"becon" poems
The cop asked me for my license to which
I replied what the hell is that.
Officer Tillman I belive i met your wife in a restroom
down at the laundrymat.
She didnt do ya justice.
Cause you arent all that ugly
but you are kinda fat.
No my last name isnt Knoxville but I
sure had some fun in Tennessee.
Met darlin that left a burnin feelin behind just for me.
My life is like a tweenty four hour cartoon.
A wreckless wonder.
If ya wanna ride along theres always room.
Gotta babydoll I often reffer to as Tinker.
She's my favorite semi insane funsize drinker.
Got a amigo or two.
Some fake ID's cause some people just happen to be looking
for me.
I thought you already knew.
Some people like to hate.
Clive. Forrest. Ian.
Dont be jelouse your still living togather in the same basement
no hope ever having none inflatable
date.
Iv'e taken some pretty hard licks.
Put my mind in a blender .
Now all im left with is becon bits.
Im the Jackass of poetry alone I hold the crown.
Some might call me a village idoit.
But I would say im most fun fella in town.
And if ya read this work and still cant see.
You can go to hell.
And thats one thing apon me my imaginary friends
and my little badass tinker agree.
Oct 18, 2009
Oct 18, 2009 at 11:55 AM UTC
The time I felt tummy hurts
Those that needn't the doctor
Those of hunger strikes in me
I clinged to worry for myself
Before my life discovery.
Was too used to pizza and burgers
Nothing from my own homeland
Though in my search I fell in a direction
An improved variety tabled for us
Down the table I sat, not popular to the world but my tummy signed in
Lost my taste buds to only this
To that I ate like a hired thief in full bites
The bells of Hawaiian, becon, chicken, sausage, all for One
A Rollecks.....
Marked my anniversary of love for snacks
The place whose memory runs in my blood
The Ugandan Nemo's,
Imprisoned my love for Rollecks
One of a kind shared without regrets
Aug 30, 2015
Aug 30, 2015 at 1:19 AM UTC
Immune to the depravity.
Enslaved to the creativity.
A weaken soul, to the artist brush.
A becon of burning coals, in the artisans stove.
Two sides of the same coin.
We are writers.
We are painters.
We are smelters.
We are dancers.
We are singers.
We are art.
We are, us.
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 10:55 AM UTC
Miles go I seldom care.
None cross the path fear is adrug I need to exist.
The road my hunting ground night my world.
In my view the lights a becon caliing the road holds no mercy.
The weak shall be erased.
Im a dealer in pain.
Hell's highway calls me every mile is a battle of will.
Do you know my name?
speak it in fear of long nights traveling alone.
Souls matter none for it's the flesh I yern to own.
Dec 18, 2010
Dec 18, 2010 at 3:41 PM UTC
Its hard to concentrate
When your thoughts rattle around
Like machinegun fire
Caught in complicated clockwork
Trying to captivate
One cognitive idea
About Life
Conglomerate
While the tapestries
Of cliches attempt
To coalesce as they
Cascade
Only to fall away
As they dribble out my ears
The critics are unimpressed.
There is no one on this earth
Who is still interested
In simple lyrics backed by
Overwhelming overtures
When the focus is on expenditures
And the bottom line wont budge
Its as if it holds a grudge
Torturing visionary artists
Hiding in their closets
From monsters under the bed
And detained by superego authorities
While alone and afraid
Locked in Negative Headspace
But the artists becon of light
Is an ironic twist of common life
In a pedestrian plight
Captured on 8mm film
And put on Lifetime.
How do you write a song when
The melody is wrong
But the lyrics flow from the hand
Like the last latent ramblings
Of a dying, possessed man
Onto the page as
The imaginary lines fade
And the surreal becomes real
And in your head its something you can hear
In your gut, its something you can feel
But the fingers on the guitar
Cant catch these falling stars
And before we go to far
Its time to take a step back
To breathe
The guitar bleeds
But its blood isnt music
And if you turn away you lose it
As the sound gets trapped behind
The saturated limitations of the mind
The brass threads slowly unwind
Only to stab you in the neck.
And still,
The critics are unimpressed.
May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 8:57 AM UTC
We have no choice in our birth
Or the time we are brought into this earth
Henceforth tis only by a want
A choice not to be flaunt
It's a fight that will only put on delay
The day when we kiss this world away
Destined for a date unfathomable
But to some the beauty is discoverable
Each soul lives by self a self goal
Wonderful wants tucked into a unique skull
To some the end is a terrible fear
Others becon it near
"Love thy neighbor"
They may be poor
Or
Shut you out with the slam of a door
But, if you love you can do no more
We will all face the hooded reaper
It can end in a gentle whisper
Or a terrible fight of terror
For many including i
We don't wish to die
But there are those who suffer
Whose choice to live is to worse than the other
We all wish to save eachother
And yet must discover
Dieing is a salvation
To a burdened soul without any hope of a collection
Of their deserved happy memories
Denied to them since infancies
As awful truths as these
Death is no disease
I love you
And no matter what may be
That is true
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 10:52 PM UTC
The last fruit and vegetable shop closed today ,
part of Ashford has gone away ,
next door to the church for fifty years ,
Dave and Jim and Brian will never get old .
Vegetables with no cling film ,
or selefane wrapping ,
Mushrooms as large as you’re hand ,
Kale in bundles not sold in plastic bags ,
Plumbs prunes and potatoes.
Peaches apples and pears ,
purple brocole all tied in a bundle ,
all sold in brown paper bags .
The fish man arrived once a week ,
Where from Grimsbys shores we bought . .
The bells rang out on Sundays,
Where at Christmas,
Trees would be bought ,
Lined one by one .
So tomorrow the supermarket s will becon ,
with their plastic wrapping and plastic bags ,
So spare a thought for the fruit and veg ,
With no plastic wrapping and celefane veg ,
the old shop where the community shed a tear ,
for Ashford’s last fruit and veg ,
has been and left here .
Last night I saw a picture ,
from 1910 ,
yes I guess they were still there way back then .
Mar 2, 2019
Mar 2, 2019 at 9:54 AM UTC
Time is a measure of where you have been
Where you are going and when you were seen
Its a friend to your journey a remimder of place
A pull on the heart strings when thoughts are misplaced
So time is of essence!
For you dont hold it at all
It just moves beside you, no becon no call.
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 4:01 PM UTC
I do not write words of passion or sorrow, I write them for thoughts who won't see tomorrow. For she was my angel who fell from grace, ice to my fire she left not a trace. I am Able, Electra, shadow and fire. I come for thoughts who evil inspires. The fire in my belly is quite literal. my friends are the 4, there are worse things then death, and worse things than war. 7 sins and 9 ways to hell. I will be there as well. I will becon you here as a angel on fire, I will carve a path in your blood to my little hell. And we will rest here forever. Now isn't that swell.
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 11:03 PM UTC
I looked inside my dark places
I walked miles by day
Further at night, in my mind
I saw faces of others
Twisted by lifes trials
Tear reddened cheeks
Broken smiles
I had seen enough for any lifetime
Each day repeated
Like water dripping on a prisoner
Serving no purpose other than to becon insanity
But it was already here
Madness all around
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC
I log onto the website and instantly check
did I get a message from her yet?
She is so adorable
she has such a sweet soul
How do I know this?
Through her poems
I start to get to know her
Through our breif talks
I get to understand her
She has so much potential
Her work just blows me away
So what if shes only 15?
age is just a number
Age doesnt mean a thing
She is a breath of fresh air
Brightening my day
with her excited messages
I cant help my little smile
So on here I intoduced her
knowing it will help
her already shining work
become a becon of hope
So Hey
LittleMsPink
WELCOME
TO HELLOPOETRY
:-D
From your friend
Fenix Flight
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 10:01 AM UTC
A RADOX LIFE...
Peace at last ,alone in the bath
wondering how long this may last..
water steams so hot I add extra cold, mix with me toe..
Radox stress relief bubbles foaming suds.
I lye within this little peace of heaven,
stretch out in me giant bath,
as you see im a tall lass.
At last..the tension unraveled..
like the bog roll I see beside me,
the kids earlier were playing mummies..
Not me no, the Egyptian kind..
But this bath tomb now cradles me.
Looking down I think greenpeace could becon,
I'd give shamoo a swim for her money I reckon.
peace at last, alone in the bath,
wash away stress of the day.
Christ I'd be scrubbing night and day.
Red circles I inspect on my legs,
was shot earlier by a nerf gun.
Until dead..
Several times..
Again n again.
I can hear my husband downstairs,
playing referee with the girls that I'm blessed.
I'm staying hear as my ears repair,
my girls how I love them dear.
As I'm preening daily tensions away,
not much longer in hear can I stay.
for my toes n fingers wrinkle,
may also have tinkled...
As I pull the plug clean away.
Looking like a super sized rhubarb and custard..
Pink **** n backs of me knees,
I disembark the comforts of the bath.
slightly chilled now feeling at ease.
Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 4:05 PM UTC
Leave me here.
I can't imagine what else to do with myself, or my life.
There isnt anything interesting.
The amusing moments only lasts for five seconds.
I becon for help.
I reckon that it wont work.
I'm not that old yet, and I already take my youth for granted.
I'd rant it all out, but I don't know what to say.
It's nice that you want to help.
But I'm stuck on this shelf, I need to help myself.
Leave me here please.
Don't tease me, if I nees your help, I will come to you
I can do this..
I hope
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 10:31 AM UTC
I want her to know..how much she really means to me.....I want to be there when she falls .....always answer when she calls
If she sheds a tear....tell her I will always be near....when she wants to talk......or maybe just take a walk
Anytime she needs me ......I will be where ever she wants me to be
So Baby if the sun refuses to shine.....I will reassure you that everything will be just fine......I want to let her know that when ever she needs me I will always be there
Baby so if our train slips the track.....I will always make sure we make it back
These shoulders are not just here for me .......they will be there for you to lay your head upon can't you see
So all I am trying to say I will always be there when you need me......just call me once and you will see
If the day is just out of whack......or if those hornets are ready to attack ......it doesn't matter what it is big or small ....or even if it's nothing at all
That is what I am trying to say......I will always be at your becon call......
Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 10:31 PM UTC
3:16 am
I am missing you.
I am missing the
still beat
of your
heart.
I am missing the
way your body
fits beside
mine and
warms me.
I am missing
your sleepy
green eyes
and the way they
becon me
back to my
slumber.
3:17 am
I am missing you.
(m.a.)
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 2:49 AM UTC
i have good and bad days. its just that the bad days outnumber the good ones. and sometimes the bad days get really bad and i lose myself in my thoughts. sometimes the bad days get so bad that i can feel my heart aching and trying to burst out of my body. sometimes the bad days get so bad that i forget to treat myself like person and instead, beat myself with sledgehammers and hockey sticks. but sometimes the good days are so good that i skip around dancing and singing all day. i smile and laugh and forget the bad things and become this becon of light. i just shine and shine and infect everyone around me with all the pure happiness i project. sometimes the good days are just the day where i dont break down. sometimes i have good days and sometimes i have bad days. im hopeful that the good days will outnumber the bad ones, eventually.
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 1:58 PM UTC