Out to Lunch

Out to Lunch

By jfarrell


You see….


I pass you your fries and burger and grab your drink;

But, I am so not here;



Arms, legs…. other bits…

All auto pilot; sorry;

Like Clark Kent stuck in the phone booth

You don’t see me;

You see what’s left behind.


As I give you your diet cola with extra ice…


I am in some imaginary battleground;

Orcs, dragons, dinosaurs, elves;

Humans…. ATTENTION, lunch is served;

Diving in and out of foxholes;

Crawling low as I can through muck;

Tossing a few fragment grenades

And commanding my pet dinosaurs to flank the enemy;

Having a dwarf’s axe bury itself so close to my head

I no longer the long haired rocker I was,

But being a skinhead seems to make me look tougher

The alliance run from me in terror…


“so, 2 burgers, 3 small fries, and 4 colas (1 with with extra ice)….”



Where did the dragon come from?

Cheating putin-paid-russian- better than us European players (maybe?)

If you believe we lose Alterac Valley so much,

Because Alliance are all Russian hackers….

I dunno, maybe horde is really that bad.

Let’s be honest….

We wanna chop someone’s head off now,

Not waste 10 minutes discussing tactics…


“that’ll be £12.58… any doughnuts?….

Or our vanilla triple whipped cream, crammed with goodies, milkshake, on special offer…..



Horde win again




“Thank you sir, would you like a receipt?

And, please enjoy the game.”

With a big shiney smile as I hand you your receipt and change;


Move on to the next customer.


If it is YOU I am serving,

I am SO sorry, I mean no discourtesy or disrespect;

I am out to lunch

And have been a very, very long time.


And all my battles have a rocking sound track;

From the earliest blues, I am THE Crossroads;

To “take my hand;

Off to never-never land”


The “blues brothers” tell me, I’m guilty;

And sting says “we’re starting up a brand new day.”

Dire straits gave me a six-blade knife (my secret weapon);


“two thousand zero zero, party over,

“we’re out of time”.. Prince is a LEGEND (sorry)


I hand the next customer his hotdog, with extra stuff on top;

Sorry, but, I not here;

Out to lunch… please leave a message at the beep

And, enjoy your stay :-)




Author's Notes/Comments: 

since i started writing poems recently and putting them here....

Stephen has really encouraged me a lot

i just wanted to say thanx :-)

and i hope you all enjoy the music :-)


View suicideslug's Full Portfolio

Homeless at 18

I have a friend, Jose,

Who often times washes his face

With a 40 in the morning.

And I have another friend,

The reverend,

And on Sunday evening

We bow for food to his name.

But lastly there is the claw,

Who walks closely behind us all.

He grins at us in our shelter home

On the abandoned city street,

And sneers

At our fears;

We stand

In the sands

And the ocean.

I am an extreme

And we

Are the sons of John Wilkes Booth.

Of evil and a weight, not liberty.

My face is caked.

My fingers, they shake.

Jose screams in his sleep.

All we can do

Is listen.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Now that you've read my poem please review it.  Thanks.

View andrewprout's Full Portfolio

Blue Jay

Blue jay,

how do you fair?

Soring skys so blue,

how do you dare.

Singing such tones,

knowing Nothing,

but every shade of your hue.



View millyardo's Full Portfolio

*Mystical Color*

Sept-28-2003 1:40pm 
Trisha M. Barrek Hopkins

Reds oranges yellows and some green 
So bright and beautiful 
A cover of leaves paint the ground 
The gorgeous color covers every seam 


So quite so peaceful 
Birds cherping and making thier nest as winters call 
Mysticle and Sightful 
Magical colors comes every fall 


Mother natures awesome creation 
Different colors through out the nation 
But sadly it only comes only once a year 
Before the winters cold chilly call 
A silence outside you'll hear 
Until you go in the leaves to have a ball 
Before you know it The snow will begin to fall 


White glisten ice covers the outdoor floor 
Just sitting there snuggled up so calm and peaceful 
I dont want to leave 
I want it to come more 
I wish you could look through my eyes and see 
What i have stuck in my memory 
I get to experience this glory i wish you were here with me 
This mysticle color comes after September 
I wish I could always store 
The colors I always want to remember 



Life’s Journey For Mr. Crow

Poor old Mr. Crow slowly walking down the road
you can’t use your wings because you’ve gotten too old

    You got blisters on your feet and it gives you the blues
 never understood why birds had no shoes
Cars and trucks keep passing you by
 throwing dust in your face and making you cry

You hold your head low with broken pride
 if only you had thumbs you could hitch a ride


    Just hang in there old friend
Life’s journey is  just around the  bend

You’ll make it to heaven and life will be complete
with a new pair of wings and clouds for those old tired  feet
John Gabriel ©

View johngabriel's Full Portfolio

Just Passed Heaven

Down at the bottom where the darkness sleeps,
there's wayward souls and they're reaching for me.
Beneath the surface where the Devil reigns,
he's eying me up and he's fitting my chains.

Just passed heaven, I'll be drunk at the bar.
Tell Saint Peter I can't get in that car.
There's broken angels calling out for a tune,
Cause lord knows heaven don't got the blues.

Christ don't judge me, hell, he just understands,
he splits old wounds and I drink the blood from his hands.
Compare the broken hearts that we wear on our sleeve,
He says he'll heal me if I'll only believe.

But the devil wants me on the road that he paved,
makes a living on the souls can't be saved.
Wine is fine, and even better when free,
But Satan's a whiskey man, just like me.

View daylitmoon's Full Portfolio


I'm full to the brim, with that lonely again.
Whiskey genie trades wishes for all of my sins.
I've all but forgotten where I set the mark,
And I only will seek you out after the dark.

The rot of the city, still stinging my nose.
Sow seeds in the gutter to see what it grows.
Worry plucks branches from family trees,
We bless all the infants and throw them to sea.

Lonesome takes root in my ivory bones,
my heart-deals are calling in all of their loans.
How great the depression is weighing on me,
They're selling my penance, salvation's not free.

To get by, I put up with worry and strife,
evicted heart's fire, and slept with his wife.
Her secrets she told me, I'll take to my grave,
That some of us truly aren't meant to be saved.

View daylitmoon's Full Portfolio