"bendy" poems
Peter Pan said Wendy -
There's something I want to tell you.
I am neither straight nor bent
But what you might call bendy
Captain Hook stopped reading his e-book and eavesdropped more intently.
Peter knew what his flexible friend meant and spoke to her quite innocently.
Wendy - I am as vanilla as Manilla envelopes in a creamery with whitewashed walls
And identical twin albino Godzillas fighting snow leopards with cue *****
No gimp suit in fifty shades of grey for me.
I am pretty much hormone-free,
More than happy with asexuality,
Playing pirated computer games on one hand
And others' loves that dare not speak their names which fewer understand.
In my world of dreamery certain flights of fancy pass me by.
I love to fly and you Wendy.
And I love you too Peter - Not Everygirl's Ideal of A Real Man.
But I can understand the attraction of Lost Boys and their toys in Neverland.
We've known each other for all these years,
Shared too many troubles, thoughts and fears
To be anything other than in each other's hearts.
If I never visit Neverland again
I know you will always be my closest friend,
What, where, whenever happens
To the bittersweet end.
May we both be dying for an Excellent Adventure,
If not together then separately.
There is nothing better than to know
That you will always be there for me
No matter how we might grow
Into this 21st century.
And one day I may straighten out
But
That's
Not
What
Life's
About.
Captain Hook put down his e-book and Facebooked a friend...............
And that is where our story will end.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 5:47 PM UTC
Stencils and pencils
Sharpener mishaps
Doodles, scribbles
Scrambling shades
Blending sketches
Running axis points
Spherical shadows
Tinting hints and hues
Pencilled portraits
Cruel crooked eyes
The bendy nose
Philosophical muse
Artistically inspired
Shading and fading
Realistically amused
Fused within reality
Surreal tuned vices
Meet-ups and sit ups
Outlines freakily patched
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 8:23 AM UTC
THE TRUE STORY
The wolf sat on the ground.
Little Red Riding Hood
sat at his feet.
"Well, well, well, so
here we are again!"
said Mr. Woolf in a faux
English accent
he had picked up from watching
Peter O'Toole be Lawrence of Arabia.
"Some apple juice my dear
have some apple crumble do!"
enquired Mr. Woolf of his
fairy story cohort.
"I baked it myself you know
molasses instead of sugar
gives it that dark flavour
oh and a little touch of ginger!"
Little Red Riding Hood
wolfed down the apple crumble.
Sipped...slurped
noisily through a bendy straw
annoying the silence that
gathered itself around her.
There was a piece of apple
crumble on her nose.
For a little girl she
had a big appetite.
The wolf ate nothing.
"We can't go on like this
any minute now a child
somewhere in another
somewhere
will start our story
by opening a book.
I will be called upon
to eat you and Granny up.
I don't even like
grannies for gawd's sake!"
Mr. Woolf had tears that
refused to fall.
It's got...it's...got
to somehow stop!"
Little Red Riding Hood burped.
"Pardon!"
So, when the child I used to be
opened the story once
upon a time it was
simply not there.
There was nothing there.
Nothing but a great big ****** blank.
Somewhere in another somewhere
Little Red Riding Hood
swung on a swing
Mr. Woolf pushing her
higher and
higher into
a summer blue
sky.
Oct 7, 2018
Oct 7, 2018 at 3:27 PM UTC
Dear Gawd......I wanna be Pope..
I never ride backwards
on train or bus,
I never profane,
blaspheme or cuss,
I'm limpid,
riven of diaphanous stuff
never been given,
to a female ****
I'm penitent, contrite –
shriven of sin,
compliant, reliant,
I'm bendy n thin.
not quite castrato,
gives good vibrato
to choirboys mullato
with bellybutton fluff.
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 2:19 PM UTC
you know?
we are as flexible as those bendy rulers
those school kids buy to measure things with.
the ruler stands straight on solid ground,
but once the ruler is up in the air,
it just flops over to whatever side.
we are so certain on how we
are all suppose to flop to one side,
but sometimes people just flop
to the opposite side.
it scares people and they say its wrong,
but it's just people flopping to other side.
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 6:39 PM UTC
I like sweets; they're loved by all,
Sold in shiny wrappers; around the world,
Hard, soft, brittle bendy,
they satisfy the mouth comprendy?
But they rot the teeth, and stick to your jumper,
Oh to be an umpa lumpa!
Jan 26, 2020
Jan 26, 2020 at 8:17 PM UTC
Yelling at a screen after-hours
With old friends and passersby
Getting drunk in desperation
And hooking up with a boy I didn't know at all
After smoking a jointswith a boy outside
Who I cared to get to know, quite a bit
Dancing around the house that I couldn't have known
Would become a strange sort of home;
Covered in candle wax and visions of Depropheria
With brand new, beautiful friends
Neck craning upwards in the Grove of
Titans: the closest thing to God on Earth
New beginnings and transient visions of forever
On a magical bus ride to New York City
Making love for the first time in my bed,
Our bodies joining and intertwining while
My future slept on the couch downstairs
A teary goodbye and a journey to a lakeside
In the middle of the night where that future,
Which blew through like a whirlwind of a summer storm,
Was foreshadowed once again
Empty bottles lining your counter and you
Tearing down, just before leaving,
All my fences too
Making love for the last time in your bed
Right before the bubble of us popped,
Leaving me only with a bowl of soapy water
And a bendy straw: so many
New chances ahead
A whole community: the family to get me through
That love just passed and the happy moments too-
Falling asleep next to someone new
And clinking glasses on the dock
With a vegan pizza to top it off
The final falling apart of April to August
And a new heartbeat pulsing in
The quiet spaces between my fingers
Trying a new drug at the top of a tree
And laughing all through the journey,
The LSD nothing and your friendship everything
Flickering fluorescent lights reminding me
Of all I've lost; of all I've gained
In this beautiful year
Of 2013
Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 1:27 PM UTC
Drinking lemonade with a hint of port
ice
fruit
and bendy straw
thinking lemonade with a hint of port
nice
cute
and I want more
Jun 24, 2012
Jun 24, 2012 at 7:46 AM UTC
Read to me about things i'll never see
Imagine I'm sitting up in a hospital bed
Cradled by white cotton pillows infused with bleach
Empty clear bendy plastic cups sit neglected
My usual lipstick stains stayed in the handbag today
Your fingertip bruises decorate me instead
I once thought:
There is no better colour than the colour that they put into your eyes
That is the colour of the liquid that they have put in the drip bag
I might not be able to picture that colour, but I recognise the feeling of it entering my body
Rusty clots and mascara dust barricade it from leaving
Maybe not immediately
Or in a weeks time
But the cells of my heart muscles are becoming saturated with the juices
Becoming preserved in syrup
Seized and breathless
I knew that from the very first time I have been a can of something
Its label torn off
Unsealed and bleeding
And we both knew Duct tape couldn't keep that together
Still my hands were cupped trying to clasp
But now Its embedded under my fingernails.
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
sugar boy,
your heart is caked like a treat,
soft as a bendy gummy;
but your eyes are what get at me,
for they shine like those
glow-in-the-dark rubber bands
that little kids played with.
sugar boy,
you're as sweet
as those dum-dum
lollipops.
your smile is as gentle
as a little, innocent kid
who is listening for
the ice cream truck.
your tears, however,
look so salty and
burn your face with
blackness.
sugar boy,
i'll wipe away those tears.
i'll make them fade
by a soft kiss on the lips.
i'll caress your ginger colored
cheek with my dry hands,
i'll make us both sweet lovers,
both so imperfect.
Apr 11, 2017
Apr 11, 2017 at 12:53 AM UTC
A walk to the bus stop anymore
Is big trouble
The way big steam ships pass by
With a groan and a shudder
Old men walk by
On their stilts up so high
Talking on horns that light up the sky
A pack of boys in black shorts
Go running right by
With glasses taped together
They shoot at the sky
With the single most dangerous
Man made gun
One pointer finger
And one bendy thumb
Yellow toothed smileys
Try to sell you a deal
Powders and diamonds
That make your head reel
But I ain't buyin'
I've had enough
I'm savings up
To get myself out
The stairs on the buildings all coiling and rusted
The mold on the billboards molded and crusted
Two big eyes
And a glass bottle of coke
Oh please please buy me
Must be a joke
Because I work hard for a penny a day
And I'm saving each penny
To run far far away
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 12:39 AM UTC
i am cold in a winter that isn't
so much like winter
i am frozen in the idea of magazines
thinspo
and whatever the opposite of that is
it is still encouraging
i want a ballerina body
i want to surround myself in water and green tea
avocados
i want to be bendy
well, bendier
i want collar bones to push out
ribcage to jut out
thin arms
thin waist
i am tired of stretchmarks and sadness
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 10:49 AM UTC
the roaring wind whistles a polar me,
opposing freely,
a hushful respite,
inside today,
silent me.
sitting in dreams,
stuck in sleeping bags,
the night before,
before the morning snagged,
my lucid want,
my lucid haunt.
outside, the wind and sun,
blow fiercely through,
the dead dried leaves,
the dusty dung,
brown, unsung,
chaos flying,
above the roof,
around the fence,
at pasture’s hooves,
one last breath spent.
again here lie,
the dreams that drift,
the dreams that die,
sounding out February's cry,
singing her last goodbye.
while the trance settles,
and untangles,
and I, sitting quiet,
witnessing the bendy brambles.
~Lana Maree Haas
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 9:13 PM UTC
I don't know how to tell my parents I'm struggling.
Because one minute I'm a giggling
12 year old,
sleeping over at friends houses,
laughing at nothing,
eating junk food
and watching horror movies,
the next minute I'm a bumbling
17 year old,
and someone has pulled the plug out of my bath,
I'm cold and shaking,
alone in a cylinder cube that's spinning and spinning
and spinning out of control,
I can't move my arms because of the speed,
it's throwing me in directions I never knew existed
until now,
as I'm cascading down a waterfall,
plummeting to the ends of the earth,
I scream for mercy at a God I don't know,
and wish I attended church once a week,
prayed to a religion I don't believe,
just to feel comfort wrap their arms around me,
but still, amidst the wreckage
and the bendy, broken bones
and my calloused feet from running around in my head all day,
I pull myself up,
shake my head and watch as my tears fall
from my face, just like the dust from my hair,
and I take a bath,
and I continue.
Even though I ache and I cry,
and I feel I could die,
I soldier on throughout the wind and the rain,
and as the hail falls forth from the skies,
and pandora's box opens
I scream:
"Yes! I made it!"
because I had gotten up that morning and attended my morning classes,
even though I have shapes and welts where the hail had hit,
I still laugh like I'm
12 years old again.
I bandage my wounds,
and watch as they scar,
and although I hide them,
and slander and name call them,
I kiss them now and again to
make sure they heal.
Because I can't be sure when someone will
kiss me to make me recover,
so I kiss myself to sleep every night,
and tell myself I'm worthy of it.
Just so I can wake up and smile.
To a world that's spinning out of my control.
Dec 20, 2017
Dec 20, 2017 at 7:55 PM UTC
You put in a bendy straw
And ******
Out all the color of an already vanilla milkshake
Telling the difference between real and fake
Telling you something you don’t believe
Was a doctor rolling up his sleeves.
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 3:08 PM UTC
as if a breathe of fresh air
I saw you on the olive stream
a haze of bendy trunks and quiet
not knowing where the roots will cling,
but it travels the soil nonetheless
now, to hold you at dusk and dawn,
in the gaps between the tree crowns,
a robust engine in a tender, muted forest
I hum to the echo of a whispering twitch
and as you run from edge to edge
I wait for you at the center
Oct 15, 2023
Oct 15, 2023 at 12:23 AM UTC
Earlier time's my younger days when I was about sixteen
Awareness of the fairer *** when I was sexually keen
**** time's that I did crave why were the girls so mean
When it came to getting ****** my **** was never seen
I thought about their naked ***** whether fat or lean
Activities in **** arts who cares where thier **** had been
If you get your ******* off making sure your **** is bare
Bending over the bed with your cheeks up in the air
Or knelt upon the sofa with my fingers through your hair
I will stuff my hotdog up inside your Derryair
Too many benders coming out and lots of ugly lags
Never enough willing girls and I could never find no slags
There wasn't any nice girls just ******* ***** bags
All I could attract we're bendy boys and horrible *** hags
Getting blow jobs really ****** my **** was never blown
Lots of Fanny's I would poke but none of them were shown
I didn't get no ***** and my seeds were never sown
Just left pulling on my plonker and wanking on my own
I could have had a blow job from all of those Gay boys
Or offered ******* ******** from dried up hobbledy hoys
But I didn't want a crap **** or play with those boys toys
So I never got to **** to much or make that **** noise
Now I am mid forties and I want the same thing now
I still want to stick my **** in some nice meow.
There's only skanky sourpuss or some old stupid cow
I am still in the same boat I have nothing to plough
I still want some nice ***** I'm still in that same phase
Lots of naked ladies ****** in lots of different ways
I'll have to keep on searching until to my dying days
The line is drawn at hobbledy hoys and most definitely gays
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 6:42 AM UTC
I love you.
I love you more than
A warm summer afternoon
On the back porch
With a novel
And an iced tea
In a mason jar
With a pink bendy straw
And music floating on the breeze.
But what I'd love even more than you
Would be to unite you and me
And the back porch and the iced tea
And throw in a dance with that music.
I'd remember that summer day forever.
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 9:22 PM UTC
Love is bendy,
Love is warm.
Love is light in all its forms.
It has no shape,
It has no weight.
It is the nemesis of hate.
Love is forever,
Love is today.
Love feels like it's here to stay.
Jan 9, 2011
Jan 9, 2011 at 1:16 PM UTC
My heart promised me I'd
run away sooner or later but
I never thought it'd end with you
sewing my heart to your hip.
Even though blood got on your leather
seats because of the hole
in my left atrium. You cleaned,
***** and span, with a bendy straw
even though it was our last one
and none more ever came to save you
when you spilled the last cup of
our touching hands.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 2:34 PM UTC
Fully ambulatory with
onanist wrists,
neither whig,
nor tory,
nor communist,
he's loose lipped
loose hipped
quite well equipped,
he's bendy n trendy,
he's buff, n ripped.
not quite castrato
and gives good vibrato
to choirboys mulatto -
with belly button fluff.
Obi.
Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 12:57 PM UTC
Elbows
Knees
keep you
Bendy
And when someone tells you
' I bent over backwards'
and they are not an act in a circus
Just know they are big white lie fibbing.
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 2:33 PM UTC
I don't know how it happens
These dreams
I know they grow from somewhere
I decide to let them in
As though I've forgotten what they do to me
It's a bendy sort of reality
My world, that is
Where I sit alone
Dreaming some lovely dreams
To base my reality from
But then I forget which is which
At least for a while
Then I am reminded
Life is no dream
No sir
And my dreams are the dangerous kind
Not about power
Or money
Or success, no
Those are my ambitions
Never my dreams
My dreams are dangerous
World-changing
Life-altering
Addicting
Terrible as they are beautiful
Ever so tantalizing
Dreams of backyards
Baking
Christmas
Children
Stolen kisses in a hallway
Over laundry and power tools
Your smile
My laugh
Two hearts in a single home
What dreams!
Just dreams, my dream
And I wonder if I figure
Into your dreams?
Sep 27, 2011
Sep 27, 2011 at 5:49 PM UTC