"amazingly" poems
By Arcassin Burnham
Its surprisingly amazingly,
Bad enough that I don't give two ***** about the human race,
But when you encounter,
A delusional crazy dumb ***** that listens to ghost call her name,
You wonder,
Man!!!
She is a lyar,
***** you should burn in fire,
Along with all those ghost,
And when I try to help you,
***** I swear you're doing the most,
So **** you.
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 11:03 PM UTC
This pink mass of mist
it glows when we touch
my waking has surrendered
it belongs to you
but the boulder
this crippling weight still sits
misty fog can't fly
can't float
never could
that rocky weight
it finally caught a cloud
and pinned it down
i didn't mean to show you
i never wanted you to see this
this amazingly heavy burden I carry
please don't let it catch your cloud
maybe I too often feel like a burden
only because I have lived as one
and this fear of being what I am
it adds ounces every day
maybe that's what I've been trying to get rid of
not my earthly weight
but the one that caught my cloud
Is that the one I've been trying to starve out?
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 11:27 PM UTC
My way to hell was paved from his heaven,
Life is now a crossroads of shores.
Destiny has changed its destination,
Blown away by the gust of fabrications.
My million sorrows, all rebelling for civility,
Are lost in my mistake.
I can mull now or forever,
Instead I wait for you, unwearyingly.
I walk on sand of memories, patiently;
My patience amazingly placating me,
Source anonymous, I breathe in my patience.
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 1:35 PM UTC
my sonnet is A light goes on in
the toiletwindow,that’s straightacross from
my window,night air bothered with a rustling din
sort of sublimated tom-tom
which quite outdoes the mandolin-
man’s tiny racket. The horses sleep upstairs.
And you can see their ears. Ears win-
k,funny stable. In the morning they go out in pairs:
amazingly,one pair is white
(but you know that)they look at each other. Nudge.
(if they love each other,who cares?)
They pull the morning out of the night.
I am living with a mouse who shares
my meals with him,which is fair as i judge.
10.4k
Off the train I hit the streets
and start laughing. This is ridiculous,
incomprehensible. How can innumerable bipeds
have individual inner lives. Why are they doing
what they’re doing? I have no answer
New York City but to also go about my business
in this case prepare for surgery, survival.
But why survive with so many exact replicas
to replace me? A swarm of ants or hive of bees,
social organisms they’re called, climbing
over each other, avoiding bumping and amazingly
making way, anticipating the sudden turns
and straight paths of others, strangers but brothers,
sisters incubating, the cells of a small
***** nodes of a single semi-conscious organism.
The concept of a higher power that cares
for me is also risible yet how else
can I explain the surgeon and his team,
robots and magnetic resonance imaging machines,
all primed and trained to save my life.
They are not particularly interested in what
I do with my time. I am immediately
in love with the Irish brogue of the head nurse,
the Indian skin of the physician’s assistant.
The long extraordinarily thin
fingers of the famous surgeon. All
mine to savor (and the other cancer patients).
Despair, lose all hope
that’s what the sign says at the gates of hell
and at the Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center the sign says
Be kind to our customers who are waiting and suffering.
Yesterday’s suicidal thoughts: the mind
is a clever servant, insufferable master. Therefore,
meditate on this: absolute need, dependence on the Other.
I still like Hombre, The Shootist and Ulzana’s Raid
but realize those dead heroes
were subordinate to society: the gun manufacturers who armed them.
Thus, I go for cancer tests, accepting, not predicting results.
Hero accepting help.
A torrential rain following five days of flooding,
tornadoes out west busting up wooden towns
all because too many of us are hoarding plastic, herding electrons.
None of us know how it will end, what the outcome will be
(of our surgery). The best that can be said
is Don’t forget to breathe. And you might
as well believe in that higher power.
Mar 5, 2019
Mar 5, 2019 at 6:00 AM UTC
Right. Listen to this:
Whenever life gets you down, Mrs. Brown,
and things seem hard or tough,
and people are stupid, obnoxious or daft
and you feel that you've had quite enough!
Just remember that you're standing
on a planet that's evolving
and revolving at nine hundred miles an hour!
It's orbiting at nineteen miles a second, so it's reckoned,
a Sun that it the source of all our power.
The Sun, and you and me,
and all the stars that we can see
are moving at a Million miles a day
in an outer spiral arm at forty thousand miles an hour
of the Galaxy we call the Milky Way.
Our Galaxy, itself,
contains a hundred Billion stars.
It's a hundred thousand light-years side to side.
It bulges in the middle sixteen thousand light-years thick,
but out by us it's just three thousand light-years wide.
We're thirty thousand light-years
from Galactic Central Point,
we go round every two hundred Million years!
And our Galaxy is only one of Millions of Billions
in this amazing and expanding Universe!
The Universe, itself,
keeps on expanding and expanding
in all of the directions it can ****
As fast as it can go,
the speed of Light, you know
twelve Million miles a minute,
and that's the fastest speed there is!
So, remember when you're feeling
very small and insecure,
how amazingly unlikely is your birth!
And prey that there's intelligent life somewhere up in space
because there's ****** all down here on Earth!
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 8:23 PM UTC
I have been going to the track for so
long that
all the employees know
me,
and now with winter here
it's dark before the last
race.
as I walk to the parking lot
the valet recognizes my
slouching gait
and before I reach him
my car is waiting for me,
lights on, engine warm.
the other patrons
(still waiting)
ask,
"who the hell is that
guy?"
I slip the valet a
tip, the size depending upon the
luck of the
day (and my luck has been amazingly
good lately)
and I then am in the machine and out on
the street
as the horses break
from the gate.
I drive east down Century Blvd.
turning on the radio to get the result of that
last race.
at first the announcer is concerned only with
bad weather and poor freeway
conditions.
we are old friends: I have listened to his
voice for decades but,
of course, the time will finally come
when neither one of us will need to
clip our toenails or
heed the complaints of our
women any longer.
meanwhile, there is a certain rhythm
to the essentials that now need
attending to.
I light my cigarette
check the dashboard
adjust the seat and
weave between a Volks and a Fiat.
as flecks of rain spatter the
windshield
I decide not to die just
yet:
this good life just smells too
sweet.
9k
My dear summers dream was to the taste cream
Pass me the triple beam the microphone fiend
Back on the scene simplicity is your complexity
So amazingly like grace I be rockin' the place
Like we Studio 54 shut down the doors
Once the bubbly pours and the **** adores
Ya mental **** ya sentimentals and these new aged millennials
They too satirical I make miracles flow potholes
Creatin' mass mayhem your an inconvenience
Cuz of ya hesitance my presence is known
Without even being shown paragraphs of stone
Hard to crack waxing tracks like a shark attack
Felonious acts we never back down
Til my soul drown in the core of the earth
Royalties since birth new my worth they tried to mirth
At my pain tryna change the game cuz all these cowards
Saying the same thang got dang got dang
Time to chess box like Wu Tang leavin' a stain
On ya reign no tears though I'll be on solo
Rippin' up instrumentals ya know how we do so...yeahhh
From the Sunny to bees that make the honey
Sticky icky like my spliffs be call me smokey
Puttin' fire to mother natures forests check the creases I
unleashes
Rap game mafiaso so so better back back
Or else get dropped lika Domino so here we go!
Here we go!
With the ghetto jams love girls with the derriere's of Pam
Got **** once again it's time to slam
Mics harder than Shawn Kemp ya flows shrimp
That's why ya girl calls me Mr **** no limp
Slick as Rick hello young world tilt and a whirl
Catch the swirl of Qatar Pearls on the neck of ya girl
Suckas better know I'm coming with a blow
Harder than Bowe combined with a super glow
black Saiyan raps slayin' turntables layin'
So I can get wicked lyrics Pickett
like Wilson
Flows in unison formation
of words
Herds a violent surge
feel the purge
We high rising no disguisin'
knockin' out Suckas who jivin' ain't none survivin' ?
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 11:09 PM UTC
Earth withers, air died
Water fouled, while fire lost might
Nowhere from, origin
Voyage to, end lasting sin
Save the princess, king orders
Must destroy the demon lord, he ponders
Built the rainbow bridge, aid from
Collecting the pillars of light, facing storm
Dragon, a symbol of bravery
Quest, a virtuous journey
Demons, his sword would kiss
Dragon Warrior, amazingly he is
|AB|
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 3:51 AM UTC
If you are looking at
Me and My Generation
Shaking your head
Grumbling ***
Walk away and do something
AMAZINGLY better
I'm good with that
Jack
Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
This life we're living, this place we're at, this thing we're feeling. Its amazingly surreal. Like a waking dream that is our reality. Almost too good to be true. And while every rose has gotta have its thorns, even our thorns are, oh, so sweet. Maybe they remind us of how frail we are. How quick a ***** could draw blood. And even the blood is sweet. In a way. In a dark twisted beautifully morbid way.
Our way.
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 11:32 PM UTC
~
June 2023
HP Poet: Patty Mager
Country: USA
Question 1: Welcome to the HP Spotlight, Patty. Please tell us about your background?
Patty M: "I was born an only child in a 3 generation household. I loved books, and playing imaginary games, and chasing my mom with really long nightcrawlers, my Grandpa raised in a washtub. I was a banker, and a financial banker for many years. I quit to do hospice for my Dad when he was to go into hospice. My husband had heart problems and my little Mom eventually got Cancer. So I nursed and loved them all. My Dad for a year, the others over an 8-year period. I saw the transition of each and the way each handled their ending, and I was there for them all. I consider that a special blessing."
Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?
Patty M: "I always wrote, but I found a poetry site 20 years ago, and began to write seriously. I've been published in many anthologies both in the US and abroad. I was nominated for the coveted Pushcart Prize twice and I once had a three-page spread in our local newspaper. I came to HP in 2014 and I love this special place with amazingly wonderful poets who have become really great friends."
Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).
Patty M: "Sometimes poems seem to write themselves, almost like automatic writing."
Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?
Patty M: "Poetry is spiritual, and a lifesaving rope that carries me through both good and the horrible times of my life."
Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?
Patty M: "My favorite Poets are: Sylvia Plath, Neruda, Billy Collins, Maya Angelou, Poe, Ginsberg, Anne Sexton, and Longfellow."
Question 6: What other interests do you have?
Patty M: "I love to cook, do crossword puzzles, read, and play card games like canasta, and spider solitaire. Being with family is my heaven."
Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much for allowing me to interview you, dear Patty! I learned a great deal about you!”
Patty M: "Thank again Carlo. Thanks so much for all your help and kindness."
Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed getting to know Patty a little bit better. I indeed did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez (aka Mr. Timetable)
We will post Spotlight #5 in July!
~
Jun 1, 2023
Jun 1, 2023 at 5:56 PM UTC
You are a Woman of Iron,
Composed of high expectations,
Forged with strong morals.
Quenched by the coldness of the world.
Your determination stands firm against all challenges.
Victories are graciously and easily surrendered to you.
Energetic and effective action.
All around you, people take notice.
Your are a Woman of Silk,
Your feminine form, undeniably ****
Your sweet odor is of respect and admiration.
Your skin, amazingly smooth & firm.
Your sensal lips draw me closer.
Your smile, beautifuly contagious, brightens all the day.
Your blue-gray eyes, sparkle of happiness and captures my soul
Your sassy auburn hair, thick and shinney,
bounces and flows as you graciously move about.
Your voice is soothing, it sings to my heart.
Your laughter, lifts my spirits,
A perfect combination, you are...
A woman of Iron & Silk!
Nov 3, 2012
Nov 3, 2012 at 5:52 PM UTC
We sat at the table, waiting for our number to be called.
Their pepperoni pizza, was our most favorite one of all.
Our number is announced, George is carrying the pizza back.
When close, he decides to act, as though he trips in his tracks.
In slow motion, that pizza, slid so smoothly out of the pan.
George's eyes got big as saucers, he saw the folly of his plan.
There I was in my new outfit, that cost half of my paycheck.
With pizza, upside down on my lap and sauce splashed on my neck.
Amazingly calm, George scooped the pizza up in his hands.
Melted cheese, stretching and stringing, from my pants in gooey strands.
He stood there patting and pressing the pizza back into shape.
That poor pizza looked just like a badly, bulldozered landscape.
It lay there sort of twisted, pepperoni all to one side.
Crust pieces stinking out of it, like a saucy red mudslide.
Then he sat down across from me, silently as if waiting.
I must have looked like a blonde fish, sitting there, just gapping.
Then a chuckle escaped my lips, as his eyes raised to meet mine.
He looked just like a little boy, who just got caught in a crime.
I'm surprised we didn't get kicked out for making such a fuss.
'Cause, next thing you know, the whole place is laughing along with us.
We couldn't stop, there was no way we'd been able.
Not while upsidedown-lap pizza, stared at us from the table
Oct 27, 2010
Oct 27, 2010 at 7:04 PM UTC
this is a typical story
you see this amazingly cute guy and you like him
and you fell for him
like the blossom
from the cherry trees
he finally notices you and you're now together
it wasnt a normal boy
this one had the sunset in his eyes and you loved it
but little red flags popped up right away
and you saw it but failed to understand
internalize and do something about it
you didnt want to believe it
but now its all over cause there was someone else
i guess you were the side chick
how unwise of you to think you were the only flower in his garden
but oh baby he was digging up other roots
nobody can escape the prison of unfaithfulness
but infatuation never hurt so much
betrayal and deception is what he gave you
and it's dwelling in your heart
spreading faster than an epidemic
you wished you had saved yourself from the pain
but truth is we cant always be saved
sometimes we need to be in pain to know what makes us happy
so basically this is a ten word story:
you thought you mattered but you dont so move on
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
Wish I had a special pair of lenses
A tool for me; just for my senses
That grant me binocular vision
Allow me to see with heightened perception.
Peer through mountain crags, over dunes of sand
Pierce skyscrapers in familiar foreign lands
A sight beyond nimbus clouds
Amazingly through temporal shrouds.
Past breathtaking ridges and quiet plateaus
Alongside a ****** of black-feathered crows
Tripping over singing brooks and moss-covered pebbles
Herds of quadrupeds as they frolic and gambol
Extraordinary views and candy for the eyes
Travelling linear between earth and skies.
But...
You're too far away for me to see
Even if bestowed upon me...
Still,
I wish my eyes binocular...
Because I need you so much closer...
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 2:23 PM UTC
whenever i see you
i feel like i want to live in your eyes,
even though it’s always cold,
i melt like a heated gold
and when i’m part of your sight
i couldn’t stand straight
‘cause you are an angel
amazingly at every angle
whenever your eyes meet mine,
i want to stare at them forever
i know i would never find any better,
yours are just so pretty that i burn
but i can never have you
‘cause you are saturn,
my favorite planet in my own milky way
already wearing a gorgeous ring.
—and so i made up my mind
that i would never,
ever reveal these feelings to anyone
‘cause you are an angel,
and you don’t deserve to lose her
Jul 9, 2022
Jul 9, 2022 at 12:32 PM UTC
Ontological Inscape, Trickery and Love
Busy, with an idea for a code, I write
signals hurrying from left to right,
or right to left, by obscure routes,
for my own reason; taking a word like "writes"
down tiers of tries until it's secret rites
make sense; or until, suddenly, RATS
can amazingly and finally become STAR
and right to left that small star
is mine, for my own liking, to stare
its five lucky pins inside out, to store
forever kindly, as if it were a star
I touched and a miracle I really wrote.
4.8k
she smells (nameless and shameless)
*a concoction of mixed aromas,
a once in a lifetime scent,
impossible to bottle,
impossible to name,
nameless and shameless
morning coffee, last nights vin rosé,
a come-a-little-closer-tasting for the summer solstice,
the stale of the evening meals of grains and kale,
the sour remains of bedroom sweat,
the displeasing scented sight of
sweat soiled clothes carelessly discarded
the first of the season red spot-stained white peonies
fail to mask the bodies aromatic musks,
which are mostly gender identifiable
my sneakers hail mary, her stockings odorize the atmosphere
most unusually, nylon and lycra are strangely familiar,
prior memorized perhaps, from deep within, a ****** hallelujah,
deep amidst where, the ***** linens are shelved and binned,
before they journey to the Egypt Nile of the basement waters
the burnt crumbs of illegal in-bed brioche toast
amazingly invisible on unclean sheets,
state “breakfast in bed, was yummy in the tummy,
but next time use a big dinner plate,
down here, the burnt of the bread and the burnt
of other things (popcorn pieces)
is just a scratchiest fragrance too far,
needing a sheet wiped clean slate
even the colorless and tasteless water
absorb the ionosphere of smells,
because one does usually speak poetically,
one of us makes a (vice) presidential declaration:
she smells, I man-ually stink, each,
each glower shower nower,
open the window to the spring wet grass aroma fresh cut,
to exhume and then send away
this odor now christened,*
nameless and shameless
11:47 28/4/19
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 10:25 AM UTC
Your smirk is like the sunrise.
Your frown is like the sunset.
Your smile, the mid day sun shining amazingly.
Your face is the beauty behind everything lovely.
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 5:07 PM UTC
Fly, O Bird! I allow adventure
Of mighty lands and snowy hillocks.
Beautiful heavens amazingly add
To the treasure.
Soon thou'lt to nation your own, fly,
Breaking all my desires,
Rendering ***** void.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 7:08 AM UTC
There are just so many snowflakes falling from the sky each year,
That you and me, she and he, even your pets could lend their names to the snowflakes,
And not worry about them being duplicates of each other,
Because just like all human beings have different physical characteristics,
Each snowflake is amazingly uniquely structured,
You would run out of names of human beings in all languages,
Numbering each snowflake is a better option,
Mother nature has also made each person so unique,
Why care about the names and origins,
When everyone could have a unique snowflake!
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 6:34 AM UTC
I walk
on a park so serene that birds gather on the tree tops to sing
a song that so nostalgic in a way you lighten up
and smile to embrace the setting sun an overwhelming feeling nonetheless
and you cannot ignore the view of the diving sun splattering depths of maroon
to the innocent clouds co-waltzing by with the grey blue sky so obvious
which only shows a beauty the nature can offer to the mortal eyes to see
the scenery is alluring that I would rather enjoy to sit under a tree
than to relax my body on a bench that are lined in an amusing way
facing the performance of the slow warm afternoon
I write
under a tree to feel the fullness of this afternoon scribbling poems
because in this way I feel amazingly close to nature that I appreciate every bit of it,
watching the butterflies playing a game of hide and seek while the one hiding
are the little pretty flowers rooted near the trees and the other rooted under the bench
and how I notice the trees are laughing cause the butterflies can’t seem to find the shy flowers
because in this spot I can see clearly what’s happening around me every bit of it
kids running around full of innocence and happiness not minding the butterflies
a lovers embracing each other like they are the only sweet thing around
and gaze at each other’s eye that seems likely make the time lingers
and look at the bench again that is not so far away from me
an uneasy feeling, a feeling of familiarity, a feeling of connection
just like me sitting alone under a tree a girl alone on her bench
I look
at you partly because you’re alone like me enjoying the dawdling afternoon,
partly because you have the beauty my very heart so desire,
partly because you make my heart skipped a beat this past few days,
partly because my love for you is growing every day I see you here and
it is not that hard to focused my all attention to you ignoring everything around me
even the love the couple emits with their embrace but you seem to be in trance
with the love the couple radiates and closely in your eyes melancholy tears fell
but still your even perfect when you cry and even angels weep to see you cry
maybe you miss the love you once have, maybe you feel so alone and so absorbed
that you feel there is no hope for the right one for you but only if you would look at me
here by the tree and I’ll give you a hope, I’ll offer you a smile so warm
but I can’t tell I’m the one only you can, but I’m sure I could kiss your tears goodbye
and you’re the only one I see myself dancing and holding each other’s hand
to stand near the tree when the sun sunk and this is all I’m hoping tell you about it.
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 6:24 AM UTC
This boy was one of a kind. I knew he was the love of my life, but I was afraid I wasn’t the only one sharing the same belief. As I said, he was the one of a kind, special in the natural and comforting way he made You feel around him. He was too humble for the talents he had and way too smart for the beauty he owned.
I couldn’t always guess what he felt when he played his music, but I could always know when he felt sad. He didn’t talk much, but he enjoyed writing little stories about other people, capturing them as they were. I believe he knew much more about them then they knew about themselves.
I didn’t always know what his purpose was, but somehow he was amazingly sure in his uncertainty. I wished I could see the world with his eyes, I wished I could look to the people as he did. In his eyes You could see the reflection of the world’s loveliness. He always found a way to surprise me, either with the things he knew, could or have done. He knew exactly how to touch your soul, or at least he knew how to reach mine, and as he was the only person able to do this I knew that he was special and made for the greatest things.
Sometimes I feared I loved him enough to die of pain of belonging. I couldn’t stand the thought of life without him or of life with different him. I couldn’t stand the pain of being close enough to feel the envy of losing him for something else and I knew I simply couldn’t live without that pain either. But I was happy though. I was extremely fortunate as he loved me and I loved him back like nothing else in the world. I wouldn’t trade any moment with me lying on his chest, kissing my forehead, touching my hair for anything in the world. He was simply the sweetest thing and the aim of all my actions.
I wished for the long and happy life with him as I was sure everything would turn out to be wonderful in his hands. He was the first boy who made me dream of getting married and I loved him dearly, praying to God every single night to keep him from danger and misfortune.
Still I lost him.
I have felt I was going crazy in madness of late hour, noises and images were blurred, my actions automatic. I was living, but I wasn’t alive, all my will was gone, his absence was unbearable. Nothing was ever going to make any sense. I was lost without him for ever.
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 5:40 PM UTC
this is where you
own our love
purse your lips and
twist mine
because I am the one who has
to sleep without
you no compromise
you said
as I ran my feet
over
the smooth 12,000
threads but no
body
even the patter of the
rain can’t soothe
it hits my face
in horizontal
crosswind and I sit in
that same fold out
chair on the porch
looking out across the park
at the children playing
in puddles
now when I think of
your highlighted jaw line
I am truly gaping at
the mirror that shiny
shiny reflection where my
eyes pop blue
and I’m magnetized at
your breathy yawn
what’s in your head?
what caused this
boiling
this cream that
settled on my coffee?
actually
already
easily
I am forgetting
interestingly
intriguingly
amazingly
you still taste sweet
when I blast music
in my car and then I hear
myself uttering
thank you.
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 10:50 AM UTC