#spur - Hello Poetry

Sometimes just the nod is enough to acknowledge the common struggle and to impart a spur - a spur to go on

0

Sep 8, 2021

Sep 8, 2021 at 7:20 AM UTC

stevejeff

Spur

Sometimes just the nod is enough to acknowledge the common struggle and to impart a spur - a spur to go on

7

avoid military service due to a bone spur for which there is no evidence have managed to tell an average of 16.5 lies per day since elected into office slander possible opponents and everybody else who has a different opinion divide their country at a time when unity were most desirable sets police on peaceful protesters just so they can pose for a photo-op before a church flaunting a bible but only for self-aggrandizement no prayer no empathy for those who suffer most the victims of racist violence the thousands of deaths from the pandemic caused by his delayed actions the 20 millions of unemployed people there are who are simply too incompetent to lead a country

0

Jun 5, 2020

Jun 5, 2020 at 2:28 PM UTC

wwhoelbling

people there are who ...

avoid military service due to a bone spur for which there is no evidence have managed to tell an average of 16.5 lies per day since elected into office slander possible opponents and everybody else who has a different opinion divide their country at a time when unity were most desirable sets police on peaceful protesters just so they can pose for a photo-op before a church flaunting a bible but only for self-aggrandizement no prayer no empathy for those who suffer most the victims of racist violence the thousands of deaths from the pandemic caused by his delayed actions the 20 millions of unemployed people there are who are simply too incompetent to lead a country

26

We are both shyly engaging with the madness on screen, distorted faces, screams from nowhere – I don‘t believe in hesitation, having always indulged in my impulsivity. Not used to waiting, calculating, anticipating. I was very careful not to let you sink in, although your teeth aren‘t very sharp. I don’t pay attention, I’m too focused now on how my arm is pressing against your shoulder – this golden halo that your touch casts onto the here-and-now; no moment can ever be insignificant again. Oh, it feels so nice to be with you, real nice. Makes me wanna travel all the distance from Tokyo right to your doorstep. Morning arrives with it’s awkward limbs that will be drowned in black coffee. Yesterday there seemed to be no more blue tomorrows, but now your eyes greet me and I don’t know what to say.

0

Jun 9, 2019

Jun 9, 2019 at 4:44 PM UTC

lispectorstreet

Hooking Up

We are both shyly engaging with the madness on screen, distorted faces, screams from nowhere – I don‘t believe in hesitation, having always indulged in my impulsivity. Not used to waiting, calculating, anticipating. I was very careful not to let you sink in, although your teeth aren‘t very sharp. I don’t pay attention, I’m too focused now on how my arm is pressing against your shoulder – this golden halo that your touch casts onto the here-and-now; no moment can ever be insignificant again. Oh, it feels so nice to be with you, real nice. Makes me wanna travel all the distance from Tokyo right to your doorstep. Morning arrives with it’s awkward limbs that will be drowned in black coffee. Yesterday there seemed to be no more blue tomorrows, but now your eyes greet me and I don’t know what to say.

17

A personal limerick. There is a handsome man I call Crow. Who most poets definitely know He spends all his time Composing his rhyme Which is why we are here ,I suppose. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Written by Philip. In tribute. November 26th 2018.

0

Nov 25, 2018

Nov 25, 2018 at 9:42 PM UTC

oliver-philip

A man called Crow.

A personal limerick. There is a handsome man I call Crow. Who most poets definitely know He spends all his time Composing his rhyme Which is why we are here ,I suppose. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Written by Philip. In tribute. November 26th 2018.

9

If I am gone vanish like pieces into the atom. It ain’t complain lets drawback spur in rhythm.

0

Jun 29, 2018

Jun 29, 2018 at 10:19 PM UTC

shofi-ahmed

Dance Into The Atom

If I am gone vanish like pieces into the atom. It ain’t complain lets drawback spur in rhythm.

6

My favorite people were met on a whim. My favorite memories were made on a whim. The most splendid castles, the most magnificent sunsets, the sweetest kisses; all were had and done and seen on whims. Don't tell me that I'm silly for following my heart and permitting my life to blow along with the wind. My life was made on a whim, and it'll likely end the same way.

0

May 16, 2018

May 16, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC

JoBarb

On a Whim

My favorite people were met on a whim. My favorite memories were made on a whim. The most splendid castles, the most magnificent sunsets, the sweetest kisses; all were had and done and seen on whims. Don't tell me that I'm silly for following my heart and permitting my life to blow along with the wind. My life was made on a whim, and it'll likely end the same way.

15

All Joe king aside Humor iz vital stove topface component to survive the cares and concerns oven uncertain culinary future, that presages over heating of this planet concomitant with extinction per the human race. Many gauges point toward an irrevocable debacle where the evolutionary timer seems to tick, head, and (hmm… more like barreling) toward becoming a cooked goose. An ear splitting ruth less buzzer will be an impossible mission to clap quiet while steam issues out the airwaves from stymied paunchiest pilot light buck kit brigade. If and/ or when such a fiery fate befalls this arrogantly bombastic, conceitedly egoistic, forlorn, grievously hapless, irascibly jangling, kookily middling luddite, he hopes his demise will be brutish, short and nasty while surviving foreign legion members of locked humanity hob bull along the blitzed boulevard of broken dreams. Whatever provokes a maniacal person to laugh as the world turns tumultuously affecting a surreal ambience akin to the edge of night (especially with dark shadows) may appear wantonly vapid unspooling threnodies sotto voce. Rational quartermasters promulgated outlandish no mans land. Knowledge jackknifed ideal humane gentility. Febrile earth lings’ dragnet cleaved bona fide actualization. What other option available to tinker, tailor, soldier spy except to chuckle at the folly gingerly loosened upon the terra firmae? Nothing short of an uproarious chortle would be prescribed from doctor demento to ameliorate the tightly wound tension arising from local or global aggression arising from bullies calling their bluff fed goat bluster, division by the zero sum game of thrones. Thus, this mechanically nonsensical, pop sic cull *** purée to throw fire retardant on the conflict frission intonating loopy outré playfulness with words hoop ping quadratic equations totally add further meaninglessness. Hence **** friend, aye axe hew, how does humor get decided? Laughter versus humor All Joe king aside. Jest parody offers funny types of humor. Seriously folks. What spurs this laughter? Repression of natural mandated libidinal kickstarter jammed in high gear feeds e-z dropsy clodhoppers bursts of hyena sounding eruptions! The cervical contractions puffed up like jiffy pop laced pompadour, increased with greater frequency and intensity asthma due date approached (which felt like violent shaking of the biological ***** re: me), especially prominent when “mother” gracefully described Arabesque. She gravitated to modus operandi sans professional ballet dancer like a duck would drake to water, and salve and duff heat whirled pool ache kin to preparation H - soothing the pain in the *** of hemorrhoids. Hours elapsed with incessant stretching (while in a standing pose) blithely drawing one leg or the other up against those roseate ****** cheeks. Even when quite progressed along the family way with yours truly, thy status while in utero where ****** stretched akin to a taut rubber band near ready tubby (or knot tibia) snapped, like ballet slippers suspending balanced ***** of toes pointed to maximum flexion, or inflated balloon ready to pop beyond capacity or, bulged in utero, she maintained a fanatic, maniacal, and slavish veneration asper the rigorous being a choreographed top notch ballerina. This passion to bend body electric defied laws of fig newton’s, finagled parallel dimensions, and hugged joie de vivre limbs maintaining nonchalant passion recognized talent unbridled versatility waiving youngest attaining burlesque, Churrigueresque dramatic elegiac fluidity transformed thine mama into a holographic, kaleidoscopic, and opportunistic piquant rondelet thru vitality, whimsicality, and zealotry. Gracefulness hove spectators to behold defiance asper flexibility of muscles in conjunction with defiance of physics. Once immersed in a classical routine, thee supple rubbery form assumed by thine mother ******* focused klieg lights upon wondrous kinetic magic. An audience member vicariously experienced dalliance of some mind-numbing narcotic minus the addiction. Stupefaction trans fixed gaze upon the dynamic parameters of space and time to present an enchanting move able feast replete with operatic poetry, quixotic romanticism, and sculpturesque statuesque totemic union verging on affects cast by a singular whirling dervish. A heightened indoctrination of jubilation radiated from every cell of this artiste in motion. Pirouettes cast grotesque dark shadows and etched the faux edge of night scenario with gigantesque ghoulish phantasmagoric veterans of many tragic- comic composers long since vetted into the storied ballroom of fame. No surprise then that when mine exit from the berth canal of stage nom de plume Harriet Harris witnessed by a full house, my denouement propelled from the tender vittles tulip ruffled private naughty bits induced balletic movements. Meanwhile me mum (real name christened Chrys Anne Thumb) busily intensely engrossed herself (terrifically totally tubularly) within whose inter twined arms and legs that emulated an analogy to a pretzel held me snug as a bug in rug. A pause (which many interpreted to initiate an applause) sprung a contagion of hand clapping that drowned out the impetus signifying the first breath of this wordsmith. Only as the slap happy flesh diminished did ardent hard fans of a triumphant fancy feast and foot loose Gangnam style winged goddess take stock of the starlit cradling a newborn. Frightful faces and peculiar sounds appeared scary. Thence spurred via submit able exertion climaxing with a riveting acrobatic contortion (essentially forcing this now grown baby boomer former chap - lain cocooned for nine months within the womb), thyself made headway into an alien world, whereat this full term new born did provide his own wailing lyrics (even at that tender infant hood, an iconoclastic antiestablishmentarian). This now grown baby boomer chap lain cocooned for nine months within the womb, who sought nothing more nor less than that which necessitates being swaddled, pampered, mollycoddled, cuddled, bundled, and held close to the ***** As grown middle-aged madman (albeit married to X-Files rabid fan) still craves, desires, and gloms toward picturesque pairs of pendulous pliant plump prized politically incorrect breastworks.

0

Jan 20, 2018

Jan 20, 2018 at 4:48 PM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

All Joe king aside

All Joe king aside Humor iz vital stove topface component to survive the cares and concerns oven uncertain culinary future, that presages over heating of this planet concomitant with extinction per the human race. Many gauges point toward an irrevocable debacle where the evolutionary timer seems to tick, head, and (hmm… more like barreling) toward becoming a cooked goose. An ear splitting ruth less buzzer will be an impossible mission to clap quiet while steam issues out the airwaves from stymied paunchiest pilot light buck kit brigade. If and/ or when such a fiery fate befalls this arrogantly bombastic, conceitedly egoistic, forlorn, grievously hapless, irascibly jangling, kookily middling luddite, he hopes his demise will be brutish, short and nasty while surviving foreign legion members of locked humanity hob bull along the blitzed boulevard of broken dreams. Whatever provokes a maniacal person to laugh as the world turns tumultuously affecting a surreal ambience akin to the edge of night (especially with dark shadows) may appear wantonly vapid unspooling threnodies sotto voce. Rational quartermasters promulgated outlandish no mans land. Knowledge jackknifed ideal humane gentility. Febrile earth lings’ dragnet cleaved bona fide actualization. What other option available to tinker, tailor, soldier spy except to chuckle at the folly gingerly loosened upon the terra firmae? Nothing short of an uproarious chortle would be prescribed from doctor demento to ameliorate the tightly wound tension arising from local or global aggression arising from bullies calling their bluff fed goat bluster, division by the zero sum game of thrones. Thus, this mechanically nonsensical, pop sic cull *** purée to throw fire retardant on the conflict frission intonating loopy outré playfulness with words hoop ping quadratic equations totally add further meaninglessness. Hence **** friend, aye axe hew, how does humor get decided? Laughter versus humor All Joe king aside. Jest parody offers funny types of humor. Seriously folks. What spurs this laughter? Repression of natural mandated libidinal kickstarter jammed in high gear feeds e-z dropsy clodhoppers bursts of hyena sounding eruptions! The cervical contractions puffed up like jiffy pop laced pompadour, increased with greater frequency and intensity asthma due date approached (which felt like violent shaking of the biological ***** re: me), especially prominent when “mother” gracefully described Arabesque. She gravitated to modus operandi sans professional ballet dancer like a duck would drake to water, and salve and duff heat whirled pool ache kin to preparation H - soothing the pain in the *** of hemorrhoids. Hours elapsed with incessant stretching (while in a standing pose) blithely drawing one leg or the other up against those roseate ****** cheeks. Even when quite progressed along the family way with yours truly, thy status while in utero where ****** stretched akin to a taut rubber band near ready tubby (or knot tibia) snapped, like ballet slippers suspending balanced ***** of toes pointed to maximum flexion, or inflated balloon ready to pop beyond capacity or, bulged in utero, she maintained a fanatic, maniacal, and slavish veneration asper the rigorous being a choreographed top notch ballerina. This passion to bend body electric defied laws of fig newton’s, finagled parallel dimensions, and hugged joie de vivre limbs maintaining nonchalant passion recognized talent unbridled versatility waiving youngest attaining burlesque, Churrigueresque dramatic elegiac fluidity transformed thine mama into a holographic, kaleidoscopic, and opportunistic piquant rondelet thru vitality, whimsicality, and zealotry. Gracefulness hove spectators to behold defiance asper flexibility of muscles in conjunction with defiance of physics. Once immersed in a classical routine, thee supple rubbery form assumed by thine mother ******* focused klieg lights upon wondrous kinetic magic. An audience member vicariously experienced dalliance of some mind-numbing narcotic minus the addiction. Stupefaction trans fixed gaze upon the dynamic parameters of space and time to present an enchanting move able feast replete with operatic poetry, quixotic romanticism, and sculpturesque statuesque totemic union verging on affects cast by a singular whirling dervish. A heightened indoctrination of jubilation radiated from every cell of this artiste in motion. Pirouettes cast grotesque dark shadows and etched the faux edge of night scenario with gigantesque ghoulish phantasmagoric veterans of many tragic- comic composers long since vetted into the storied ballroom of fame. No surprise then that when mine exit from the berth canal of stage nom de plume Harriet Harris witnessed by a full house, my denouement propelled from the tender vittles tulip ruffled private naughty bits induced balletic movements. Meanwhile me mum (real name christened Chrys Anne Thumb) busily intensely engrossed herself (terrifically totally tubularly) within whose inter twined arms and legs that emulated an analogy to a pretzel held me snug as a bug in rug. A pause (which many interpreted to initiate an applause) sprung a contagion of hand clapping that drowned out the impetus signifying the first breath of this wordsmith. Only as the slap happy flesh diminished did ardent hard fans of a triumphant fancy feast and foot loose Gangnam style winged goddess take stock of the starlit cradling a newborn. Frightful faces and peculiar sounds appeared scary. Thence spurred via submit able exertion climaxing with a riveting acrobatic contortion (essentially forcing this now grown baby boomer former chap - lain cocooned for nine months within the womb), thyself made headway into an alien world, whereat this full term new born did provide his own wailing lyrics (even at that tender infant hood, an iconoclastic antiestablishmentarian). This now grown baby boomer chap lain cocooned for nine months within the womb, who sought nothing more nor less than that which necessitates being swaddled, pampered, mollycoddled, cuddled, bundled, and held close to the ***** As grown middle-aged madman (albeit married to X-Files rabid fan) still craves, desires, and gloms toward picturesque pairs of pendulous pliant plump prized politically incorrect breastworks.

164

Sleep is fleeting Mirror cracks Summer's stifling Smiling lacks Lovers leave you Friends forget Don't remember Just regret Milk turns sour Leaders lie Oceans burn Don't ask why.

0

Jan 31, 2017

Jan 31, 2017 at 11:09 AM UTC

Rakish

Simple Stuff

Sleep is fleeting Mirror cracks Summer's stifling Smiling lacks Lovers leave you Friends forget Don't remember Just regret Milk turns sour Leaders lie Oceans burn Don't ask why.

12

Heat-starved sunshine, Fractured light, Pitch-black evening Silent night. Longcoats flapping, Christmas time All the sky turned tourmaline. So what if it's cold? Winter's wondrous.

0

Jan 16, 2017

Jan 16, 2017 at 7:44 PM UTC

Rakish

Tourmaline Sky

Heat-starved sunshine, Fractured light, Pitch-black evening Silent night. Longcoats flapping, Christmas time All the sky turned tourmaline. So what if it's cold? Winter's wondrous.

10

When words fail me, turn me towards the skies. Teach me to shine like the stars in the night Maybe someday soon I'll bid you adue Until such a time I'll rattle your cages and spit on your muse I'll kick and scream and fight for eternity Until such a time that I ponder your immunity. Against an unholy guard and a trusted advisor My love will be poisoned like the black nights armor.

0

Jun 24, 2015

Jun 24, 2015 at 10:58 PM UTC

backgroundcharacter

Untitled 18

When words fail me, turn me towards the skies. Teach me to shine like the stars in the night Maybe someday soon I'll bid you adue Until such a time I'll rattle your cages and spit on your muse I'll kick and scream and fight for eternity Until such a time that I ponder your immunity. Against an unholy guard and a trusted advisor My love will be poisoned like the black nights armor.

8

what a shame it is i dont know a ******* thing about you mama

0

Apr 24, 2015

Apr 24, 2015 at 12:25 AM UTC

goodmorning-myles

africa

what a shame it is i dont know a ******* thing about you mama

3

I Remained silent vacuum without daring shapes to show unrecognizable parasites sleeping in your ******* and your smiles. I said that no matter, who despairs, that incinerates, that choking... is flawless silhouette of your everlasting forms of your solidarity equine representations doing frills over my magnetism of heat-dog corrupting my virginal research and breaking the enthusiasm of my seaquakes. It has fallen thy angel of the thousand forms, masks jump over spaces of infamous digital corpses. shadows refuse to remain shadows and the big destuctor starts to devour 12-penises little girls. The actual search of thirst -Sobre, hombre, cumbre, hambre... ride furious over my back spur my libidinous thoughts memorize my pre-meditated ejaculations break your ***** against my gloomy loser fingers. We are alone lost but i have said that does not matter that choking... who despairs your absence ...

0

Feb 24, 2015

Feb 24, 2015 at 12:01 PM UTC

rayenari-das

Des(espera) tu ausencia

I Remained silent vacuum without daring shapes to show unrecognizable parasites sleeping in your ******* and your smiles. I said that no matter, who despairs, that incinerates, that choking... is flawless silhouette of your everlasting forms of your solidarity equine representations doing frills over my magnetism of heat-dog corrupting my virginal research and breaking the enthusiasm of my seaquakes. It has fallen thy angel of the thousand forms, masks jump over spaces of infamous digital corpses. shadows refuse to remain shadows and the big destuctor starts to devour 12-penises little girls. The actual search of thirst -Sobre, hombre, cumbre, hambre... ride furious over my back spur my libidinous thoughts memorize my pre-meditated ejaculations break your ***** against my gloomy loser fingers. We are alone lost but i have said that does not matter that choking... who despairs your absence ...

32