"acme" poems
Loony Tunes
Bugs Bunny is my favorite rabbit,
watching him became my habit.
He was smart, funny and two steps ahead,
his popularity was very widespread.
His best friend was Daffy Duck,
he never did have the same luck.
Rabbit season, duck season,
rabbit season, duck season,
watching them, I needed no reason.
Speedy Gonzales was so very quick,
this fast mouse was also a *****
Owned his own pizza place,
won a gold metal, at the local rat race.
Yosemite Sam was a short tempered man,
killing Bugs and Daffy was always his plan.
He's a liar, a cheat and a sore loser,
maybe he should have been a drug user.
Tasmanian Devil was a tornado of destruction,
he never needed any kind of introduction.
Foghorn Leghorn never saw a negative situation,
I say, I say boy was his favorite quotation.
Pepe Le Pew was a French skunk,
women loved his smelly *****
Marvin The Martian was from Mars,
his laser gun would leave you with scars.
Tweety was an antagonizing canary,
lived with Granny, and flew like a crafty fairy.
Sylvester was Granny's pet cat,
him and Tweety always went *** for tat.
Road Runner was so very fast,
said beep beep as Wile E Coyote he passed.
Never fell for those Acme supplies,
getting blown up was his ultimate demise.
Porky Pig was just happy to be included,
the, the that's all folks, is how this will be concluded.
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
I want you
more than Plankton
wants the Krabby Patty secret formula.
I need you
more than Wile E. Coyote
needs functional ACME products.
I love you
more than the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles love pizza,
more than Winnie the Pooh loves honey,
more than Scooby-Doo loves Scooby Snacks.
Apr 18, 2011
Apr 18, 2011 at 2:43 PM UTC
Doc, I've been trying to deal with these issues for quite sometime to no avail;
A good friend of mine (you may know him, Elmer Fudd) recommended you.
I fear I will never be able to eat, let alone catch this turbo inspired example of flightless foul;
Stuck in this celluloid world vividly inspired by an Emmy award winning colorist.
I am a proud animal from generations of fine breeding, born in the pristine coyote valley;
I am not stupid, not a fool or buffoon, and so I thought contractually, not one to be laughed at.
And I, always the bad guy, constantly daunted in pursuit by haphazard ACME products;
Expensive, bulky, time consuming, they characteristically fail right before they almost work.
Rocket powered skates, unfortunately, only allow me to kiss the cliff-side really really hard;
Very heavy anvils serve no other purpose than to be dropped on my head repeatedly.
The incredulous manipulations of the impossible by the so clever writers of this farce;
From trains appearing out of nowhere to run me over, to fierce lightning storms in an instant.
Laying there in the release of my own bowels as the uncontrollable result of
500 Megajoules of energy traveling through my body yet again.
I am the twice electrified mass of dribbling spastic protoplasm
Personified proverbially in that lightning does indeed strike twice in the same place!
As the smoke arises from my chard hairy frame and I sweep up my ashes to reassemble later;
I realize Doc, I'm losing my grasp on the reality of ever succeeding, I need your help!
I'm still hungry;
And still I have not caught that **** Road Runner,
**** you Warner Brothers!
-----ChawzzyScript
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 1:13 AM UTC
She made it vanish
every trace of it,
with her inimitable
feminine magic.
Fully erasing my
post ****** hatred
led me from the front
to an exploration of
ardent, ****** acrobatics
that took us through the
***** dynamics of
****** healing, non peril!
Wasn’t she an all terrain ace?
Aviator making me fly
without wings above the
fluffy soft caressing clouds
The toughest driver on roads
of all kind,keeping pleasure
at the acme through out her drive.
What a swimmer was she,making
me swoon in sensual waters.
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 2:33 PM UTC
My beloved night was dense,dark, wavy, soft velvet,
fully naked, moving in rhythm with me, frenzied, sweet,
we moved heaven and earth to reach the acme of delight,
then flew in to a sudden culmination,words fail to express,
the day dawned, blazing molten gold,ages were impatient steeds,
together we rode, gained wings, became transcendentals, sublime
reached that tranquil, trident blue peak where silence for ever reigns,
we had a deep yearning to sit and peer deep in to each other's eyes,
and see what remains after the last wave returns to the ocean's heart.
Above the emerald mountain,ran a river that fell in to an abyss,
the white foam of it's smile told us, about all we sought thus far.
"Ÿou have reached here in your frenzied search for the elusive
chasing the essence of a conundrum unexplained , cyclic, cryptic"
looking at us sang a little bird, from a low hanging branch
of the tree of diamonds, that shaded us with it's clear light.
We felt the thousand petaled lotus bloom within us that moment.
"Day and night are the horses that draw the chariot you ride,
an oasis you'll reach, then hear stories that would ease your pain
you are in a story that reflects on the periphery of a bubble,
that exists in innumerable worlds simultaneously and hence
none is real, your truth you create,every minute and live"
We are somnambulists, that sit and paint colors in our fanciful dreams,
when we smile the colors stick to our souls till the apparition dissolves.
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 10:07 AM UTC
Skin erupts, itches
fingers resist temptations
small fight over guilt
every night wishing
looking into clear mirrors
feeling the reflection
applying lotion for moons
pricey creamy dream
exercising self-loathing
the unphotographed cheek(s)
endless blame
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 4:53 AM UTC
Re: Ancient Greece: How do you read a sundial, especially if you work on a nightshift at Acme Stonecutters, Inc.? Something for Socrates to ponder.(He was always late for work)
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 9:53 PM UTC
Yes, she stole my thoughts
devoured, digested and made her own
in the shortest possible time one could imagine,
made her imprint to make it a through job.
all between a stuporous sleep of my unmaking
after that frenzied mating instigated by
her cheating instinct at its acme.
she did it quietly in the dim light
of the zero watt bulb,
after we slept together
for the first time;
it was eerie
my romanticized thoughts
were the first to
get drawn out,
a tree full of wild red blossoms,
the name of which slipped
from memory to oblivion,
migratory birds of different feathers
sitting on that tree chirping in love's sweet passion.
i woke up
when the thoughts circling
like blood in my veins were touched,
she was there prowling
with the look of a witch,
a happy one at that
how victorious she looked!
my angst has no place in her scheme of things
after that, she coughed and spat
and pretended ,IPR never was violated
When you get bitten by the
serpent called lust,
and two ***** conjoin,
thoughts go down and hide,
one become unreasonable
and glide through moonlit sky,
stars wink, thoughts wink back,
and the stupor takes over.
*yes, she stole my thoughts
how could one complain?
You need to be one or the other at a time.*
Jun 24, 2012
Jun 24, 2012 at 1:05 PM UTC
It is a silver snail between the lips,
cold as a quarter bitter as a penny,
Not even the aftertaste of chlorine.
Patchy F# smoker’s exhalations
Grit the teeth and the ball of cork
lolls in its belly.
Look down your nose
it looks back at you,
Blurred.
Look back at you.
On sticky tile bare toes clenched,
and chin lowered to chest, pool-parched lips
Took the Acme Thunderer and—
Blew.
echoes whipped from ceiling to surface to
bare-slick backs of streamlined swimmers.
Spines curved into fins—
Lungs collpasing slow as a circus tent
Even the bubbles tittered with reverberation
Faster.
Not a splash as pointed feet flicked at the ankle
Casting expanding triangles of wakes
And lips kiss-close to the plastic lane line
Breathed.
And finger-tips yearned for that two hand touch.
And now—
Blow.
Only shivers of sound.
Just spit it out.
That unmusical clang as it hits the desk.
Exposing distresses of is and was
escher-impossible to tell which is which.
Waiting for that hollow echo
of high ceilings and deep water.
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 8:57 PM UTC
The world is flat
That's what they told me
...and I always take people at their word
Nice people like at The Acme Company
always believing what they say
I am a gullible fool
to trust, to love, to hope
to get ground down that way
I cower
I yelp when kicked
Running, madly
scramble over edge of ice
(New concept of Antarctica)
Missed the sign
for The Acme Map Company
and that dead end
Loaded down with Acme Explosives
Cartoon coyote
Always sees “that painted tunnel”
as possible place to hide
Inexplicably
shows up again--
just a little fried
smoke rising from my scalp
small white flag in hand
says, “HELP”
Scramble over that ledge of melting ice
and crumbling shame
Clinging by my fingertips
You'd think something would finally do me in
Me and "Wile E. Coyote-- Genius"
________
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j8eP0ntOJ1U
Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner are classic cartoon characters that date back to 1949. They've been popular ever since. I think the sound effects, music, and the timing of the animators are elements that make them so good. Their expressions just **** me.
Dec 30, 2017
Dec 30, 2017 at 8:01 PM UTC
*The hill, meditative and tranquil
at its acme, stands a tree majestic,
a grandpa banyan, lost in thought,
birds on his crown sing all day long,
many different tunes
that merge in to one, and wafts in the air
the silver cloud, transparent above the hill
in its morning meditation
stands still
below the hill is a river,
the water runs deep, so pleased it seems,
meandering around the hill,
hurrying on its way to the ocean,
yet unknown.
In a boat the lone traveller sits,
as the wind blows the boat gains speed,
he looks at the mast, so white,
the sun sits above it,
vigorous, splashing light,
around the boat he sees a shoal of fish
languidly swim,
a fish, he is in life's stream
a ray of light, a drop in the river
a wisp of cloud that drifts and dissolves,
bit by bit in blue expanses,
All one, just many facets of eternal.*
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 7:46 AM UTC
I will wander
into wilderness
to find myself.
I will leave behind
my accoutrements,
memories of medals,
of past applause
and accolades,
accomplishments that
warranted degrees
and diplomas
portending future
successes. I like
who I am, who
I have become. No,
I love myself, and that
is my greatest achievement,
the acme most men
are blind to as they
mistake wealth for worth.
Most would say
I will be lonely,
but they are wrong,
because I will always be
with my best friend ever,
my real self. And I will
share my joy with
squirrels and rabbits
and deer, with bushes
and broken branches
and brush, with rills
and rivulets and rivers,
with rising and setting
suns and countless
stars coruscating in
night's sky. I will say
prayers to piles of pine
and sycamore limbs
that once were live,
but now make monuments
I worship. I am at one
with all I prize. My eyes,
even when they are closed,
see their beauty. I know
I will be blessed forever.
I lie on my bed, Earth,
and wait to join all
in solitude and grace.
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Jul 13, 2021
Jul 13, 2021 at 2:31 AM UTC
It's 2 o'clock in the morning now.
I'm on a late night drive to the Acme pit mines.
With muddy thoughts in a midnight mind,
a mound of gravel in my guts,
I'm churning up
The last 4 years
and knocking back a cocktail
of wins and losses.
Wyoming night in the early Autumn.
Do you wanna come for a drive?
Take me back to that Winter night
when we walked outside
and filled cold air with our voices.
We set the icy, empty streets to rights,
and just talked all night
until our frozen throats thawed out.
3:10 a.m. It's still warm outside.
The gravel speaks, with each step, under my feet.
Tally up the feet and miles I've gone,
the feet and miles we have lived.
A memory walk
is vignette stops:
Those nights we spent drinking wine
on your rooftop.
Wyoming night in the heat of Summer.
Do you wanna come for a drive?
Thinking back on that April night
when we stayed inside
and hid from rain in the Springtime.
We let our favorite records spin all night
while it soaked outside
until the red wine sky dried out.
An empty ghost town. 3:45.
Imprints of gravel on my legs are a star map
I'll follow back to the times we had
through mounting years and empty space.
A distant place
I'm dredging up.
The one laid down; woven thick
in our fibers.
The map is laid out but I know my way.
So do you wanna come for a drive?
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 1:34 PM UTC
Still cold water
Clear dark skies
im your daughter
with sorrow filled eyes
Vanish into the void of they heaven
for thou wert never, nor shalt thou ever be
yes the acme of human perfection
into the eyes of delusion you will see
we know not
we shall know
what was lost
and gain control
the dark lord wipes those tears from her eyes
we have seen pride glorified as days go by
Demons live inside me from wickedness done
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 6:09 AM UTC
*Did I love you when we first met?
No.
That sounds cold but, truth is often painful.
Was I looking for someone like you?
No.
That is a brutal truth.
Were you persistent?
Yes.
Did you win my heart?
Eventually. With roses? No, with chocolates? No.
You won my heart, by accepting me.
You won me by being you.
I love how our love grew.
I wasn't looking for love, it somehow found me.
Did you write me poems?
No.
Sing me love songs?
No.
Did we have anything in common?
No.
But, love grew, desire bloomed.
We needed each other, we still need and want each other.
Over coffee, Monty Python and a gentlemanly kiss on my cheek
I knew that love was real, it crashed into my heart like a wrecking ball.
Is love like the movies?
Is it ********
It's more like a Wile E Coyote cartoon.
You bought an ACME love boulder!
Meep meep!*
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
ACME TIRE FACTORY
The system was so slow to use and the boss was always on our back
Hurry hurry get your fingers out this job depends on you
I’ll fire your sorry arses if you go any **** slower!
My company and big fat profit depend on you lazy gets doing this job right
Don’t dawdle and stop gossiping about your Saturday nights
I’ve checked the order already and it’s only half done and needs to be sent
For that you can work thru your dinner hour without pay and eat after work
See what a good boss I am to you all I will treat you at Xmas
And so it went on day by week by month by year by decade
ACME TIRE FACTORY was always this way with a slave boss
And unhappy ****** off workers who were no better than slaves
Why did we stay in the job when there was the dole doing nothing?
We were all mates and drank together every Saturday to forget this
Plus we also worked deliberately slowly to **** the boss off
We could live without eating dinner when our boss was upset
Our tools and line was ok but outdated so we milked it
It was us who ran the tire factory not him and he knew it
We could shut him down or burn his company without interference
We made 2 out of 3 vehicle tires on North American roads
Why change a good thing when we hated but loved it?
May 17, 2021
May 17, 2021 at 9:21 PM UTC
"Look at me sweet light, come make my inner eyes yours
light me up, I am the universe, spanning light years across
galaxies of desire and the renunciation at altissimo, the peak
disentangle the strands, liberate, to my abode let me go back
How long I've been sitting in meditative wait, for your caresses
for that divine touch that'd trigger ecstasy in multiples"
My journey is recorded in shades
of light and darkness, it's essence
returns to the flow eternal, dissolves.
I am the remembrance of nights
colored by sad, pale, soft moon light
that keeps watch to million secrets
preserved in double helix, passed over as
codes that keep on telling stories from
time immemorial,still kept safe within,
which is my zen 'kon' to contemplate
and erupt in enlightenment, my right.
I am melancholy light, driven away
when sea blue drinks sun at last, liquefied,
every tree top then one'd find covered
with fire flies that play an orchestra,
in an ascending wave, touching
the acme,then comes down rolling and dies.
We lived in a land of unimagined beauty
only a bit of it our conscious mind receives
that anointed us all it has, rain and wind
fog, ice and sleet,the warmth of summer,
remember the way winter made us tenderly
shiver together, as if we are explorers of a
world,we created and dissolve as we return.
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 2:52 PM UTC
Words are frauds
You, me, they, them all we
Lost under the same tree.
Mar 11, 2023
Mar 11, 2023 at 1:51 PM UTC
The receding horizon,
The fading light of day,
Azure taking a livid hue.
Pokhran's hot, scorching sand,
A lash on our moribund logic.
Death and Life, Life and Death-
Religion and Atheism, Nobel and Booker,
Make us proud and shiver,
Make us happy, rob us of gaiety,
Shoot all our fragile hopes to artistic acme.
Smash all our favourite dreams to smithereens.
The Ganga meanders amidst a maze of
Ripples, crest and trough-
With a dour askance,
With a nonsensical exterior,
At the dead of night,
The hoary-headed ***** rises,
To take stock of pelf,
He keeps in hiding,
Looka yonder, the man with a rice plate in his shack
Stirs out of his lumber, in a jiffy,
Dawns cracks, leaves rustle, breezes whistles,
The nightingale still chirps coo, coo, coo....
Breaking the calm of a nostalgic daybreak.
Love buffoonery, antics of sweet urchin,
Effrontery, betrayal, self-destructive urge,
Blinds love toting niggling details of despair
In it's womb.
A silver of modernism, none can deny,
Gleaning the core of every 'ism' in it's *****
Roads, alleys crisscross, end of tunnel seems dark.
At least, a hairpin bend,
Across the debris of a fresh landslide,
A ray of hope, a shaft of optimism,
A changed universe, a reclaimed Utopia.
Coming true!
-Subhanjan Saha
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 1:41 PM UTC
The receding horizon,
The fading light of day,
Azure taking a livid hue.
Pokhran's hot, scorching sand,
A lash on our moribund logic.
Death and Life, Life and Death-
Religion and Atheism, Nobel and Booker,
Make us proud and shiver,
Make us happy, rob us of gaiety,
Shoot all our fragile hopes to artistic acme.
Smash all our favourite dreams to smithereens.
The Ganga meanders amidst a maze of
Ripples, crest and trough-
With a dour askance,
With a nonsensical exterior,
At the dead of night,
The hoary-headed ***** rises,
To take stock of pelf,
He keeps in hiding,
Looka yonder, the man with a rice plate in his shack
Stirs out of his lumber, in a jiffy,
Dawns cracks, leaves rustle, breezes whistles,
The nightingale still chirps coo, coo, coo....
Breaking the calm of a nostalgic daybreak.
Love buffoonery, antics of sweet urchin,
Effrontery, betrayal, self-destructive urge,
Blinds love toting niggling details of despair
In it's womb.
A silver of modernism, none can deny,
Gleaning the core of every 'ism' in it's *****
Roads, alleys crisscross, end of tunnel seems dark.
At least, a hairpin bend,
Across the debris of a fresh landslide,
A ray of hope, a shaft of optimism,
A changed universe, a reclaimed Utopia.
Coming true!
-Subhanjan Saha
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 2:05 AM UTC
It's as if something fell from the sky.
Crash landed in front of me.
The label reads, "Mars".
No, "Acme".
What the hell is it?
Round but, bent and broken.
Was it round before?
I think that's metal, I can't tell.
I suppose I'll just have to
Call the authorities.
Can't very well
Just leave it there,
In the middle of the street.
It's lifted away,
Presumably to a properly sized
Bin. Garbage bin that is.
How big would the bin have to be?
How big was it?
Like a dump truck.
No, smaller.
Like a toy car.
It's a wonder it didn't do any damage.
Jul 26, 2012
Jul 26, 2012 at 5:43 PM UTC
At the acme of mind bird's flight,
up on the pinnacle of dark night,
my true love, the lone star, sheds radiance,
without her, my life would be a dawnless stormy night.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 11:49 AM UTC
A mirage.
Fabricated sustenance.
A false flourish.
The brush of your almond scented exhale inspires a rush that leaves me in a desired disquietude.
Still every exhale is savored by an inhale
It meanders past sun kissed mounds and valleys
Til it hits your candied oasis.
Inspiration swells with every acme reached
until
you're satiated by my nectar
Calming to a summer zephyr
I turn over to your pillowed chest,
and drift off to an insatiable reality.
+ crowned saint
Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 7:02 AM UTC