"apostrophes" poems
Back to the scrawling pad
a cheap red notebook
wide ruled, with the perforated pages in it
in case I wanna punch one out easily
Those moleskin daze were measly
Thinking I'm creative and potent
but spending two years
to fill those tiny pages
Please, help me
reinvent the feel and manifest it
to real, accomplishment
Songs, verse, or vice grip words
to change a nation with
- to start a new nation with
Bokonon Bhikkhu
hurling Pikachus down from Mt. Olympus
land on the concrete with lemming splat
Get the metaphor?
I don't. Make your own up
I just an absurdest
A poor boy humming Queen
and writing rap atrocities
Nah, the rap "apocalypse"
minus all the apostrophes
Write so much anything anyone says
from now until oblivion
was just quoting me!
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 12:38 PM UTC
I lived my half dictionary life before I could
comprehend compulsory compromises.
Collectors arise, disguises and devices beeping,
chastising my blindness.
Gather geography from Afghanistan and Myanmar
graciously growing gold gilded gift horses,
gleefully gloating about floating far away.
My hoof beats above concrete match my heart’s defeat
across borders and mountains
embroidering cardboard cut-outs
calling deserts, decorating front covers.
Exhaling handcrafted letters for my missing half,
half demanding highest caliber commanders and half commanding completion.
Jade jays joyfully lay arrays of bouquets
fragile flowers decay faraway
in jawbones and jail cells.
Begging farewells in a hotel’s lobby
began my hobby,
early morning coffee and carbon copies
concurringly cocky around his dead body.
Gang ciphers for cartels are
Christmas bells hissing at collars,
half dollars embellishing bar crawlers
godfathers hollering at car haulers.
Atrocities across cities attack,
attachable atrophies audibly ambush arthritic anthologies.
Anomalies begin apologies between apostrophes,
advancing autonomy arousing ancient animosities.
All eluding Antarctica,
giant frozen crests, multi-coloured ice
hidden in my illustrations
anxious for my distant half.
Friday cassettes and cigarettes
deliberately making bets following “M”.
Breaking bindings and finding “beta” in alphabet,
may feasibly end in debt.
Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 1:51 PM UTC
I fell into a dream
waking up into a
cookie-scented utopia
of apostrophes that indicated
ownership
because it was Marc's cookie
and participles grasped and
secured
like a balloon tied to a toddler's hand
I fell into a dream
where nothing was kool or
rite
and everything had been
twice read, reviewed, evaluated, and
deemed worthy
like the cupcakes that get placed
on the plate in a
Cupcake War
I fell into a dream
of silence during silent work time
not invaded by a slithering serpent
fork-tongued and effulgent with ideas
expressing expressions
idioms cliches redundancies falsehoods
lies
and the silence hung like
an anticipated snow
cold cloaking with excitement
and a feeling of being completely
awake.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 11:26 AM UTC
Punctuation marks the hesitancy in this conversation and
I can't help but dwell on words resting unspoken between
commas, ellipses and apostrophes;the
Spaces between letters where sounds sleep, vibrations
strike empty chords and fall short of expression.
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 7:52 PM UTC
You leave the apostrophes to someone else, I can't even make it in to 'im', instead I'm writing papers about the Oneida and Jonestown murders.
The television is on, the air purifier
is dying. I can hear the ***** fan belt of my laptop on the fritz or the fizzy bubbles of
The Cranberry Redbull that I'm trying.
I could be a great sport. Ya know, anything you want.
Jump to.
Make the Miso soup, clear off the kitchen table, buy brand new markers with no recent pictures drawn into their nibs.
Throw in comfy pants. I don't know what else I have to offer, a clean bath? Some books? A magazine?
The weather is exciting, we could call get Pneumonia or at least share a drink and catch Hep-C,
Put our children together to catch the gift of Shingles. A motorcycle toy for my Uritis it is better. The roses from the sweater paired with leather, leggings, and a kick *** song. Inside we can talk about his hair cut and going to California. I'm intimidated by you moreover when you tell me you can eat airplanes with only your bare hands. And even if I'm a bore, I still have Streptococcus. So seal and deliver. My cerulean goddess, with the best, thank thank you for the nightmare fever you stole from the words I wrote. And at the end of your book you don't have to cop out and fall along a crippled sky. With crippled words, verbs, and losers. Score cards of different colors. Tunics proud as the walk to the river we voted from Baptism to demon-voter. Stand and deliver, flora and fauna that threatens to eat our home.
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 3:11 AM UTC
I punctuate with close precision,
aware of where
I'm placing my semi-colons and
dashes,
using Oxford commas
like a grammar geek.
Your punctuation always bothers me
but you, with your misplaced apostrophes
and oddly abbreviated words
that you cradle in speech marks,
never care.
You were constantly callous in your conduct,
your handling of punctuation marks.
I assumed you never understood
the significance I attached to your words.
I could feel the excitement
and anxiety and apprehension
build in my belly every time
with your exclamation points!
I could feel my brows furrow together
deep in confusion,
every time you sent me just
one little question mark?
I suppose I never did tell you this
but when last month you ended your sentence
(accidentally, of course) with a dash,
well, I knew then that we’d be for ever.
and when last week you sent me
a comma to end your speech
I knew for certain that
more was to come.
but I see now it was silly
to attach such hope to a hyphen
because yesterday you concluded
with the biggest full stop I've ever seen
and let me know that that was all.
I felt that period’s punch
deep inside my gut
like you were trying to make me
throw up my jam and toast.
I had never before known
one small,
simple
dot
to be so powerful
and hurt so much.
It did though,
and you couldn't even tell-
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 3:56 AM UTC
Of course we always do _learn_,
while attending any _schools_.
That should then have us _concern_,
how we must comprehend _rules_!
Do you know what “you’re” _means_?
It is both “you are” _combined_!
Those two words'd make _teams_:
can't you keep them in _mind_?!
Teachers'd teach us for _sure_,
having us properly study a _lot_.
When I see “_your_” for “_you’re_”,
my mind steams up, pretty _hot_!
Gosh, it's really, being so _weird_:
lots of folks just don't _understand_.
People'd need their heads _cleared_,
considering grammar's _command_!
Sheesh, guys, _please_ of _now_ upon _you_: how we need _APOSTROPHES_ with "_re_"!
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 10:00 PM UTC
Leave these other guys desensitized.
Sacrificial activism
stop telling these lies
Lyrical capitalism
Deception is precession
Dark future; bright prison
Dark past; bright vision
Stuck inside; minds prism
All equal BUT, what division?
Quest, what?
New edition.
Not what eye envisioned.
Isosceles try angles
Highs lighten; the atrocities
Apostrophes trapping trophies
Kings fallen; to their knees
Ruled by their needs
The heinous comes,
with the mockeries.
Fable creatures; feeble needs.
Dream Chasers see, wicked dreams.
The life of an artist is not all that it seems: see what I mean?
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 1:17 PM UTC
I meant it to be
A beautiful moment
Now punctuated
By wet apostrophes.
My possessive nature hangs on high
Claiming accountability
For the balance of these events.
The credit of her salted raindrops
Deposited in my heart’s ocean
Is a debit of worry
In our joint account of emotion.
But I know…
The morning was still
But my blood raced.
I placed kisses
On her window sills
As she opens the gates of her face.
To meet her gaze
For accepted entrance
To the garden of Eden.
Though her rivers were flowing
My ark was a rubber tree
So we forced the dam open
Which caused a flood of memories
To rush her veins.
She turned Eve recalling Adam’s selfish lust
In my eyes
And locked up.
Never expecting that I’d cause
The chains of her past to bind her so painfully
I stopped.
But I know…
How she blankets herself
In the wounds
He inflicted.
Like a burn victim
Feigning strength
When every move hurts.
I offered to be a brick house
Wherein she can be glass.
A fragile rainstorm
With cries of thunder.
Though she’s the one apologizing
I’m the one that feels at fault
As I wipe the tears that threaten to stain her pillow.
I wash the burning desire for her cavity
Out of my soul.
This sweet tooth
Has crumbled our rites of passion.
So in my love, I’ll abstain
From hurting her again
To soothe the pain
She holds firm in her brain.
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 8:05 PM UTC
mom ought to be
home soon
and the door will creak open, like
a shot of red lightening soda pop
pop pop
this web is well-spun, isn't it?
aint it. isn't. aint. apostrophes stuck
to the ends of our tongues like
candy from the local metaphor shop, where
the commas and the poems get
together
to rhyme about their punctuated lives.
May 26, 2010
May 26, 2010 at 4:12 PM UTC
apostrophes when she smiles
he’d been driving for miles
her smile in his head
like bumps in the road
too many things unsaid
and things spoken he couldn’t decode
but he thought of her instead
and the way her smile glowed
Nov 25, 2019
Nov 25, 2019 at 12:35 PM UTC
Rainy Reign.
Sunshine no longer ruled
Smiles put into chains
Grey ushered a revolution in the skies
Banishing the blue
As if he knew
That teary waters threatened a breakthrough
Seemed it was a promise soon to come true
Rainy Reign.
We never welcomed change
Flowers shriveled up
Free roaming creatures escaped searching for a cage
At least they have roofs over their heads right
A new chapter is hard to read
When the tears dank the book so much the words become impossible to see
Rainy Reign.
The forest cries
No one hears
Thunder shouts catastrophe
Your new ruler is here
You have all to fear
If history was written, the roses only defense would serve as nothing more than sharp apostrophes
Rainy Reign.
Water is a wish in draughts
A neglected commodity in stable homes
But see it’s forces in storms and you’ll believe in witchcraft
So what can we do
Cover your head
Submit to the seasonal thread
Accept your pockets can’t bring change
And just hope when your time comes
It comes fast enough that you never look transition in the face
Rainy Reign.
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
"I've missed you so much,"
I prepare as I walk through the door.
The rich scent of sweet cream
waffle cones and
brownie chunks
float in the air as thick as
smoke
in a happy car.
Her eyes are small and poignant,
tiny apostrophes,
commas beneath her blonde curls.
I stand by the door as she helps a customer.
I've missed her so much.
She glances up and her
perpetual glare fades.
The commas light up,
brilliant,
and the sentence is completed
by the curl of her lips.
I love that smile.
"I've missed you so much."
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 4:56 PM UTC
Green Eggs and Hamlet. i will eat that.
what planet are you from ? at this angle, it seems apostrophes
and blue mint mist... none of those
false gods
you came in here
with.
and a stone plum.
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 11:06 AM UTC
There is a part of me
That will always look for you
In between lines of poetry books
Rapid Blinks of commas,,,,,,, and a beating'
heart of apostrophes'
You will be my diaphragm expanding opening quotation marks"
Filling my lungs with all that you are. Questions? of us, exclamations! of desire, invaders slashing/ to break our sentences up.
So we are no longer one, just two seperate paragraphs
However, but, moreover
Itching to close together, unspoken words
Conjunctions bringing us further, but closer and the odd semicolon; separating us once more
Never the closing contracting final remark"
We have no full stop. no ending
We're simply waiting waiting for our next breath, an ellipses...... In motion
And so i stand here, looking out into the world, waiting for the next time you fill my lungs, oxygenated words of love carrying them selves into every blood vessel.
Just one more eternal breath
One more beating heart
One more exclamation of allure!
And so i continue to look for you
In between every line of poetry and punctuation I see
Forever
and
always
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 6:03 PM UTC
in peripheral vision lives a little all seeing wizard
wand in hand he waves in apostrophes
but if like me you are we ignore
go on a merry path until;
the sun seems to no longer shine again,
handcuffs get slapped on,
the electricity goes off,
some quick tow truck finds your title loan ride,
or you wake up....
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 9:25 PM UTC
theres something so final about a period
which is as it should be
commas always get in the way
coming and going like anxious insects
trying to make themselves important
as they scatter over a page
already overrun with too many words
question marks have a slightly
swooping profile curve just above
a period
theyre kind of elegant
they remind me of a swan
with a regal attitude
i saw once on a pretty pond
parentheses embrace words like **** curves
and brackets are like steel gray bookends
fencing words in
exclamation points are so abrupt
and rude and angry
like an outburst
in a classroom
like fireworks
in a funeral parlor
dont mess with them
they mean business
hyphens dashes colons semicolons
apostrophes
and quotation marks
that surround what we say
and dont forget the ellipses that
take the place of
words we omit
sometimes i like to write stories and poems
with no punctuation no capitalization
no grammatical rationale whatsoever
dare i ask
how did i do
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 3:23 PM UTC
.Just look past these oldtrees, these cold windows;where slow days creep-- like sea turtles among billowy cloudsplaying the apostrophes!Take me back to thelittle green placewhere that small housefelt so alive like skin.Where we smoked our cigarettes and dragged the muddy river. Moments seemed moretender in the bare face of love back when the world was warm. Oh! but that was all once upon a time--when death feared life..
Feb 22, 2010
Feb 22, 2010 at 4:36 PM UTC
dear friend,
today I’m writing a letter to you and me, but its not necessarily for me since i already know what this encasing of sentences shall hold.
right now, I’m listening to Little Dragon – Twice. twice times two. i figured i should write this letter because i am afraid of the power of the tongue so i write because words have a lesser effect on paper/internet/webpages.
i need to ask you something – what is my purpose? i was told to never leave home without it but i can’t seem to find it. I once went out to see people with my purpose in my pocket and it kinda fell out so i was wandering if you can help me look for it. i know we live distances apart but what it went to find you so you can find me?
i am 1 in every thought that you might think and you might think i am crazy or insane or weird but its true because it’s the same thing with you.
people keep saying ‘be you’ and i say it too but how do you tell someone to be themselves if you in the morning wake up looking like the people around you. there is no ‘real ***** or ‘the real me’, its an endless line of recycled personalities.
i learned that i am a human being. that might seem strange but i not many people know that they are human, they are so focused on impressing and keeping up with nothing that its taking their everything.
i learned that God shaped tears the way he shaped raindrops but he did not create rainbows to come out of our eyes because he wanted to remind us that whatever struggle, pain, shame we’re only human and that is ok. that is good.
and i hope you realise that i write in lowercase. this is how i make myself feel good.
i learned that my voice is voiced through written word and the only way i can get you to listen is to have you read.
i know that you’re a human, with a face and a body and a soul. and that Heaven is watching over you.
i know that you’re 1 in every thought that i think. right now, I’m listening to Little Dragon – Twice. i strike a heart with an arrow and a bow, whatever you take from me surely you will forever know. you and i will forever glow.
i don’t want to be called a writer (because too people now use this ‘title’ to compete/impress and art to me isn’t competition or impression) . we can use it for reference, but you should know that i am merely a kid who constructs sentences for a living. steady living.
i know that politicians tell people the ‘truth’ and i wrote that in apostrophes because I was trying to be sarcastic.
i fell on my head but i didn’t lose.
sincurly,
me.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
right there between those apostrophes
dashes or commas
The symmetry of
openness inside
Two quotation marks
an ellipsis ...
awaiting for
a period to finish
right.
Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 9:54 PM UTC
When the words
All run together
And the apostrophes
Look tired.
When the asterisks
Are snowflakes
And your work is
Uninspired
It's time to gather
Up your kit
& time to rest
Your head
When you see
The page begin
To peel...
it's time to go to bed!
G'night all!
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 9:41 AM UTC
Today I eschew all matters political
and examine a subject I consider quite critical.
The greatest invention in man’s history
is, IMHO, the apostrophe.
You must admit it’s quite impressive
even if sometimes it’s a tad possessive.
Suppose, if you will, you need to drop one small letter
(because somehow shorter is always better)
’tis the thing that shows any gal or feller
That you’re not just a miserable, terrible speller.
So go on, drop your letters with wild abandon
and know the apostrophe will be there to stand in.
Just one other thing before I call it quits–
concerning the fuss about its and it’s.
It’s an issue for some that is really quite raw
Because they think that possession’s nine tenths of the law.
But I tell you now without any deceptions
In life there will always be some small exceptions.
“It” owns an apostrophe, I hear some of you cry,
But its apostrophe’s useless unless it loses an I.
Oct 13, 2017
Oct 13, 2017 at 1:10 PM UTC
today, i will wake up and think of you. the first thing will be about how your eyes had the color of all the storms that left this year. next will be your hair, in flaming red, as if to make up for all the colors your heart has been drained of for loving me. then, i will think of the way i wrote you poems amid writer’s block; every line, a compulsion, an obsession of i love you's rephrased. i will think of the feel of your skin, cold, but burning, like mercury fires crashing to the poles.
then, i will remember the chipped nails and back scratches and the heat of the whiskey, rushing from your mouth to mine. i will remember october and her rooftop letters we sealed with the skyline's silhouette. i will remember how they have become a foliage of words i refused to stop writing — and words you refused to read. i will remember how we wished to be paper cranes flung to the sun, how i have become icarus incarnate, falling, and crashing back to the earth. today, i will wake up and remember how loving you became my flight and my downfall. i will let the pain eat me up, rip my lungs, one flashback at a time. i will let the pain break me and break me and break me until there's nothing left to break.
and then one day, i will wake up darling, without sleeping next to make-believe alternate endings, without addressing you in apostrophes, and without the storms tailored to be metaphors for you. one day, i will wake up without wondering if you were ever hurt the way i was. i will wake up without thinking of you. i will wake up without the slightest traces of pain.
and then i will let you go.
Aug 29, 2019
Aug 29, 2019 at 9:56 AM UTC