Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
mark john junor Dec 2013
the waiting in hallways
lined up on the wall
with eyes following the chatterbox and her
flowing train of rabid listeners
who hang themselves ritualisticly on her
shallow water illustrations
swimming on this thin tide of unpublished lip candy
her bubblegum words are commentary
upon which her followers build temples
to the unfit mothers of televangelists
the chatterbox spills her loud thoughts
on the sun warmed concrete
as the summer lawnmower navigates
around santa and his late december reindeer
and the children's labyrinth of christams morning plans
while i sunbath nearby
she gathers her spilled thoughts
and races away proudly proclaiming that'
my poems are too short for the pulitzer
so she is ready for her laurels
and a fast road to academia
with a neatly packaged version of her inner perversions
spread like *** and lip candy
on the local coffee shop bookshelf's
for the pretty college girl with glasses to drink from
its about my ex...who laughed when she read it.
Robin Carretti Aug 2018
A special lace-like card
  *
        *        *        *
Three Star points
       *  *  *
Sword-like smile-Bored-Hike pile-
Western Union Man
Money flies like Superman

Spinning wheel fan too guard
Special words have no regard
He's the Adonis-like the
Lazarus lovely-like Venus
Those effects in motion
That special tip above her lips
Steady as they go but motionless
The stars walk across her
sky lifted dress

Heavenly Pillsbury flour
Her hair flower no water
Smile Lift even in debt
Messed her heart so red
White light disaster
Nothing on this earth
we got to lose no control
Here's the *Special Rose

Winter/Sunglow hair
The Flatiron

A spaceship cowardly lion
Your the "Wildcat"
Crazy Oats
Space waves of the neutron
The dream on
Your eyes are blind
A clear day special motif
setting inside your
Word heading leaf
He lifts up your
blinds all
righteous minds

Those special love hands
Nothing was ever
staged starlight and bright
  Never yellow

Winter?Sun
It blocked out
my *Godly
pages
On the good earth leaf
Helen Keller had the
good remedy family
When you are deaf
A green touch of
brown leafs
What you smell and feel
What's truly there
special beliefs

Or at the most
Famous Cemetery,
You got blinded  so
gilded star
you don't
see them

One of a kind that's him
Or the encounters of the
third kind Winter/Sun
The darkness slim-man-run

The cactus desert of my heartlands

Jack of all Trader Joes investments
My E-book and I Phone
best T-bone steak
Spices of theVegetarian Kingdom
Curry in a hurry for Indian Food,
E-T Extra
Terrestrial Space high bill total

ABC Chemical love reaction
A special motif so personnel
"Divine District Attorney"

Taking spiritual love
what lies beneath us
Lotus Tea Panda Bears
Of Journeys
Pyramid or the myriad

A-Special Motif
comes to me
Two Gods surrender me
message
Something you feel but
it's unknown
Never left in the dark
like a treasure
Teeth chatter Gold caps
Chatterbox
Almost happy coffee
almost dark

Too many famous labels
A special romance new leaf
Time change challenging
Winter sun/Wonder fun
Amarous open chorus
Special maid devious
A special Motif delicious
The honest lawyer
Special talent space
of braces
Subsequently or coincidentally

What was special
The board meetings like *Erasers
?
To erase all the special places
in my heart

Dark despair trail parted
Ending up with a trail
of mixed nuts
Cars such a pain with
Synthetic Oil ****** -like Oil

The conjuring or searing
Holding the leaf in spirit
special times remembering
Sapphire September October
Comfort foods November
Thanksgiving
The heartburn living
The Winter/Sun
Special motif holding onto
his one brilliant leaf in
Ancient Egyptian King of Tut
book

*
Yearning the solemn vows
The full moon is
turning a
new leaf
The painted picture leaf
special Motif

Love so committed
The time was omitted
Family poor or rich
Invitation *Winter Sun


Those who are in need
The beacon like a
poem of goodies mend

Heaven that feeling
called my own
Even things that
are special
became unknown
Not always about
being famous

Things that are simple
that's what remains
precious eat sleep Jeep
The fairy came sweet nectar deep
Was so kind humanly rare find
A special note with a motif
I will never forget what was our belief
A special God or Motif a spiritual beauty her leaf but even when you are deaf you can smell the beauty lingering everyone is  work of beauty just living
Valsa George May 2016
Unexpected…..
So unexpected was the meeting
It was in the dim candle light
of a city restaurant that I saw her
How time had etched its marks on her
The long dark curly hair
has turned all white
The even set of pearly teeth
now discolored with missing gaps.
A weeping willow with gnarled branches!

Did she recognize me?
Her searching eyes registered
a limp awareness
Soon I saw her cataract eyes shining
in unclouded recognition!

My memory like the arm of a crane
lowered to plough up the hard crust of the past
and rose with heaps of broken rubble
I nosedived into the past
to the little village
where, as children we ran round
the long necked shady trees
until our little heads went dizzy

Stealing behind the tall grass
how I would suddenly yell out;
‘The thief is in hide
Come and track me if you can’
forcing on her an arduous search,
all the while giggling at her vain efforts!

How we ran after the ripe mangoes
that fell in ones and twos
when the winds shook the fruit laden boughs
and how we quarreled over the yellow ones
like mongrels over a piece of bone

I remember once when the drizzle
suddenly strengthened into a heavy down pour
with thunder and lightning accompanying,
how we ran dripping and frightened
seeking shelter in the empty cow shed
at the backyard of a house,
clasping tight to each other!
She was then a little girl
with springing feet and dancing steps
naïve and naughty with all mouth and ears

But as time skipped by
she kept a safe distance
No more I saw the former ebullience in her
In its place, a quiet reserve settled in
The chatterbox no more opened her mouth
To my questions, her answers were mono syllables
My efforts to walk by her side
always ended in futility
either she would quicken her gait
or lag behind at snail’s pace
Seeing me somewhere
she would walk away with eyes down cast
But I always noticed a faint smile
lingering on her curved narrow lips

Around it, I built my dream castle
where she reigned as my dazzling queen!
I am not sure how it was with her
One day even without an abrupt goodbye
I had to leave my hometown to an alien soil.

For long, she came, sailing in my dreams!

After a couple of years when I returned
to the land of my childhood
the mute witness to my unuttered passion
I knew from a close friend
that she was forced into a marriage
much to her consternation!
She is reported to have confided to someone
that she hoped the ‘thief who stole her heart
would one day, come out of hiding’

We met again
We heard each other’s cracked voice
and stood unable to recollect all

Much water had flown down
under the bridge
And we floated in the rush of currents!
This poem has to be understood in the light of the highly orthodox milieu of an Indian village of the time between 1960's and 70's when no computer or internet facility was available. There was a lot of segregation between the sexes and no free mingling was allowed. So there was no open expression of love. In a society where arranged marriage was preferred, even falling in love before marriage was seen as a taboo !
A Lopez Sep 2015
Some guy's
Won't realize.
Their word's can **** a woman
Just by the flick of their chatterbox.

Advice. Men always
Watch those nasty poisonous
Words, that slip from your
Nasty mouth's.

I'm not your kindest girl
I'll knock you
Out.
Renee  Jan 2015
Speechless
Renee Jan 2015
For the first time in his life,
he was speechless
not a word to say
A thought unformed,
a bell not rang
silently staring,
mouth agape
at the woman who made him think
in different ways

For the first time in her life,
she was speechless
to the woman who told her
she was beautiful
in so many different ways
she was speechless to the friends she had made
unable to formulate words,
chatterbox broken,
a record skipping

Like any other time in his life,
he was speechless,
not a word to say,
unforced words to people he'd never known
to people who don't care
until he's online,
with his fair share.

Like any other time in her life,
she was speechless,
but no,
not on paper,
her words flowed like a rushing river
but only on paper
to be unseen but to her.
softcomponent Mar 2014
I

Testing that nuclear feeling pulsating through my ventricles, a pain sour at top of my genitals in the area above the ***** dr's call the pelvis
it hurts for no such reasons; mysterious numbness to the pain as it aches and yet it is only a suppressed fear of cancer, the dr checked my prostate jamming finger in ******* n twisting like a diamond fairy-- perhaps nicer not jammed in my ******, but this is 'the nature of the examination'

nature, nurture, I am suffocating myself in her addicted presence, regardless of how much I may love her she was cuddled next to me last night before slipping into a gasp-snore sleep and the ****** intrusive evil thought came to me-- wat if i took this lighter and singed her hair or her skin and fer sakes I scared myself, the same way I scare myself after watching documentaries on serial killers and wondering, so wondering, 'that could be me- the killer- torchering stray cats with infected syringe, binding its legs with an unwound coat-hanger and tossing it off a bridge-- and then years later I pick-up a hitch-hiker and ******* him against his will, slit his throat to keep him bound in the loss-progress of forgotten history'

this 10 mg escitalopram oxalate / i cannot tell if it is working / but my head is a pill and the dr agreed to prescribe me .5 mg xanax n maybe this is why i feel close to losing the mind in burn-ache-scare-myself-away /

II

I got a blood-test the other day, my way of praying to science to ask its all benevolence if I, perhaps, have ***, AIDS, chlamydia, godknowswat

immediately afterwards, I went home and read 3 articles on the Russian intervention in the Crimea as if it were my insanity civic doody

cracked-open my budget and calculated my debt to be somewhere in the $2,400 range n felt trapt and angry and unreal as if high-school is when time stopped and ever since I waste my life / spending it on money / money it on spending ******* /

i go to work, feel dead or mad already, as if 20 yrs is too late for me and it'll be one hell of a trip when I realize I've made it to 21, let alone 30

let alone 30

let alone *30


III

last night i begged her for ***, a remorseless evil pulsing thru my veins and no compassion save for some manipulative control of a dark-force--

she was sleeping, sleepy, woke up, i deliberately watched **** with the volume high to keep her up and guilty

she called me *pathetic
and it only hurt becuz I believed her and knew it

it spunnn outta control and into other vortextual matters of an unexpressed zeitgeist diatribe and she went as insane as me, threw my coconut oil at the wall in my bedroom when i insisted i sleep on the couch muttering to herself i feel like dying like killing myself like ending, if u *******, how can u ******* when u know i feel like this it makes no sense and it hurts and i call her one great-big-guilt-trip-lookin-pretty she insists on a slam-slouch next to the door and says i wanna listen to you ******* and i will i don't care we are both now in the grip of an evil cabin fever trapped in each others soulz and i become eviler as she becomes eviler, we look like madmen women to one another going tangent after tangent and in some sick sense realizing how petty and empty we must be to feel so petty and empty and expressive of a dark chill within us each a hot ember of hopeless cold firing the spot-team responsible for motivation and direction due to budget cuts of the soul

and by god i hate myself, and by god at times i hate her the same and the world but only as reflection to that dark chill within us

an empty chatterbox

IV

i wake up, write this poem, refuse to pop a xanax pill today and feel a gritty dirt rubbing thru my hert hertz heart

better, it's better, i love her

and yet there is that dark chill within us

an empty chatterbox
nivek  Jul 2016
Chatterbox
nivek Jul 2016
The radio talks incessantly, a chatterbox relative sat against the wall
never seen but always there, a constant stream of noise.
Every now and again something is said that catches your ear
and empties itself into your attempts at poetry, a muse, an education,
a place you had never been, or will be quite the same ever again.
Christian zeal Oct 2013
I know you usually talk but let me speak.
  Know you usually wanna be the better me.      You usually say something  but my ears are are weak.
Usually cause we argue bout the same old thing.
Talk about what? Your just gunna cut me off and then let me be.
But whatever here I am in hell and there you go burning me.
You can be  my angel you know... If you shut up and let me speak!
Man it hurts to know that I been looking at this mirror .... Speaking bout me
Taylor  Aug 2013
Chatterbox
Taylor Aug 2013
We talked
he and i about
all the reasons why you and i can't
talk anymore

we talked for a long time

I don't remember the last time we,
you and i, really
talked about things that weren't
relevant or recent

it's been a long time

We've been talking with our lips but
hardly ever in the way that
accomplishes things
or reveals things i didn't already know
about you or the things that matter to you

this silence is kind of deafening and my lips are feeling lost
i tried to talk the other day to you about me and us and our things
but i couldn't find the words
and so
the talking didn't last
and the space between my words got very large and heavy
and the tears between my eyelids got very large and heavy
and maybe even slipped out
once or twice

But we talked
he and i about
all the reasons why you and i can't
talk anymore

And I had lot's to say
I don't know how to make it better!
Robin Carretti Feb 2019
The London*
underground
Shoes Chatterbox
Choo Choo train
Mr. Earl Gray
Greyhound
Doing cartwheels
Head over heels

Milk the Cow
"Going Moo" in her
Jimmy Choo
Yahoos
Kickapoos
The Odd Mom
Cocker Doddle Doo
Goody Two shoes
'Peekapoo"

The women living
in her shoes
All Mighty God
  
The dog to chew
Her most expensive
shoe
Lasous
The genius
La Cruz

Goody two shoes
That's show biz
Vacation Dr. Seuss
John Hughes
The master of clues
La mousse
Love truce X-File

Instagram, please smile
In her ballet slippers
He's at the Hub
drinking beer
In the London Fog
Her wooden clogs

Ladybird chirper
He's down to his
goulashes?

Got sidetrack hot
fever lovesick
La muse shoes
Cozy at the caboose
Playing golf in the
Gulf of Mexico

You ain't got a thing
if you don't have
the shoes to swing
Kick up your shoes and
start to sing
This is a comedy of all Goodie two shoes tied into one find you we all own a pair of shoes and have some fun
C J Baxter Apr 2015
If I open it it will come spilling
tripping me choking me suffocating
this already breathless existence
that pours fear to dilute sense and
strengthen apprehension yes that
very one I gulp down each day
throwing it back up just to feast
on it once again in the endless
cycle of ****** torment that grows
swollen and engulfs my everyday
every hour every minute madness
where every second turning sickly and
cramming itself down my throat till the
clock breaks or I do usually me.
Today I sat alone eating lunch.
My furious eyes scanning
Relentlessly from table to table,
From couple to trio,quartet or-
Loner such as myself.

Looking for something...
in a whole new sense of the word-
Juicier...
Than my afternoon apple.

Today had all the usuals.
Yesterday's fatties were today's fatties.
Those who yester-took the role of chatterbox
Have shut-up and no play the role of an impatient listener.

The ******* congregate together in a huddle.
They address each other with a casual slur
That once meant something in a time of their ancestors.
And they stand about in a fashion
That serves only to make them appear larger than needed.
Adjusting their lopsided garments...
An example of a vain attempt to subscribe to human vanity.

I admire the loners with the headphones on.
Lost in their own world of music,
It's like the comforts of home-
A tiny invisible wall that goes
All the way around them.
They cannot see you, and so they know that none are watching.
...Except for me.
Me and the little game that I play|
While eating lunch.
:.

Today there is a woman.
She is...
Juicier.
Dressed with a pinstripe tie,
It accents her men's purple shirt.
She's wearing a nylon skirt,
It ends above her knees in a shimmer of plastic tassels.
|
She took off her dark green ballcap|...
She put her sandaled feet on the table|...
|...And winked at me
Serving as a reminder that,
Neither of us has anything better to do,
Than to play a game while eating lunch.
Claire Walters  Aug 2015
Cringe
Claire Walters Aug 2015
I hate that sound
It makes me cringe
Wild goose bumps come popping out of my skin
The hair on my arm sticks up
I turn away
But the sound of your chatterbox against his makes me wanna disappear
I'm not here
I don't wanna be
It's almost like you're cheating
But i know you're not
You were in love with another man
Only that's what I thought
Who knew what was going on in your head
How long have you been lying to yourself
And to others
I was foolish to think I believed the magic I was seeing
Ten years it went on
Then suddenly stopped
My world crumbling into pieces
It took forever to put it back together
Some pieces are lost and can't be found
But the damage you did could never be fixed
And that moment could never be forgotten
Now five years later
You went through guys like money flying out of your hands
But this one went on for a little longer
And the longer it went on
The pain I was dealing with kept coming on
It doesn't seem right
Even after  all these years
I miss the one man that stood by you through everything
But you let him go
You were stupid enough to let him go
Now it's every other weekend
Instead of everyday
Why in the world did you make it that way
So now there's only one thing I have to say
I hate those sounds that make me cringe
Divorce poem about my parents and my moms boyfriends that all had problems
Also btw just a shout out to Miley Cyrus from her song can't be tamed, I used one of her lines "I go through guys like money flying out my hands" so before you guys comment anything about plagiarizing just letting you know I didn't and I'm giving her creds

— The End —