'honeys' poems - Hello Poetry

LylexRose Sep 2018

Legionary

LylexRose Sep 2018

The long time coming now awaits...
Let's ride fast, let's make haste
Got the hoodie pulled up cos I wear no face...
Now let the ladies sing cos I need to concentrate...

This year I've come so far, walking over broken glass has left me scarred, I've understood what it's like to cry, not saying my life was hard, I'm saying it's different to what to you'd expect, but when I out here on the streets you know I don't beg for respect, made my music with feeling of everything building up going though my head, lost songs through mistakes I've made, and I know when you think at the end of the day when life seems that it's all to much just know to look too the light and focus on the music instead, cos I come from a place we're grey skies dominate the streets, when these rain drops fall on your face waiting for a deal to go down, you know it feels so empty just walking around my hometown, just know I've been called sheltered and know it's the ******* they talk when they don't understand the feelings of feeling like you're drowning....

I know it's going down, good lord...
Riding my pace through town...
Attracting the honeys when I sing it loud...
It's time I unwound, feeling kinda aroused, hope it don't affect the sound of my crowd...

Now the streets lights seem to change colour when you see them through my faded eyes, my face shaded out waiting for the man to sell the green so I can get high, let the smoke clear out just so I can see the horizon, it's funny some people don't get it, like they don't understand it, like to dress like a baller but barely making a grand, but just know this music pushed through the space in my mind, destroyed my depression, to my fans I show no oppression, if the music's a little serious then my life is a comedy session, the people I grew with have gone now, have moved along, made they're own path, looking back at me I guess they don't understand that, I been through a dark place, face to face, living with my real family but still feels like I'm being chased, dug myself into grave that I just can't climb out of, they say that fortune favours the brave and I don't need no ladder, don't need to pray, because only God knows I can make it myself, you know I used to never have a say, that never did things my way but now I got a chance to up and leave or change the game if I stay....

I know it's going down, good lord...
Riding my pace through town...
Attracting the honeys when I sing it loud...
It's time I unwound, feeling kinda aroused, hope it don't affect the sound of my crowd...

Let's just listen to the people speak, but ain't backing me up, they say my future looks bleak, so walk with me and we could be something great you see, I've been told at the root of all evil is something illegal but if you say that then you've never seen **** I've had to deal with, deal it, steal it, this is where the war is, it's why I rap for this ****, so everyone hear can my stories, you don't seem to believe this, I'll whisper it in your ear "this is what work is" and now you all this is how I found my purpose, now let ears do the work, feel no more hurt, used getting beaten, hiding blood stains on my shirt, but anybody wanna know when I take the 10th to the back, knock this ***** with a slap, give him a quick text, show off my face acrawl into his room, I'd **** anyone; for this music I have to protect, waking up covered in blood, smiling down at you and Ill whisper in your ear, you're next!...

I know it's going down, good lord...
Riding my pace through town...
Attracting the honeys when I sing it loud...
It's time I unwound, feeling kinda aroused, hope it don't affect the sound of my crowd...

Showing these MC'S whose boss, all these other MC'S are lost, all these other MC'S have had enough, all these other MC'S get turned to dust and we all feel the familiar feeling of disgust, all these little people I can here you shout, when I look at my life all I see is devout, to the help I've had, they say the thing that it isn't chosen is family, so would it be a funny thing I disagree, smoking a spliff whilst clutching to the smell of the voice of tenessee whiskey, I'm leaving in 5 but I've been doing this since I was 14, acting like I make bank but struggling behind the curtins, it's a sad thing to see, that I'm just a kid with mummy issues and is a lyrical genius, wanna stand in my shoes, fine but I'm just a boy with a dream whose come so far it's seems like he's losing his passion and forgetting his dreams, it's a shame to see it's ******* I've lost nothing, but I'm only still discovering and it's a shame to see that everybody who was about when this boy has amounted to nothing going full bearded better know I'm never showing stubble, I'm in outer space just ask Hubble, soaring through stars living out of the bubble, gold wearing and smells like coffee, melting my relationships like toffee and with my feet at the cliffside I just wished it didn't end awfully...

I know it's going down, good lord...
Riding my pace through town...
Attracting the honeys when I sing it loud...
It's time I unwound, feeling kinda aroused, hope it don't affect the sound of my crowd...

When you think you're lost, keep your eyes to the sky and keep marching on...

#lylerose #rap #lyrics #music #life #satire #death

DRPQ Jan 2015

honeys dear

DRPQ Jan 2015

honeys dear

when it comes to holding honeys dear,

if only i stopped reading your name clear.

though i have not thought about,

what amounts to your smiling pouts,

what our hearts used to shout,

my do I have a doubt.

a voice could steal a part of me,

the darkest of me,

what i chose to behold,

what i have lost to the cold,

what keeps on moulding me

into the person i’m supposed to be.

love, when it comes to holding you dear,

without your hand so near,

it takes all my power,

all my might— along with every fright,

to keep you in sight.

though i do not recall,

our quiet walks in the mall,

or even the reason why i fall,

i still shiver

i still shiver when i try to hold you dear,

you, without a voice in my ear,

encouraging me, “please!”

“won’t you hold me, dear?”

i will hold my honeys dear,

even without a sight of you clear.

eatin crepe at a crepe cafe' led me to write this
due to my forlorn soul

#dear #honeys

Lenore Lux Dec 2014

Well Endowed Honeys

Lenore Lux Dec 2014

Well Endowed Honeys

Love them well endowed honeys and this
ain't about just the rounded mounds of the chest
or the way that her thighs fold into her ****
but the love, present in her touch and her mug
as she smiles while maybe hiding behind violently
built walls that rise with spikes to ward off her demons
she brings to the Earth through her grace in the face of madness
a slight slice of the gladness that I can't see in most
to be alive, she sings even if silently for growth and respite
and when she moves along the sidewalk her body is robust
a presence of happiness in the gray womb of this tomb of a city she saves
Does she look like a fool to you for walking
determined and turned on despite the burden on her shoulders that's placed
there with its infinite weight by the masses
not tuned to the channel of faith and the rapture
of the world that she holds boldly in her,
they say that the images she captures offends
and if she wants to fit in, she'll have to give in
and be the frequency all see in the set top glass now plastic
wrapped up faces in glasses demanding she
prance like in the mirror for the sanctity of their ethics
But she flows and she knows her energies better than
these TV profits believe they believe or really ever can,
well endowed, respectful and proud of the strengths in her very nature
and if she knows not then she will, and if she gives in
she'll be half drowned and likely rise for the ****
She is a meat and emotion, a piece of history and more in the making
and I love her. All of her.

#beautiful #strength #power #courage #pride #women #honeys

Ai Oct 2010

Riot Act, April 29, 1992

Ai

Riot Act, April 29, 1992

I'm going out and get something.
I don't know what.
I don't care.
Whatever's out there, I'm going to get it.
Look in those shop windows at boxes
and boxes of Reeboks and Nikes
to make me fly through the air
like Michael Jordan
like Magic.
While I'm up there, I see Spike Lee.
Looks like he's flying too
straight through the glass
that separates me
from the virtual reality
I watch everyday on TV.
I know the difference between
what it is and what it isn't.
Just because I can't touch it
doesn't mean it isn't real.
All I have to do is smash the screen,
reach in and take what I want.
Break out of prison.
South Central *****'s newly risen
from the night of living dead,
but this time he lives,
he gets to give the zombies
a taste of their own medicine.
Open wide and let me in,
or else I'll set your world on fire,
but you pretend that you don't hear.
You haven't heard the word is coming down
like the hammer of the gun
of this black son, locked out of this big house,
while ***** looks out the window and sees only smoke.
***** doesn't see anything else,
not because he can't,
but because he won't.
He'd rather hear me talking about mo' money,
mo' honeys and gold chains
and see me carrying my favorite things
from looted stores
than admit that underneath my Raider's cap,
the aftermath is staring back
unblinking through the camera's lens,
courtesy of CNN,
my arms loaded with boxes of shoes
that I will sell at the swap meet
to make a few cents on the declining dollar.
And if I destroy myself
and my neighborhood
"ain't nobody's business, if I do,"
but the police are knocking hard
at my door
and before I can open it,
they break it down
and drag me in the yard.
They take me in to be processed and charged,
to await trial,
while Americans forget
the day the wealth finally trickled down
to the rest of us.

Madeleine Toerne Feb 2015

Individually wrapped honeys

Madeleine Toerne Feb 2015

Individually wrapped honeys

I'm a student so I'm kinda sitting on the toilet
looking out the window in the one of the "centers."
There is this Anselly-Adams snow surrounded pond
in the view but it is all hazed and glazed over from
some fumes. The steamy, heating types.
The fumes are making the view all convoluted.
It is kind of cool but also grosses me out and makes me
feel space-cadety.
Anyway, I see one of my hot babe friends down
below. He is the size of an ant--from my vantage point,
at least. He's wearing a long grey-black pea coat
and combat boots and he's walking with mad purpose.
Like he's about to do something mad important.
And he probably is. He might be picking up his
amp, or going to buy a cup of coffee from the cafe, or going to
play chess with another equally hot babe and
talk about astro-physics.
Whatever he does, I'm guessing there will be a
mild to medium byproduct of disdain, you
know, as a principle.

I felt rather disdainful, today, actually, if you
want to know.
It was because of individually wrapped honeys
(I am NOT talking about small, packaged beautiful ladies).
It is such a waste.
Condense the honey into one container.
Also, not everyone uses the same amount of honey.
Don't lump us together like that, multi-million
dollar food suppliers.

laura Jul 2018

another grade A angst poem

laura Jul 2018

another grade A angst poem

you did, all across the hallway
on the bathroom floor
and on the glass shower door
eye shadows flooded like the money
in your bank account baby

fake love hip swing under palm trees
land of milk and honeys
you did, yeah, that's how american women do it
it's what makes you human
it's what makes you beautiful

vulnerable, lost, all over the internet
and you did it for a BSN
all the while they tell you you're beautiful

beth fwoah dream Sep 2015

the honeys of a lost sky

beth fwoah dream Sep 2015

the honeys of a lost sky

where the breeze blows
more softly than
a river flowing to the sea,
where my heart hums
its strangest melodies.

#you #loving

Akira Chinen May 2016

Gold of Honeys Blood

Akira Chinen May 2016

Gold of Honeys Blood

Bodies made of honey
Souls rebuilding Kubla Khan
Hearts dripping sweetness
Pulsing gold blood through
Endless rivers of piety
Deep in the chasms
Of forbidden fidelity
A dream made and undisturbed
Between the soft and silky folds
Of sinew and quintessence
Along the edge of primrose path
Trembling hands did stich
Vivacity to consciousness
And gods of nectar pith
Did decree no act of love
Even those of
lewd and shameful tendrils
Could be spoken of as a wickedness
Your whispers rapturous delight
Made thunder bloom and devil cry
As your fingers lightning
Galvanized the rage within the chambers of my heart
As crested waves did beat and pound
The tissue of my temperament
My soul capsized within did drown
And sank through depths unknown to man
A sinuous dance to madness called
And as Eden and leaf do fade and grieve
In this pulsing gold of honeys blood
By Moira I am bound to stay
Eternity a plaything
Of our love
Free to pleasure of endless flow
No thought or act a sin
Worlds collide and every moons heart do palpitate
To watch the stars rewrite the history of flame
As we walk and burn the surface of the sun with our feet
And our bodies cooled by its flickering tounges of fire
Our two hearts forged to one
And beat a song of huricanes
Engulfing and extinguish its blaze to the core
Collapsing the suns immortal heart
Planets swallowed to the vehemence birth of the black hole left behind
And we swim effortlessly from its rend and tear and pull
The universe ours to make a new
Your name makes ever gods lip quiver
And their eyes jealous and envious in heart
And they dare not speak to you as any less than their queen
In this place where you have
Become the beauty and light
And sun and heart
Of love itself
I am no king
Nothing more than
A feeble fool
Under the gaze of
Forevers sunset and eternities sunrise in the infintie blue seas
Choreographed in your eyes
Just a broken toy
Left to the care and disposition of your whim
To be played with
Or left to gather dust on your shelf
Yours and yours alone
Imprisoned in this resin pulse of gold
Favored by fate
To wear these blissful chains
No desire
Other than to walk
Naked through your incandescent souls scintillating luster
My love for you infused to immortality
My heart to suffer
To spare yours pain
My souls black blood and quill
To write song and prose
Of your pure truth bloomed
Here pulsating in honeycomb rivers flow
My entirety burned to this purpose and desire
My only act to walk through these flames
Only existing to be consumed by the blaze
And to live in your fire

mark john junor Sep 2014

her tenderness has no fences

mark john junor Sep 2014

her tenderness has no fences

the promise that her tenderness has no fences
made her linger on my mind
like a rough bottle of fine wine
and as the evening rolled back daylights clutter of thoughts in my head
that smile she flashed me came back to kiss my heart
it came with such delight sparking in her sweet eyes
that i just felt myself drowning in the moment with such wanton joys
made me illustrious by her soft-spoken side
made me happy to be alive...

once the sullen girl in baggy sweat pants and pink slippers
dragging a bag full of noisesome beatnik romances
she has grown to love freedoms road
cast aside such tin-plated gods and rough-house boys
that a pretty boy isn't a man if he wont make a stand
found herself holding a wishing well coin
and a map showing paradises shores
and came down to find me again....

sitting in a coffee house full of lost voices
full of magazine honeys chilling before the big break finds em
listening to the sounds of heartbreak in glasses chatter
and waiting for a road that made sense to me
when she walked back into my life
like a rough bottle of fine wine
like a candlelight evening with true loves joys
i will be here forever know that now
florida moon-surfing
holding her in my arms
breathing the magic that is her
exploring her romances

(dedicated my friend dean and his girl mary who i wrote this poem about)

#glasses #fences #soft-spoken #coffee-shop #pretty-girl #tin-boy

c Sep 2019

Catching Honeys Being Fly

c Sep 2019

Catching Honeys Being Fly

You call me pretty like it’s nothing
Good-looking when you don’t mean it
Honey on the fly trap
Keeping me sugar sweet stuck

#words #love #pretty #good #looks #meaning #honey #trap #sweet #stuck

Wíštfûł Wáñdêręr Apr 2014

Terms of Endearment

Wíštfûł Wáñdêręr Apr 2014

Terms of Endearment

We need to speak more in
terms of endearment.

More honeys, darlings
sweeties and dears
don't appear to be important
but they are.

Love can be so subtlely
slipped into conversation
by simply placing a
term of endearment
after the phrase
you wish to say.

I'm tired tonight, dear.
versus
I'm tired tonight.

*There is no comparison!

Darren Edsel Wilson Jan 2017

The Whispers of Dead Dreams...

Darren Edsel Wilson Jan 2017

The Whispers of Dead Dreams...

So many hopes have
been laid to rest,
snuggling tight and cozy
where all dead dreams lie.

There wasn't even time to say goodbye.
Oh, my fighting spirit is now a sleeping spirit.
It doesn't wake to sweet smell of fancy,
to the buzzing of bees and all manner of honeys,
no.
It lies dead in the gutter,
or should I say,
asleep.

The only hope I have left, is to lie of the pain.
To wish away the wash of bitter taste
and lie away the bodies of thought and waste.
I have died too many times to count the carnage
and how I massacred myself,
past, present and future,
there is no more potential,
there is now just a rein
lying slack for lack of force,
the beast was too burdened...

There is a constant whispering.
Voices from a place I dare not venture.
My hands are bent and scarred, like twisted puppets.
How can I mend these broken dreams?
I can no longer traverse the seams,
now torn
beyond are the hopes I knew.
How do I mend the horses?

Is it not the hand of God that restores life
to dead things?
Why do his hands look like mine?
If I do not believe in myself,
how might I believe in him?

As a popular Youtuber put it:
"What is life?"
LOL
It seems the only question worth asking and worth an answer anymore. What would we even do with the answer? You've got to think about that. Is the answer worth anything?

I keep saying in my head, "God, I can only believe in you if you show up right here, right now." If he's not showing up, it surely means he doesn't want to. Maybe that means I'm a scumbag...

If you're one of those people who's been living for so long not knowing what you need, yet knowing you need something, I feel your pain. I think I'll write a poem about that next.

I hope you've enjoyed this poem.

DEW

James G Paul Sr aka Pablo Jul 2013

A Taste of Heaven...

James G Paul Sr aka Pablo Jul 2013

A Taste of Heaven...

were you a 50's
godchild in the city,
wing-tipped feet
running the streets
all week, ketchin hell...
then you gots that check
come friday
and needed a taste of heaven...

you and the dog pound
swung mid-town
to broadway & 47th
after 9,
and joined the line spilling
from the royal roost round 48th...

by 10, the joint was jammed
with gents well-coifed,
matching honeys, and the sounds
of money being made:

chime of silverware ~ cling,
and the cash register's ~ swish cha-ching,
and the chatter of guests,
servers and bartenders
doing their thing ~ wah da bing

then the lights dimmed
leaving a semi-dark haze
of gray smoke swirling
over the crowd,
and mc symphony sid
grabbed the mike:

"...welcome to the friday nite jam session
at the metropolitan bopera house
ladies and gentlemen...."

hysterical hoots and applause
followed
as  the circular spotlight paused
center stage,
unveiling:

~ the miles davis nonet ~

featuring,
max on drums,
john on keys,
gerry and lee on sax
and a genius
on trumpet

'twas the birth of cool
and soon the rhapsody
of modern jazz
waxed hypnotic,
casting a spell
over god's children
when budo chased lady bird
down allen's alley,
spittin'...
          riffin'....
boppin'...,
          poppin'.....
superfluidity
like acid through
varicosed veins

the earth stood still
it seemed
for 4 thrilling hours
as heaven rained a rifftide
onto the lucky crowd...

and dewey's sublime trumpet
exorcised the devil
from the week that was...

~ P (Pablo)
(7/24/2013)

- for Miles Dewey Davis III

— The End —