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2%
Hank Helman Mar 2020
2%
Stop.

Stop clutching your stomach
When you think everyone is watching.

Stop escalating, spreading *******,
Unscientific Trump talk, ignorance isn't a gift.

Stop worrying. A 2% death rate. That's it.
Yes-- if we have to,
We will set up temporary hospitals in Walmart parking lots.

Stop watching. The news has one objective.
To sell ads. Fear is it's only priority.
Constant fear means constant commercials.
Fear is a form of elite control. The 1% want you
To be afraid every hour of every day.

Stop fearing death.
It is the only common experience
That we have.
It is natural, it will happen to you,
And to I,
And to your parents,
Your children,
Your pets and plants,
The tires on your bike.

Nobody knows what comes next.
So stay in the now.
Which isn't really the now,
But it's close.
You live all your life
About a half second in the past,
Which is close enough
Not
To fear anything ever again.

Stop your silence. You do have something to say.
An opinion.
Yes you do.
So vote for the world you want,
Not the one we are leaving behind
3
Hank Helman Mar 27
3
I believe in science, evolution, matter can neither
Be created nor destroyed.
I have the t-shirts, I follow astronomy,
James Webb, quarks, neutrinos, black holes as giant bathtub drains,
And ok, string theory is a bit of a stretch.

But for 3 billion years all of life on earth was single cell creatures,
That got along.
We cooperated with one another,
Shared the space,
A gentle *** bump was as harsh as we got.

We can do it. We have the know how.
Deep inside of all of us,
We just wanna dance.
We can do it.
Yes we can.
31
Hank Helman Oct 2020
31
Name tell me all these things that you fear,
Alone, no one home, the shadows appear,
Maybe ghosts have been chatting about your demise
The neighbourhood witches, the ones you despise.

The moon wanders full across demon filled skies
They giggle and cackle and tell naughty lies,
This is the time when all spirits clash
It's  Halloween night, home quick in a dash.
its a scary time.. life is meant to be this way?
Hank Helman Nov 2022
I am yes alone,
With cold wandering cage eyes,
My time has ended.
Remember my best moment,
Hold my hand as I smile tears.
Seppuku. Ritual suicide. The death poem was usually created just before the sword was plunged into the abdomen. Syllables 5-7-5-7-7-
Hank Helman Feb 2021
Why is love, my only pain,
My heart in hostage, forever vain,
Sadness masks behind my smile,
My life a juried, senseless trial.

For love is often just an ache,
To not perhaps a life mistake,
Is nothing more than nothing less,
As always, life is just a guess.
Do you understand love? I don't. hh
Hank Helman Nov 2020
I remember dropping acid,
While lying on my back
On an angel-kissed pebble beach,
On a lost Greek island
At dawn.

Acid isn't always pleasant.
But rarely fatal.


First life intensified.
All of it.
Colours brightened,
Shades multiplied,
Patterns spoke.
The wing, the feather, the claw, the beak,
Precision.

How correct things were,
How decisive evolution was,
How ******* huge our balloon had become.

And yet,
Somehow,
The universe,
All of it,
Fit comfortably inside
My small cathedral head.

Smells recreated whole episodes from my past,
The spaghetti dinner my aunt made me eat.
I threw it up in the backyard minutes later,
Because the noodles looked like worms,
Mashed potatoes and gravy,
Cotton Candy, the music of a carnival
The twenty seven hours of stalled birth as my mother's legs
Were strapped together until a doctor could be found.

I time traveled, memories appeared in 3-D,

Taste was ****** and social,
*** was irrelevant,
Hate impossible,
Death humbled and genuflect

Hallucinogenics.

Is this how we learn to be kind.
Hank Helman Apr 2016
I’m lost.
Inside a conversation
With a ghost,
Who keeps a case of beer,
On my back porch,
Year round.


I struggle.
With his take,
On things.
At best, he says, you perish in a fury,
His mouth a fresh full fill,
Raw oysters topped on spice baked kelp.

I wait.
To hear the worst.
His pause is theatre 101,
All fog and drama,
Ephemeral guest,
Sweet mist and ****.

I lean.
Against our red rose sun,
The window warm from spring to fall,
My back porch home a hobby now,
The worst he says, in adagio,
Is drudgery, no end at all.
What prevents all of us from starting over, running the world in a completely different way, experimenting with new choices. Lennon's Imagine as our anthem. Dead too soon by the dark hands.
Hank Helman Oct 2019
What is time,
Where does it flow,
Your kiss was here
Only moments ago.

Your laugh, your love,
Assigned to the past,
Your smile a ghost
Leaves me aghast.

What trick is time,
A one way *****,
Climb up, not down,
Harsh misanthrope.

Gone now this one
Who made me whole,
Time's rude gift,
A hollowed soul.
We cannot fear death our stoic fate. Love now, love long, it's not too late. Goodbye my love.
Hank Helman May 2021
I asked my father for life advice.

He said form alliances not friends.

I asked what the difference was, is.

Alliances last he said,

And turned the key to start the car.
Hank Helman Oct 2023
We die smiling,
Absolutely sure we got away
With everything,
Until we realize,
That death is at best, a sleep,
And we will awake,
Rub our eyes,
Eager to start all over again.
Hank Helman Dec 2023
Fear not, the end of mortal quest,
Death is but a midterm test,
There is no judgment, no re-frame,
A simple sleep and wake again.
Hank Helman Jan 2016
I want to be thin as a whisper,
To be feline and ****, a cat with long whiskers,
To have length and width but no depth at all,
Not one bit of fat and to walk model tall,
I’ll take drugs, gobble Kleenex, drink only weak tea
Whatever it takes, to not ever be me.

I want to be loved like a pillow, feathered and light,
Held close to your cheek, cuddled all night,
To be soft squished and moulded into all kinds of lovers,
A prop up, a padding, a bump under the covers,
A cushion encased in a bright burst of stars,
I can’t wait to be normal, I’m slightly bizarre.

I want to be lost in crowd of loud celebration,
To be swept up and away in a mass of flirtation,
To be jostled and felt up, the hands of rude strangers,
A joyous outburst, wet kissing ex-changers,
To abandon my will, flee from restraint,
I can’t be, I could be, I am what I ain't.
re-post--  I'm so tired of greed and Trump and the pure absurdity of this never ending presidential quest. We have 15000 nuclear weapons--  just three of them could destabilize the climate enough to cause our own extinction. And yet grown men and one woman argue about packing children onto cattle cars and throwing them away like garbage.  So I  write nonsense and stare at my screen and wonder if there are better ways to have ***. Perhaps while hanging off the balcony?? I am the problem I complain about.
Hank Helman Dec 2023
Sadness in the ink of night,
Memories restless soon take flight,
Night time is my darkest joy,
Time is just  a tic tok ploy.

Dreams that linger, friendships gone,
Carefree days had smiles and song.
I've lived a life that makes me think,
And now I sleep close to the brink.
We are not alone in this life. But the longer you live the more alone you will become. Memories help us to accept the unavoidable. Keep your pics near and look at them often.
And
Hank Helman Jan 5
And
I love you is now meaningless.

I trust you means everything.

And I do.
There is a bright sun today. A cold, dry winter shrugs and nods off. Goes back to sleep. Maybe one life is enough after all.
Hank Helman Apr 2016
One of a billion, so empty and thin,
The breath of a child can make me begin,
A bloat to a bubble, soon free off the ring,
Up into a breeze, not really a thing,
Oily bright colours, a slip woozy shape
I dance on the wind and make my escape.

Bold children chase, big eyes and quick giggles,
I snag grandpa’s nose and it gives a wiggle.
The snoozing old man so out unaware
He’s forgotten the girl with red ribbon hair.
She’s about to be snatched, hands intertwine,
I sting papa’s eyes and he wakes just in time.
He calls his granddaughter, the man slips away,
Bubbles, soap bubbles, were angels today.
My grandmother used to tell me bubbles were angels invisible. Each time one popped a good deed was done. She was a poet with no pen. rip. hh
Hank Helman Oct 2023
Anti-vaxxer nonsense,
The silly,ignorant, dumb.
Selfish fright-filled sheeple,
Beating on the drum.

Science says the rescue,
Is simple, just a poke,
Anti-vax  deniers,
Think your life's a joke
Hank Helman Jul 2020
We ate apples until midnight.

Carrie bought a gadget.

It hollows out the core,
While at the same time
Infusing the castrated fruit
With up to 4 ounces of
The liquid of our choice.

*****.

After two apples each,
We lay down side by side.

On the lawn chairs
That were parallel parked at the far end of the screened-in porch.

Turned off all the lights,
And felt sad.
Drunk sad.

I told Carrie I was glad my mother was dead.
I was. I am.

Carrie told me she stole five thousand from her aunt.
The woman who raised her after her mother
Abandoned her,
In a Goodwill stroller
Outside the bakery.
The waft of fresh baked bread is still her favourite smell.

It was all the money she had. The aunt.


How do we atone for all this evil **** we do,
Carrie asked me just before dawn.

We'd smoked a joint.
And the sizzle came quick
The wind died a sudden death,
The trees went hush quiet
And it was if God himself was waiting to hear the answer.

Do the next right thing, I said,
And closed my eyes

The Frozen philosophy, Carrie replied. She smiled.


Carrie put her hands behind her head and
I kissed her.
We teased,
*** or sleep, drunk or ******.
I felt her up a bit.

Eventually our arms padlocked around each other.
Puzzle pieces joined together,
Until the crows objected
And started to bark.

The morning sun slapped us
Adding assault to insult,
The heat had a punch,
The temperature rose straight up and mean.

Finally the hornets
Morning fresh, buzzed out of their nest,
And wigged through the air,
Like tiny drones
And chased us indoors.
Can we ever repent. Or should our sins be tattooed on our backs. For all to see.
Hank Helman Mar 19
Windows open night and day,
Snow melts into waterways,
I breathe fresh air, a rich bouquet,
A time to laugh, my child at play.
I'm up and down, in and out. This moment my poet is drawn out. I am a child is so many ways.
Are
Hank Helman Aug 2018
Are
Are you innocent?
Confused and abused,
Contused and blue bruised,
But wrongly accused,
Are you innocent?

Are you guilty?
Shame masks disdain,
Maybe pain is your game,
The shuffle and blame,
Are you guilty?

Are you happy?
A smile mixed with guile,
Juvenile and free style,
Everything so worthwhile,
Are you happy?

Are you free, now?
Sweet tweets bleep your sleep,
Keep all that you reap,
Desire anchored so deep,
Are you free,now?
Hank Helman Feb 2016
The pleasure of an argument
Is the change from right to wrong.
So sure, so firm when first begun,
Now where do I belong.

I started no, then maybe so,
Before long I agree,
Up is down, a smile a frown,
Is non, peut-etre, oui.

I hear, I feel, the yin, the yang
Of every point of view,
Let’s argue for a paradise,
Where all-everything is true.
playful poetry --  I love to argue and I find it fascinating when someone changes my mind-  A debate or argument must start with both parties agreeing that their minds can or may be changed-- if not then it's just a shouting match. I find when I change my opinion I grow or at least become more tolerant. Let's argue well but get along better is the point of the poem--     hh
At
Hank Helman Sep 2023
At
Can you Tik Tok a shuffle,
Facebook a thread,
Instagram a selfie,
Tweet that you are dead.

Can you strike up a conversation,
Nod at those unknown,
Talk kindly to a stranger,
Ignore a ringing phone.

Can you love a friend forever
Remember days gone by,
Reach out for a smile,
Stop searching for the why.
Hank Helman Jun 2021
Who would you be if you could not be,
A reflection of yourself.

You'd look in the mirror, maybe get nearer,
And **** you're a cute little elf.

Or maybe its hazy and you're feeling crazy,
So you snap your fingers out loud.

And before you know it,you don't want to blow it,
You're a witch with her head in a shroud.

The thing that you can't be, the thing that is unfree,
You'll never guess how many have tried,

Is the you that you were, your past you defer,
There's no going back, it's denied.
Enjoy your day as much as possible.
Hank Helman Feb 2022
I forgot to tie my shoes
On a Tuesday afternoon.
And I stumbled out the door,
On my way to Saskatoon.

I banged my knee and ankle
And cursed the lord in vain.
Life has so many bright spots
I really can't complain.
Is there anyone from the start up days still here?
Bar
Hank Helman Mar 2021
Bar
A man walked into a bar,

'Ouch' he said, 'who put that there."

A woman was watching and snapped her fingers.

'It's time to raise the bar,' she said,

And forty swordsmen on pure white horses appeared.

'More', she shouted as loud as she could.

And forty pistol packing mamas on motorcycles appeared.

'I need a drink', the man said

'Let's belly up to the bar," the woman said.

And that's the story of two people being called to the bar.
I haven't been to a bar in a year...hh
Hank Helman Oct 2019
Karla called me at 2 a.m.
Define love, she said without preamble,
Or introduction,
And in her vox humilus morning coffee voice.

Well I'd love to sleep right through the night, I replied,
And waited,
Hopelessly,disappointingly
For the snort.

Karla,
A woman who howls  at knock knock jokes,
Can absorb sarcasm like a coral reef sponge,
Consume it, digest it,
And spit it out like tobacco juice,
Held her breath and counted to ten.

Give me a one sentence definition , she demanded,
Try and convince me, she said.

Well love is when we take responsibility for the
Happiness of another, I said,
And searched my darkened bedside table,
For what I knew was a nearly full
Bottle of beer,
Which I, of course,
Lifted to my lips,
Despite the fly floating on its back.

Karla was silent.
Not unusual.
'Conversation is not a contest' is stenciled
On her Sunday T-shirt and
She never cries.
Out-loud.

So love is pain, she finally replied.

Did she die, I asked her feather soft.

Yes, minutes ago,she replied.

Come by, I said,
We will take a bath,
Drink from the bottle,
And reminisce with the lights off,
For as long as it takes.
Knock knock
Who is there?
I smell mop.
I smell mop who.
Ew!

Joke from the interweb
Hank Helman Aug 2015
Carla kept nudging me to learn Italian.
It is the language of lovers and liars she said, life’s two best friends,
Discipline yourself, it will teach you to sing, she offered,
Each phrase a lyric, a seduction,
It will give you an unfair advantage over younger men, she promised,
Tickle her ear with this tongue and she will shiver and unfold,
Her heart, her knees unlocked.

Italian is a calculate of rhythm, Carla suggested,
Every woman understands timing and phase,
Our life is nothing but cycles for god’s sakes,
How have you not understood this?

It is the lingua of fair play, she continued, each syllable an equal citizen,
A dialect with an innate sense of justice,
Women are as intrigued by its possibilities,
As they are by threat and danger,
Either of which you can no longer promise.

Tell a woman you love her in Italian,
Ti amo più respiro, I love you more than breath,
And her ******* will disappear,
She won’t be able to take her eyes off your lips,
And as we all know, your mouth is your hook,
Your irresistible smile, the pout, the persuasion.

You are a poet, a miracle I know,
Your words are narcotic when you put your mind to it,
I’ve heard you quell an unruly crowd;
Your resonant tone could soothe a pack of ravenous jackals.

But with that intricate face of yours,
Your accumulating age, the leather wrinkles,
Believe me, you will soon need to help to ****** even a photograph.
Enlist, become Italian, Carla told me, it is your only hope,
And she tossed the last of her wine onto the sand,
Watched the red stain saturate and fade,
And lay back to face the sun.
Hank Helman Nov 2015
She asked me to whisper.
Come close, she said, and kiss my hair,
Draw my waist to you with a firm hand,
Tempt me with your gift of phrase.

Before I give in, and I will, she said,
Before you begin to undo my buttons, my belt, my wiry clasps,
I want you to handcuff me with a twist of thought out loud,
And make me eager to risk all for love.

Enlist the moon, our friend, she said,
Under his pale shine make my silvery skin shiver,
Offer me an outrage, she begged,

Your words, as they always do, will ignite an unstoppable fuse,
And before your breath tingles my ear,
Before your lips brazen the naked curve of my neck
And rise the hairs on it,
Before your tongue is welcomed into my curious mouth,
Initiate me with intimate details,
Dampen me with clues.

What do you imagine when you are alone, she asked,
Forlorn under a wool-worn blanket with only a handful of regrets,
In your dreams, she insisted,  
Have I danced naked for your friends,
Have I opened and aroused myself at the kitchen table for your early amusement,
Have I watched you eat hot buttered raisin toast,
And orgasmed for you, a loud cry, your coffee still warm,

Ask anything she said,
Do you want me to lift my skirt in a public place,
Wink overtly at other men, and brush them with the back of my hand,
Would you like to tie my arms,
Bend me over the table, slap my *** with your moist palm,
Enter me with rough words and a plea to pull my hair,

Do you want a nun, a naughty neighbour,
An innocent with red cheeks and a look of surprise,
Instruct me, tell me how to misbehave,
Whisper all my names, all the ones you’ve given me,
Make me into two, or three or a thousand

Explore each inside way
And teach me what you crave in immense detail.
There is nothing I won’t do for you, she said
Your wishes, we will inhabit them together.
I love you willfully, unconditionally, she said
It is my way.
Beg
Hank Helman Aug 2018
Beg
I asked if crying would help?

She said no.

I suggested lying perhaps?

She said no.

Then dying it is and I opened the window.

So, what are you waiting for, she asked.
it's late and I'm playing with words again. I love words. And birds. And turds. And herds of nerds who think in thirds. Say good night Hank. Night.
Hank Helman Dec 2020
If you cry, no one will see your tears.

If you wail, no one will hear your scream.

If you fear, no one will smell your sweat.

If you pray, no one will listen to your heart.

You are alone.

In a universe of a billion worlds.

You are all alone.
Bit
Hank Helman May 2018
Bit
I promised myself to never write when I was depressed.
And then I realized I would never write again.

So yes, sadness has its flavour, a taste acquired,
Like all the finer things in life,
A bit of bitter often brides us better,
The sweet of things misleads and makes us dull,

So yes,we have arrived to suffer, to ask and persevere,
Our fate is not to believe but to become,
We are God in the making, we are the design.
So little time.
Its rainy and summer cold and I needed to write. Do others feel that way? Like if you don't write something you are going to explode? Or collapse? Or disappear?
Hank Helman Oct 2020
I like a woman who stays up late at night,
Darkness more than a simple lack of light,
And in the hour when desires ignite,
We repeat our sweet afternoon delight,
Full now we can't take even one more bite.
Bass playing in the background, tap tap tap.
Hank Helman Dec 2020
So we begin.
The age of artificial intelligence.

Blockchain.
The rich will find a way around it.

Robots
One will be your lover.

Your face recognized,
Your identity, your transgressions,
Your every parking ticket on view

The Thought-Police will know everything.
You will not die from disease.
They will all be cured.

You will not work.
You will not be needed,
In any real way.

Peasants and overlords again.

Alien slaves, slaves to aliens.

Multi-verse.

Our entire universe
Exists within the single brain cell
Of who?

It doesn't matter.
Stop caring.

Explore love and tolerance.
They won't exist much longer
Hank Helman Sep 2019
They ate supper in her bed.
After they ******.
After he'd come. And she'd come. And then he came again.

She could do that to him.
Make him rise to the occasion.
All it took was a slip of the tongue,
A soft palm and a true story
Told in a calm voice.

It was love, yes it was, pure and private,
And a warm dinner
Served on mismatched blue china plates,
Cozy kiln fired coffee mugs,
Filled with lemon water and a single ice cube,
*** toy cluttered night stand,
A massive rubber **** suction-cupped to the bedside table,
The perfect *******, eternal and soft-hard.

No one can look away from a hard ****, she said,
A large half empty bottle of Swiss Navy,
The slick residue still
Slim on their hands and slip-n-slide
Between the cheeks of her ***.

Naked knees fused together,
A limp ***** asleep like a pet,
Weather vane *******,
Her **** in obvious disagreement,
The counterfeit independence of twins
And pointing in different directions,


Their concentration for the moment was
On their food,
As a knife and fork Morse Code,
Replaced their unusual banter,
And playful conversation.

Pillows littered the bedroom floor
Her  three cats languished,
Imperial, marble eyed and  yawning
Like ill mannered, bored and arrogant guests,
Impervious to time and place,
Hang-arounds too impolite to acknowledge
The party was over,
Say goodnight
And go.
Been awhile
Hank Helman Nov 2019
We have to talk about the bomb.
The atom bomb.

I know you are not worried.
But you should be.

You don't know about the bomb.
Oh sure you're aware, sort of,
That we killed,
One hundred and fifty thousand
Japanese civilians
In a heartbeat.

Like instantly.

But those bombs were toys.
Compared to the **** we have now.

So if y-o-u have the staying power,
This is what happens.
When we drop a nuclear bomb
Over a major city.

The bomb detonates
Between 1 to 4 kilometers
Above the city.

In order to maximize death and destruction.

Yes, that's how military leaders think.
Maximum death.

First everyone on the ground
Goes blind
That's how powerful the flash is.

Then a rain of heat, millions of degrees,
Followed by fire,
Destroys everything
In a mile radius,

Like ******* everything,

People, buildings, power lines,
Police cars, the homeless
Churches, playgrounds,
Sports stadiums,
Grocery stores,'
***** houses,
Daycare centers and more.

But that's only the beginning.

Then comes the 500 m.p.h. wind
You don't know what a 500 m.p.h. can do.
So here are some thoughts.

Buildings are hurricane proofed
Up to a max of 300 mph.

Goodbye to every structure
Within the radius.

This wind will peel the pavement
Off the roads.

The rubble you walk across,
Because there isn't any city left
Will be fifty feet deep.

This all happens in seconds.
Like no ****, you could go out
And walk around
Five minutes
After the blast,
And have a ****,
Although it might be difficult
To find a coffee shop and hang.

But we are not done.

Then the fallout
Fallout is all the **** and debris and particles
Like the powdery concrete,
From a collapsed Trump Tower,
Or the ionized particle from inside the bomb
That gets swept up and
Pushed high into the sky,
The mushroom cloud,
Where it drifts whichever way
God tells it too.

And it's all radioactive.

Which means what?

Radioactive means all the little particles
En masse,
Are spitting radiation.

What the **** is radiation?

Well when you are sitting on the beach,
Watching the nearly naked, frolic and frenzy
That little sunburn you get
Is the sun radiating you.
Transferring its energy to you,
Until you look like a twizzler. ( red licorice).

And you know how sometimes
When the military is putting on a show,
And some young soldier flops over
From the heat?
That's an effect of radiation.

Nuclear bombs radiate like mother-*******.
The sun in your backyard kind of ****
But nuclear bomb radioactive particles aren't hot.
Or even warm.
They are fairies,
With
Their electrons messed up
From the explosion,
And they can ride God's wind for hundreds of miles.

And when one of those little ionized buggers
Finds you,
Goes right through your skin,
Goes through most everything
Until it whizzes by a cell,
Where it stops in,
Has a house wrecking party,
Where you lose your hair,
And everything else,
And you die,
Because all your cells get confused.
(Think cancer treatment on steroids for
a hundred miles in every direction)

So when we elect a psychopath,
Who cannot think,
Cannot reason,
Cannot project
Has neither empathy
Or sympathy,
Is uneducated,
Slow thinker,
Greedy as ****
And not very bright
He has about
2000 of these to play with.

Seriously?
Hank Helman Oct 2023
When an atom bomb detonates
First there is white light,
A truly blinding flash of god,
For miles and miles.


Then comes heat.
The center of the sun
Tens of millions of degrees
In all directions.

Then fire.
Everyone is dead, burned alive,
Within
A half mile of the blast
Yes everyone.

Every building burns
Every tree ignites
Everything is cinder crisp.

Then a 500 mile an hour wind
In all directions
Yes 500 mph.

Radiation.

This is where we are.
Hank Helman Mar 2017
The ice has turned into sickles,
Glass daggers,
Witch's fingers pointing straight down,
As if to tell me,
The only escape is that way,
Straight down.

Everything gets pulled back to the center,
God replaced by gravity, neither seen or proved,
Each a belief at its core.
One an apple eaten,
The other an apple in free fall,
Until now to our delight,
There are Apples for us all.

Boom.
two minute poetry--  just  needed to connect with the world. We are in free fall and a real, huge , military war is coming. We can't stop ourselves. I am sorry, so sorry. I could have done more.
Hank Helman Dec 2023
I don't want to be happy,
It's a selfish pursuit,
I'd rather be helpful,
Like a firm fitting boot.

Stable and caring,
With a sole that endures,
Laced up and ready,
A steadfast that assures.
A wise man told me to stop pursuing happiness. The meaning of life was to make things better, not to make me feel better. It stuck.
Hank Helman Dec 2020
What is the purpose of life, he asked.

To create meaning where there is none, she answered.

So there is no God, he asked

Not yet, she answered.
Hank Helman Aug 2016
When Hector and Virginia moved onto the acreage,
Beneath and hidden under
The broad smile of a couple who had finally made it,
They felt the shadow of disappointment,
That always comes with the realization of a dream.

Of course at first,
There was the excitement.
Small explosions of rat-ta-tat conversation,
As they walked the outline of a house with a big back porch,
The back and forth as they
Chose a spot and then another and another
For the dog’s kennel,
The smile and sigh
As they scooped up the black earth
And dirtied their city hands and manicured fingernails,
Imagining a real garden with six foot corn.

And now, Hector couldn’t keep his hands off her.
On the day the sale closed he seduced her in the van,
While parked at Safeway,
The security guard had to ask them to leave,
And Virginia couldn’t resist flashing him her ***** and a smile,
Which the guard nervously thanked her for.  

When on their first visit to their new land,
Virginia suggested a lover’s hammock with a view of the valley,
Hector embraced her standing up,
Her hands raw against the rough bark of the big oak,
The wild approval of coyote howls as their pheromones
Announced a new predator had arrived, a new competitor in play.

He was constantly feeling her up outdoors,
Begging her to go *******,
Mostly so he could lather the sunscreen,
Over her *******,
Arousing in her some Paleolithic urge,
That made her brazenly offer herself on all fours.

An unspoken ' wanna’ from either one of them,
Just a look really,
Sometimes right in the middle
Of some earnest discussion about money or bylaws
And they’d make for the mattress in the trailer.
Their performance loud and operatic,
Jesus, they could have used bull horns
And not disturbed a neighbour or a passerby.

So it was hard to understand the dark border
That discoloured the edge and frame of their beautiful dream.
It was everything they wanted,
But getting it,
Left a tiny bubble of disappointment
That neither of them,
Could understand or accurately describe.

The house got built; the dogs loved the smells of danger and freedom,
The vegetables grew with astonishing speed and ease.
The *** was daily if not twice
And Hector became a pro at going down on her,
Licking her to multiple *******
In the unlikeliest of places and at the most unusual of times.

What is it, Virginia asked him one day.
I’m not sure, Hector replied and began to pull gently on his ear lobe,
A sure sign he was holding back,
I’m restless he finally admitted and I don’t like it.
I get it, Virginia replied,
We found paradise and we‘re getting bored with it.

What the hell is wrong with us, Hector asked and let go of his earlobe.
We die no matter what we achieve, Virginia replied,
And I think it is this unforgettable realization,
This Garden of Eden knowledge,
That it all ends no matter what.
That everyone dies and disappears
Means death will always undermine happiness, she said.

So what do we do, Hector was mentally ******* her again.
**** as often as we can, she said
And accept sadness as our most natural state of mind.
To be sad is to be normal, Hector asked.
To be sad is inevitable, Virginia responded, it cannot be avoided,  
And she knelt down in front him.
****** is evolution's greatest gift. Have them often. Have them repeatedly, have them with everyone you possibly can. Free the ****** from religious guilt and modern bigotry. Have one right now. Have one while you eat toast and read the news. Have one Sunday morning before church, have one outdoors, have one while watching Donald Trump lie cheat and steal, have one with Jesus watching-- he would approve.
Hank Helman Dec 2020
I had been listening to the bullfrogs for hours.
It was three a.m. and they were loud.
I was standing on the side of the road.
Two lane highway.
Hitch-hiking

I was desperate.
No sorry I was ******.
I get the two confused.

I hadn't seen a car in over an hour.
I would cross over to what ever direction
The headlights were coming from,
And stick my thumb out.

I just wanted a ride.
Hank Helman Oct 2023
Maja wanted to party.
Pachanga and rage,
Yodel see oooma and tunnel sing.

No alcohol she said,
A stupid juice, no switchin' lanes.

We dance tonight, she said, macarena, gigging,
A grind fest, dry ******* on a stanky leg,
Be ****** and true.

The word spread.
By 11 p.m. a thousand isadoras from Devon,
Mud sharks and ****,
Everybody smigglin' and dimplin' out.

We only have this day, Maja said,
So we bustamove and shuffle.
Tonight. All night.
And we rallied.
Hank Helman Jun 2020
When I kissed you,
With open eyes,
I was not expecting,
Such a pleasant surprise.

Soft lips, plump pout,
**** sounds when you breathe out,
Bodies press, ******* flatten,
Buttons yield, belts unfasten.

It isn't love,
Such a mystery tour,
But so divine,
Love's first lure.
New relationships can be so electric. Why is novelty so tempting. Also thank you for the likes... I posted by mistake before I finished so it was very kind of people to acknowledge. thank you
Can
Hank Helman Jan 2021
Can
It can't be

That I will spend an entire life,
Begging for love,
Confused by anger,
Afraid of frowns,
Eager to blame,
Bored with myself,
And
Waking up dead,

Can it?
I tried to sneak up on myself. Tip toed. Didn't work.
Hank Helman Apr 2021
We have only one terror,
An early companion,
Our fear of death,
Is our eternal canyon.

One slip or stumble
And life is over,
Even the careful
Get handed over.

Immortality perhaps,
Is found only in fame,
Heroes live for ever,
The rest of us abstain.
Cap
Hank Helman Oct 2018
Cap
I've lost the connection to my voice,
I can no longer hear myself think,
A man with a cap full of change,
Told me I might be dead and unaware.

Is that what death is, I asked him.
The moment you pause and realize
You are infinitely alone,
No others ever in the room.

Look around he said,
You've scripted each and every outcome,
Your frosty choices and slavish needs,
And now regret... how sour and sad.
Tuesday is always a sad day for some reason. You?
Hank Helman Sep 2023
For three billion years we all got along,
A single cell dance party chanting one song,

Constant cooperation and pulling your weight,
No time for scheming, an amazing birthrate.

For three billion years we shared and we grew,
Until one sunny day, one cell became two.

Competition now was life's driving force
Winning, the strongest, marriage and divorce.

But never forget how full it began.
Cooperation was our most successful game plan.
Hank Helman Oct 2019
Dance lessons began at six p.m.

Martha said she would come,
And then,
At the last second
She bailed…
And sent her friend,
The soprano who lives above her,
The wild one with the parrot,
Who sunbathes in her underwear,
As her replacement.

My name is Alexandra the friend said
And offered me her hand to kiss.

Then I will expect great things from you, I replied,
And drew her body close to me
In a nose to nose, cha-cha embrace.

Are you always so obvious,
She asked me,
Especially in this day and age.

I am a defiant breed I replied,
A man who truly loves to dance.
Has anyone hitchhiked in the last year?
Hank Helman Mar 2021
What has life taught,
What message spins,
Does evil have
A twice evil twin.

The greed and the fear,
The lust is to win,
Does all torment stop,
When true love begins.

God doesn't cry,
In His chagrin,
He waits for us patiently
To search from within.
Hank Helman Jan 12
I asked chatgpt to write me a poem about death and to make it happy. Below

In shadows'embrace, a dance unseen,
Where sunsets fade, and stars convene,
A journey's end, a tranquil flight,
Through veils of time, toward gentle night.

No sorrow lingers, only grace,
As whispers echo in death's embrace.
The weary soul finds sweet release,
In realms where joy and sorrows cease.

A tapestry woven, threads unfold,
In realms unknown, a story told.
For in the circle of life's grand scheme,
Death, a serene and joyous dream.
Don't like the realms x2 but not bad. Thoughts?
Hank Helman Jan 12
Amidst the dawn, where sun-kissed dreams take flight,
First love emerges, tender, pure, and bright.
In youthful hearts, a melody takes hold,
A sonnet's verse, where emotions unfold.

With hesitant steps, we dance the unknown,
A waltz of feelings, beautifully grown.
In every glance, a world anew is spun,
A tale of hearts entwined, two becoming one.

Soft whispers linger in the moonlit air,
As stars bear witness to a love so rare.
The touch of hands, a gentle, sweet caress,
Ignites a flame, a passion to confess.

Oh, first love, like a sonnet finely penned,
In every beat, a timeless love, transcendent.
ok no more chatgpt for now. we are in a new age of creativity. I think it is exciting.
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