"bobbin" poems
Birds are flyin' south for winter.
Here's the Weird-Bird headin' north,
Wings a-flappin', beak a-chatterin',
Cold head bobbin' back 'n' forth.
He says, "It's not that I like ice
Or freezin' winds and snowy ground.
It's just sometimes it's kind of nice
To be the only bird in town."
12.7k
Renaissance Man
mathematician, painter and poet
a genius of an engineer
I wish I could have met the man
or even better if he were here
I would follow him everywhere
absorbing as much as I could
trying to collect his brilliance in a jar
you know most surely I would
his curiosity and imagination
equaled by few mortals ever known
his feats of undeniable skills
his seeds of desire forever grown
the anatomical research he started
unequaled technological ingenuity
the beautiful Mona Lisa's face
the Last Supper reflects his ASSIDUITY
the creator of simple bobbin winder
the theory of plate tectonics
solar power and hydrodynamics too
his thoughts on moving robotics
yes he was a marvelous genius
his love of life will live on forever
sharing his unending reaching mind
we can marvel at this man together
Gomer LePoet ....
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 11:40 AM UTC
I wake up and see so many things,
always different from yesterday.
Today I'm going fishing.
But I must not allow myself
to focus on the worms or
on the death of the worms,
We went out early in the morning,
before sunrise,
The early bird catches the worm;
the early worm catches the prize.
And we caught many more
than the others!!
Getting up before sunrise
is a secret known to the wise.
On the end of my cane pole, a bamboo stick, really,
hangs a thin fishing line, about twenty feet out,
Attached with a bobbin, a lead sinker and a hook
Threaded on the hook is the worm
which I've lowered into the water
from the pole I'm dangling from
the low dock jutting out into the pond
I see the first fish I catch!
I feel powerful and horrible
and proud at being the best!
My catch is the biggest one yet!
It is similar to a cat chasing a bird.
The bird is innocent,
but the cat gives in to the chase
with no ill will, instead,
blessed by God, the gift...to be a cat.
It is not easy being a cat.
God gave to the cat, nine lives
to fall back on, in case of being
thrown off a roof by a ruthless
boy who is curious to see
if it will land on it's feet.
The cat is now down to eight
A bird chased by a teenage kitten
must learn to fly if it's to survive.
Nature's timing for the offspring
does not support favoritism.
But it happens anyway.
There is always one in the nest
That the mother bird loves the best.
Feb 11, 2011
Feb 11, 2011 at 11:31 AM UTC
There's a big deal made these days
About ****** harassment at work
And quite rightly so
Who needs a heavy breathing half-wit
Slobbering over them at work?
Or anywhere else
If it comes to that
But I remember a time
Oh what a time
When I started work in the sixties
As a bobbin boy in the mills
And when mill girls
Were wild wild women
And we were their targets
We became swift of wit and feet
Very quickly
And I remember clearly when
Dear old "Make 'em 'ave it Phil" Doris
Grabbed Dougie Hibbert on his own
Hiding in the bobbin racks
She put his **** in a milk bottle
Then horned him up so he couldn't
Get the **** thing off
Then shouted everyone
To come and see
By Phil Roberts
Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 5:35 AM UTC
I think I must be a tarnished bobbin
or a spool,
Or something you think you can
reel in
Like a golden thread or a worn leash.
My answers may not wrap around your
little ego the way you would
like them to.
But sometimes bobbins and spools
need to unwind too.
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 2:03 PM UTC
Chamomile and honey
Polka-dots and money
Teacup pigs are funny
I'm cold when it's sunny
Take me to your house
Treat me like your spouse
More quiet than a mouse
Less violent than a louse
Seek and you will find
The bobbin that I wind
All in love are blind
Stay always on my mind
Different is good
Don't conform to your 'hood
The trees will bring you wood
Trust in them you should
Never fear the unknown
For the trees have grown
The wind has blown
The birds have flown
My soul has shown
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 5:12 AM UTC
We already know she be bobbin fur some Baskin Robbin's
coppin,
floppin,
n nockin fur a cockin.
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 3:00 AM UTC
Bobbin my head to Public Enemy
Lookin' like a misfit Chuck D
Sittin' in the corner clickin' keys
Drinkin' honey green leaf, not coffee
Not the normal old dude in a coffee shop
Shakin' his head to old school hip hop
Writin' poetry and he just can't stop
Hope the baristas don't call da cops
Soon be closin' time in dis five and dime
Kicked to the curb, but I'll be fine
Got my tea, my raps, and my rhymes
They killed the wifi, coulda lost lines
Waiten' for my daughter outside dance
But I'm da one jamin' out my pants
Refusing to listen to dance moms' rants
Bein me, that's always my stance
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 8:02 PM UTC
The unpurged images of day recede;
The Emperor's drunken soldiery are abed;
Night resonance recedes, night walkers' song
After great cathedral gong;
A starlit or a moonlit dome disdains
All that man is,
All mere complexities,
The fury and the mire of human veins.
Before me floats an image, man or shade,
Shade more than man, more image than a shade;
For Hades' bobbin bound in mummy-cloth
May unwind the winding path;
A mouth that has no moisture and no breath
Breathless mouths may summon;
I hail the superhuman;
I call it death-in-life and life-in-death.
Miracle, bird or golden handiwork,
More miracle than bird or handiwork,
Planted on the star-lit golden bough,
Can like the ***** of Hades crow,
Or, by the moon embittered, scorn aloud
In glory of changeless metal
Common bird or petal
And all complexities of mire or blood.
At midnight on the Emperor's pavement flit
Flames that no ****** feeds, nor steel has lit,
Nor storm disturbs, flames begotten of flame,
Where blood-begotten spirits come
And all complexities of fury leave,
Dying into a dance,
An agony of trance,
An agony of flame that cannot singe a sleeve.
Astraddle on the dolphin's mire and blood,
Spirit after Spirit! The smithies break the flood.
The golden smithies of the Emperor!
Marbles of the dancing floor
Break bitter furies of complexity,
Those images that yet
Fresh images beget,
That dolphin-torn, that gong-tormented sea.
1.7k
Ascend and crown the sky, amazing lark
You cannot know what joy you bring
To this winter-weary heart
Bumble on, friendly bee
You do not know how vital is your art
And what relief to see the tiny leaf unfurl
On the grand old oak
Who shunned all vestments through the winter's chill
But now puts on his greenest summer cloak
Come swallows, fast and low
Perform your aeronautic feats (like spitfires)
Swimming through the air
Skimming o'er the growing wheat
Comfrey on the river bank
Milkmaids in the meadow damp
Cow's parsley with its lacy bobbin' heads
Dandelion's golden threads
My heart feels part, as if re-born
Of this rejuvenating summer dawn
May 13, 2012
May 13, 2012 at 5:31 AM UTC
I used to hear the word
"Holy..."
And immediately, Ratman or
Bobbin would lamely
Limp into my mind.
1960s Shtick
Shtuck in my
Noggin, until...
I met a Holy Man
Whose name means
Either
"Asleep" or
"Wild Man"
Anyhoo,
He was/is/
From just past
Detroit
Cross the Border,
Bordering Cross.
He spoke of the
HOLY SPIRIT
That part of God Who
Which
Communicates with us
And us, HIM...
Of an unquenchable
FIRE that yearned,
Burned
Churned in the hearts of
His Children.
His smile was wide,
His eyes, shining, but...
But his words soon after
(Were not his own)
Not natural, but
SUPERNATURAL
From the Great
I AM.
The Lord Jesus Christ
Spoke inside this man's
Heart, Soul,
Mind, Body-
Spirit Holy.
his
(HIS)
words
(WORD)
Were written in
Indelible ink
Upon the surface
Of my
(sinful)
Human heart.
We
Had never met before
Our paths
(Crossed)
But he knew, He
Had a VISION.
He shared it with me.
Now when I hear
"Holy..."
I no longer think of
That common Red-
Breasted avian creature, but
The man whose
Breast and
Heart were on
Holy Cleansing Fire,
That burns brightly
Still
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 3:49 PM UTC
I kept quiet as a mouse
Soppy did too; we stayed snake close
to the ground in the tall grass
we didn't hear no hounds,
but that didn't mean them dogs
weren't there
Soppy and I had done
what old lady Lucinda said--waded in the deep creek
a good hour to leave them curs nothin' to sniff
with my one clear eye
I could see them flames bobbin' up and down
like gold ghosts in the willows
the air smelled like rain
I prayed real hard it would come down
drown out them fires
that would be one mighty sign
the good Lord heard my prayers
and took pity on us
Soppy, me and whatever other souls
hid in the devil's dark, watchin' the flames,
fearin' they meant eternal damnation
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 10:58 PM UTC
Woke up out a cold sweat
Thinkin' will i survive the subliminal threats
Cant get a job cuz im black
Thats a brutal honest fact
So brothers switch to a jack
Dont get mad when we rollin' craps
Hood mentality
To be nba or nfl livin' fantasies
Chasin' broken dreams
Thinkin' you can get the cream
No education cuz they medias want segregation
**** the pulpit preachers talk ****
Tellin' about them ******** parables
I know im a rebel
Born saint roll me up some dank
Hit the burb park my ds on the curb
Hitt the switches for the *******
Middle finger for them snitches
If ya know me ya might be a homie
And if you a groupie
You nothing but a phony
Check my licks we steady got ya heads bobbin"
***** SHOULD HAVE KNOWN
IM STEADY MOBBIN''
I jumps in the shower
Clean as a muthafucka throw
On some baby powder
Dressed fresh to death
Makin' these girls loose they breath
***** i aint no lover
Go after them other brothers
Cuz ya cant catch me in a gank
Gas up the 64 put 30 in the tank
Gave the good lord a thank
Hit the liquor store and pour up some drank
My homie Tim riding shotgun
Im public enemy number one
Dont got a license for a gun
So thats means im illegally packin
Extra clips
Just incase for bodystackin' fools be actin'
Out but i got the clout
Rubbers on deck to keep a ** in check
Watch ya mouth before i slit ya neck
Still feelin' my music
Got ya ****** head bobbin'
***** im steady mobbin'
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
Absent from this creation
4 far 2 long
Words stuck pressed under a rock
3rdEyeBlind
Midnight Blues at Paisley
INspiration, head bobbin'
Taken 2 The Max with
New Princely Music
And grooves of the feminine
3rdEyeGirl
3rdEyeOpen
FUNK my LIFE
The new FML
Life is good
(c) Shawn White Eagle
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 1:44 AM UTC
There’s only a dew of elixir in the bottom of the empty cup sleeping as lamb
Now they call it heart, I call it polluted spirit, and you may call it ruby pomegranate granules
But we the simplest so called human entities jointly may only Love and this is sufficient
To suffer for the thousand years and a day more
The one who cares not is the luckiest mundane ignorant but I’m the one alike who outpours his quintessential not knowing for whom
Not knowing for what reason a purpose never show its glamour in advance
For warning, for love or even for sake of its purest manifestation
In times when words were queued in the thread abundantly curved in bobbin from the human scalp
The necklace of verse is fading its shine no sparkling truths gurgles from its spring to obey our thirsts
We the thirsty souls for divine morsel wandering in here as the spirits of suicide victims
Empty stomachs of enfant terrible only for the grasp of the truth they never hear even as the sound of insect
Never as the sound of falling frozen spirit in jade that you may later see as the Galatea of divine maternal essence
A cornucopia of latent blessings waits
A deficit of Love outbursts proudly displaying its genitalia without a drop of shame
I wander as a working bee searching for the nectar of wisdom to feed my Queen bee
And bestow her eternal life with the royal jelly leaking elegantly from the bottom to the navel
Apr 18, 2012
Apr 18, 2012 at 7:35 AM UTC
Just bobbin along on lifes fabric ....
Hanging on by a thread it seems
when you ***** me with your needles I do bleed
Sometimes I feel like an alter is in store
other times maybe just a mend would endure.
Whatever the case this garment sure is binding
could use a little TLC and some unwinding
Jun 21, 2011
Jun 21, 2011 at 7:17 AM UTC
I want to wake up next to you
Our skin stitched together as one
Just like the card I sent
One big happy deformed person
Much fun could be had
Ugly fun…
We could go to an amusement park
Eat cotton candy ‘til our stitches practically burst
Test out just how much the horsies will hold
Laugh at our misshapen self in the distorted mirrors
Jam our oversized *** in a bumper car
Point at children who give us sideways glances
Up stage the bearded lady
Bark obscenities at those whom are wider
Yell at the man that tries to make us pay for two
I want to wake up next to you
The pink thread tightly knit
Just like the card you received
Instead you lay in another bed
A world apart
No bobbin or needle in sight
Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 9:20 PM UTC
the old tale forgotten, whispers
I imagine.
Slow slow
Cali-ing an imp's pulse, a life's response to my
spondaic plea
Hear me.
Fret not, the game is afoot. Real life
has ridden the wind
to catch us up
we win again
and set us round this flame to teach us
past the games
past the practice
craft has prospered in wisdom's embrace.
taste, and see.
The story on one tongue tastes bitter, while
I always find it sweet.
The blind leader has an old horse
who always makes it
home, I have a promise I follow and
the horse is far behind, keeping pace
with the game afoot,
far behind.
When this tale is told,
may you be the first to tell it true.
--- each line I think ends the trail
--- but I think wrong
the tale and the trail are seeming symish,
here we be in this book of life, whence, if we find our name,
we remain forever.
Can you imagine? In a word realm, we may remain.
The secret is we live. That's the tale I tell.
===
it's all ish or isha, isn't it It, the nameless
missing wished for thing,
the
exact which one,
we all feel we lack.
A touch never felt, but hoped for
through the pain,
oh, the shame.
Yours, the blame.
---- old man not so old
---- all the lies that you were told
---- were told to all since Cain, these are the common chains.
The mission, the quest to bher the blame away in phors o'shame,
while holding all the truth
a word may logically hold ina reasonable realm,
a word realm
whence, in the be
gin or gen ing (on going ing ing ing)
Genius ginning seed from fibers fit t'make threads
fine as spider webs,
watch, chile, watch this bobbin spin and spin and spin
soon be baby sleep in full-on gamma state,
while gran'ma spin the cotton wit' no thought of a wheel.
By and by, we see things beginnin' better, from seed up.
Sgt. Why-kill calls me, from the VA hospital, in MIami,
why you interupptin me , Why-kill? He say
stroke-slow, y'know
I -- a whole next word duration twixt each tongue-lip config
and some repeats due to ram slips
He got it out, said he had to tell you (me) to remember,
All things work together.
Incredulous me, I ask, really, you called to tell me that?
No,
he said
you said you would call, from time to time,
so I figured you forgot. The mission is to live true.
No lie, I replied.
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 3:57 PM UTC
Talk to me about sadness
I want to tell you
But i ask you
To fill space
Fill me with you
For soon i will
Go, More words to suspend
Speak so i can swim
In the low light cavern of your mind
In the riptide of your tongue
Without hearing
Only seeing your shape shifting mouth
I am no longer leaving
I am staying
I am staying
Here
With you
As your tongue spins time like a bobbin
I rest
In the aimless needle
Knowing my spot on the quilt
There is a comfort in seeing my trace
My thread
Threads parallel to yours
In this moment
We are infinite
On this quilt
Entangled
Least i have something to remind me
Something to keep you close to me
I want to tell you
What?
scared of my own feelings
When i cant find their cowardly bodies
I let you keep talking
And you do, you keep us here, you keep me
close to the hearth in your heart
Until
Its done
Im walking away
And You're walking away
I don't look but i assume you are
Threads leaving the quilt just as they pierced it
Undone
through the blurry windshield of my pupils
Wind peeling the drops from my eyes
As i peddle away
Away from the end
Away from leaving
Away from death
Away from myself
Away from
You
Talk to me about sadness
So at least i'll know what to expect when i leave you
Will you do me that favor?
Aug 9, 2025
Aug 9, 2025 at 10:01 AM UTC
Rushing.
Crashing.
Ocean fills my ears.
I'm stranded out here bobbin' with these others
after way too many beers.
Our ship started sinking
after parted ways and too much thinking.
We're all way too salty now
and all too soaked to swim to safety.
*I've got
a notion, friend, to lay some blame
drop a few names, retreat again...
You are
a battleship, your big guns blaze
afloat on rage, bristling ardor.
I'll calm you down, so dry me out
or sink me now. We've spent enough
on life.*
Coughing.
Laughing.
Protests fill our ears.
It's frigid out here. Walking off these shudders
past the closing bars and jeers.
Boarded. Started singing
all our anthem cries from here to Longstaff.
"Land, ** we cry sarcastically.
We're still too soaked to swim to safety.
*We've got
some way to walk, cover some ground.
pass a few blocks, we're lost & found.
The night
had shrunken down, contracted fast.
dark purple sky is bristling hoarfrost.
We've warmed us up, so pull me out
or sink me now. We've spent enough
on life.*
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 2:54 PM UTC
I bought a Joker bobblehead at an antique store
it bobbled it's head as I went out the door
it bobbled and turned
and with a laugh it said
get me out of this box *****
or I'll slice off your head
I turned right around
went back in the store
and asked for a refund
of $11.54 - including tax
I'm sorry she said
no refunds given here
now you're stuck with that *****
may God help you my dear
he's carved and beheaded
every Woody in my collection
he set fire to Buzz Lightyear
and gave Barbie a c-section
he's the devil himself
inside that bobbin' head
you'd better unload him
or soon you'll be dead
before she could put the closed sign on the door
I heard the feet of the Joker as they hit the floor
now you've done it she moaned
we've lost his *** now
I'm taking lunch
so find him somehow
before I could think of what my game plan would be
a voice, and a bob, bob, bob from behind laughed at me
'10.99 for the Joker plus tax!?'
and I turned just in time to catch Daniel Boone's ax
between the eyes!
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 12:43 PM UTC
I am still strange,
haven’t managed
to change
enough
to fit in.
I still enjoy
the comic books
I collected
when I was
a young boy.
I still like
the sci-fi
fantasy
movies,
and tv shows.
I am still
as curious
as the little kid
who hid
and watched
robins
walk
with their
heads
bobbin.
I am still reading
searching,
and pleading,
longing
with aching sincerity
for a world
that will appreciate me,
but I think
that I am too strange
for this reality.
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 10:56 AM UTC
(ripped from the sages' pages of the Middle Ages – “Sumer is icumen in”)
Merrily he eats the worms
Pull them from the ground!
Their heads pop up
On them he sups
As they squirm around
Chirp, robin!
The squirrels are eating all the seeds
The cardinal’s head’s a-bobbin’
The doves are cooing
The cows are mooing
Chirp merrily, robin!
Robin, robin
How well you chirp
Now eat the worms and burp!
Burp, burp, burp!
Dec 25, 2018
Dec 25, 2018 at 11:54 AM UTC
I am 15 ******* years old
...like it or not
I am
Im a black african american female
parents from liberia and sierra leone
I love my culture the food it's all great
I listen to punk, soulful, chill really hipster music but im not
people expect me to be this rap poppin, head bobbin, "ghetto" and its like you can't win with anyone
you'll never be good enough or feel good enough if you try to impress the world...
or if you spend life looking for validation outside of your heart
I learned that the hard way
and am still learning
but today a man looked at me
it seemed like he was checking me out...
and I didnt know how to feel about that
like he was cute...but i was 15 and with my Mom
i guess i felt sorta inferior
like i lost a part of me
because i was insecure
and i feared him like asking for my number or some ****
but you know what...
I am 15 world...
sorry men out their 18 year olds
im not legal
but i drink i do all that crap
what a young person does duh...
but like why should i be ashamed?
I am who i am
like i have years til i'm an adult
why not cherish my young years
and spend it with people who can fully accept me fully
...i'd rather do that than feel like i'm hiding something
or feel like my friends don't get me
its really ******* uncomftorable
like i know perfect friends don't exist but my friends should accept me, get me, and bring out the best in me
not bring me down, laugh at me behind my back, and crap like that
but i mean bottom line I'm me
and i'm awesome
so **** my *** world
**** it real good
till the brown stuff come out
...yeah
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 3:16 AM UTC