"blockhead" poems
The plane is emotion.
The form is a gentle rider,
she pushes bullets off cliffs, she hugs the stars.
Catches the moon eyeing her with one
great big hand wrapped on its ****
spins the bell of her dress
round and round.
Sifted from the Earth, man moody
cleft in heaps of his entrails,
no progress has been made.
My metal mother pulls hula hoops for zulu,
she rips down the shelves and pulls
Bobby Dylan from the wall. She says,
"grrrplleeopzhrka." And the smoke gets into
my eyes and burns my nostrils too.
In the great wind screen, footprints of man,
Native American blood weeps on my bright
Summer burning, no regency cleared. The
outlook denied. It sits stagnant, maddening
with its blockhead on sideways. Heavy, old
mutter hubbard wilting gold in her stare.
Mess comes. She spoils, her skin is loud
and anointed, her fecund white placard
is thinner than air. People look at each other,
a goblin, two trollops, the green woolen winter-wear
of a soldier in despair. Only a putrid noon, escaping,
cuts the flesh from the garden. Cuts out all the weakness,
the hope, the love, every thing owned, every one cleared.
The skin trap and oyster flap. The rich mixture of voices,
nothing holds common that bond, that few could look upon,
that youth could-
none of the old things work anymore.
Just a wicked boredom trickling in blood down her legs, just
the lust trickling down her legs, dear mommy, I obey.
And when the summer months set in mahogany, and the icicle
feat swallows us up, dear-
death
Winter
lips
moths buzzing
mouths
fuzzz
your sweet bomb
bon bon
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
Before me lies a mass of shapeless days,
Unseparated atoms, and I must
Sort them apart and live them. Sifted dust
Covers the formless heap. Reprieves, delays,
There are none, ever. As a monk who prays
The sliding beads asunder, so I ******
Each tasteless particle aside, and just
Begin again the task which never stays.
And I have known a glory of great suns,
When days flashed by, pulsing with joy and fire!
Drunk bubbled wine in goblets of desire,
And felt the whipped blood laughing as it runs!
Spilt is that liquor, my too hasty hand
Threw down the cup, and did not understand.
2.2k
we used to play
you used to call
and now we email
back & forth
once in awhile ~
I sign my new name:
love you, Samasati
but I feel the same,
clinging to a pipe dream;
however, aware of the glum analogy that:
other hearts are to me as my heart is to you
and still forgiveness is
an issue.
hypocritical overly heartswelled idiot;
blockhead, nitwit;
I am.
but when you told me
you miss me,
you miss my ******
you miss my intensity,
all I could muster up was
a hardy laugh.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 10:41 AM UTC
Perfection
Jenga
Blockhead
Risk
Twister
30 seconds
Kerplunk
Luck of the Draw
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC
.
AAUGH!!!
G oo d g r,ief
I c a n't stan d
it. I just c an't
stand it. Y uck!
I've bbeen kissed
by a dog! I have
dog germs! I love
mankind, i t's
people I can't
stand. Happiness
is a warm ****
You blockhead !
In the book of life, the answers
aren't in the back. N othing takes the
taste out of pe a n u t b u t ter
quite like unrequited love
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 3:31 PM UTC
They call me:..
Chuckleheaded Snollygoster
a.k.a
Blockhead Unscrupulous Individual
a.k.a
Doltish Unprincipled Human-being
a.k.a
Dull Conscienceless Organism
I just call myself:..
a Stupid Person!
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 11:00 AM UTC
My chest is my mast
My eyes the crows nest
and my mind the pest
My rib cage is the hull
My jaw the figurehead
and my mind the blockhead
My ears are my anchor
My eyes its chains
That my mind all stains
My Spine is the keel
My veins the crew
And my mind is askew
My soul is my captain
My heart the navigator
and my mind the perpetrator
My name is the Crest
That my mind will infest
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 10:13 PM UTC
I don't have writer's block,
I just don't write.
If there was ever a block,
It's my blockhead.
So, why am I writing this?
I don't know.
Maybe there is a hole in my block.
Does this mean I can write again?
Maybe something that feels right?
I don't know.
Is there even anything that I know?
I don't know.
Maybe it's that I have writer's block.
Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 3:35 PM UTC
Unveiling gate of heaven made open,
Even without regular silver or token.
I am the password, i make way even for words unsaid.
Give me, even if u are busy or may be stingy.
Just thanks!
Easy to forget but difficult to remember to render.
Busy brain stocked up not to be shared,
What's in there?
'Sweet cherry pie' its me you forgot.
Was here all in your hands not pocket. but You left me in the depth of your blockhead.
Heart?oh! whatever!you can't just keep!
Heaps of plans,pranks,worries,memories pushed and made me sick.
Pressing forth made me sink.
Holding the key made me special.
Breaking all doors essential.
Ceiling,concealing not just revealing.
If am not given, you will have a new me.
I'm not thy "Thanks giving
Jun 18, 2017
Jun 18, 2017 at 5:17 AM UTC
this was meant to be a minute,
but then i began to spin it
and the words just took a hold,
so bold so bright
thrown like torches
into the indigo night
casting shadows on the back of
the retreating blocked,
blockhead blight,
setting grass and tree alight,
loosing now the tight hold
of poetblock fear
loosening the reins of rage
making the transition
into the feathered thing
that takes flight
and flys upward
on mirrored wing
to the sky,
not tethered
but also raw
and unweathered
unlimited by time,
but destined to fall
as energy becomes
one with all,
did not touch moon ,
did not see the sun
but this minutě wordmoth
soared and swooped
before it's minute was done
And now it flutters
down to earth,
saited and pleased
to have been..
birthed, never to die
but become byte eternal,
read once twice or more..
does not matter
wordmoths
have learnt
never
try to keep score
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 5:35 PM UTC
Maybe I choose to stay awake
so my mind will be blocked
with exhausting headaches--
too painful to even try and think--
then I will easily drift away to sleep.
To never let your name
be the last thought when
I shut my eyes keep.
Jul 8, 2016
Jul 8, 2016 at 9:28 AM UTC
Nattering **** head of negativity
Birdbrain, half-wit *****
Can’t count on to get on
Ever a nerd twerp blockhead
Braindead- can’t follow a single thread
Instead
Dance to the strings of your puppet poodle
You’re boring attempts are feudal
You’re as appetizing as a ten-day-old strudel
Square head, *********** yoyo, bozo
Backhoe cargo
Exciting as bread dough
Rising
Not surprising
That I’m so despising
You’re constant attempts at upstaging
Left me
Utterly disengaging
Your raging
Left me
Utterly disengaging
Your blaming
Left me
Utterly disengaging
Your constant contradictions left me
With a drug addiction
I’m not blaming
Just saying
Praying for the end
But wait
Why all the hate?
What hate?
Isn’t the mirror
Reflecting the interior
Can anyone save me from my nightmare?
Scared
That must be it
I mean me.
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 1:24 PM UTC