsons gone so hold the phone:)
on ya baba, love....Don
John Smith,
I annoyed a Ham, lightening hit his antennae mast,
scorched his modem and toway radio,what a blast,
jumped into the old xt computer box,
an blue the bejesus out of its socks,
onetimes not:)
MORAL don't pick on poor ole johnson:(
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