"bottlecap" poems - Hello Poetry

I'll walk you through the rain.. Hold your hand in the lightning.. We will clap our hands as the air cools from the passing lightning, THUNDERCLAP rumble on through.. Come play with me in the puddles brother.. Lets make a bottlecap boat with a sailor ant and watch it float on through the grassy ant lake.. Lets watch the rain moths fly on through after a good storm.. where do they go? into the dreams of the ones who are sleeping now.. Smell the atmoshere, smell the rain.. Watch as the day becomes filled with orange and sad gray.. Sure its muddy, and a bit cold.. and of course we are not wearing shoes.. But we are having an adventure, there is no time for such nonsense.. Only magic u and i create.. together brother, always together..

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May 14, 2013

May 14, 2013 at 12:02 PM UTC

solaces

The adventure in the rain....

I'll walk you through the rain.. Hold your hand in the lightning.. We will clap our hands as the air cools from the passing lightning, THUNDERCLAP rumble on through.. Come play with me in the puddles brother.. Lets make a bottlecap boat with a sailor ant and watch it float on through the grassy ant lake.. Lets watch the rain moths fly on through after a good storm.. where do they go? into the dreams of the ones who are sleeping now.. Smell the atmoshere, smell the rain.. Watch as the day becomes filled with orange and sad gray.. Sure its muddy, and a bit cold.. and of course we are not wearing shoes.. But we are having an adventure, there is no time for such nonsense.. Only magic u and i create.. together brother, always together..

9

a.) a crossed off to-do list b.) crumpled toilet paper, used as a tissue c.) white paper, rumpled but never used d.) raisins e.) sins f.) a green plastic bottlecap, inscribed with the waves of a far away sea g.) a mechanical pencil, out of lead h.) a bobby pin, rendered useless due to short hair i.) a small piece of string j.) the small piece of my heart which contained affection for my father k.) just kidding, that never existed l.) the sleeves i cut off of a tshirt m.) the heart i cut off of my sleeve n.) a ****** poem about alcoholism o.) the self loathing that weighed me down for nearly a year p.) a list of the different gym classes available q.) q tips, in the interest of alliteration r.) one very old, very ***** sock

0

Oct 6, 2013

Oct 6, 2013 at 6:01 PM UTC

stardust-style

(10/6/13) because archaeologists say our trash says more about us than time capsules ever could, and my room could stand to be cleaned anyway

a.) a crossed off to-do list b.) crumpled toilet paper, used as a tissue c.) white paper, rumpled but never used d.) raisins e.) sins f.) a green plastic bottlecap, inscribed with the waves of a far away sea g.) a mechanical pencil, out of lead h.) a bobby pin, rendered useless due to short hair i.) a small piece of string j.) the small piece of my heart which contained affection for my father k.) just kidding, that never existed l.) the sleeves i cut off of a tshirt m.) the heart i cut off of my sleeve n.) a ****** poem about alcoholism o.) the self loathing that weighed me down for nearly a year p.) a list of the different gym classes available q.) q tips, in the interest of alliteration r.) one very old, very ***** sock

18

knitted on a dodgy bobble hat or a favourite chunky jumper from scandanavia, or yorkshire untasteful but definitely practical.. smelly and friendly like a wet dog pliable like warm playdoh... patulioi oil will always remind me of you... 'a hippy place in my heart...' like a beachnut, no, a beach hut shelves littered with the flotsam of our throwaway society, flip flop corner... 19:10 some random hermit crab making his escape from the dripping bundle of just found fishing net down through the crack in the floor... into the sand and back to the sea. the moths and midges gravitate towards the fossils and rock shelf because that's where the gaslamp gently hisses. suncracked and faded pieces of 70's buckets and spades flicker in the corner between the scraps of rope and the deflated inflatables and the bottlecap damian hurst next to sea purse corner, biological tendrils contrasting the ever stoic rubber ducks who escaped from the pacific gyre... panning around, the smartphone registers, the garish tatty windbreak and the 90's ghettoblaster which still has some juice left from those batteries we bought at the gift shop... last year... for our imaginary beach hut.... in the outer hebrides...? you take the camping gaz from the cupboard and put the kettle on... the beach is desert island white the sea azure like a gaudy 70's postcard the wind tugging relentless through our hair. but the pub is warm and friendly where grizzled fishermen philosophise hardily. by the fire. between warming shots of smokey single malt.

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Jul 6, 2015

Jul 6, 2015 at 6:47 PM UTC

stuart-harris

all right love

knitted on a dodgy bobble hat or a favourite chunky jumper from scandanavia, or yorkshire untasteful but definitely practical.. smelly and friendly like a wet dog pliable like warm playdoh... patulioi oil will always remind me of you... 'a hippy place in my heart...' like a beachnut, no, a beach hut shelves littered with the flotsam of our throwaway society, flip flop corner... 19:10 some random hermit crab making his escape from the dripping bundle of just found fishing net down through the crack in the floor... into the sand and back to the sea. the moths and midges gravitate towards the fossils and rock shelf because that's where the gaslamp gently hisses. suncracked and faded pieces of 70's buckets and spades flicker in the corner between the scraps of rope and the deflated inflatables and the bottlecap damian hurst next to sea purse corner, biological tendrils contrasting the ever stoic rubber ducks who escaped from the pacific gyre... panning around, the smartphone registers, the garish tatty windbreak and the 90's ghettoblaster which still has some juice left from those batteries we bought at the gift shop... last year... for our imaginary beach hut.... in the outer hebrides...? you take the camping gaz from the cupboard and put the kettle on... the beach is desert island white the sea azure like a gaudy 70's postcard the wind tugging relentless through our hair. but the pub is warm and friendly where grizzled fishermen philosophise hardily. by the fire. between warming shots of smokey single malt.

47

i've scribbled my lies onto napkin dispensers and on bus stop windows hoping their distorted reflection would resemble someone i recognize i'm sitting here between train tracks between reasons to live the lump in my throat consists of a tired shoelace a broken wavelength a bottlecap a cigarette **** a brick of charcoal a shard of stained glass

0

Nov 15, 2011

Nov 15, 2011 at 9:57 PM UTC

david-badgerow

Lump

i've scribbled my lies onto napkin dispensers and on bus stop windows hoping their distorted reflection would resemble someone i recognize i'm sitting here between train tracks between reasons to live the lump in my throat consists of a tired shoelace a broken wavelength a bottlecap a cigarette **** a brick of charcoal a shard of stained glass

15

he liked how she wore rain boots in the summer and wished to build her home in the marshes where she could sing with the toads and play a cattail harp, reed symphony. she kept a journal she would draw rain clouds and snow, he'd watch her fingers loop around the pencil, brow wrinkled with concentrated focus. i guess he loved her. as much as anybody could. loved the bottlecap eyes and wide mouth full of crooked teeth, cause when she smiled his heart went crooked too and she was the type of girl who he could visit museums with and they'd both stare at the same painting and think something quite different.

0

May 18, 2014

May 18, 2014 at 5:54 PM UTC

cadence-musick

unconventional beauty, not conventional oven

he liked how she wore rain boots in the summer and wished to build her home in the marshes where she could sing with the toads and play a cattail harp, reed symphony. she kept a journal she would draw rain clouds and snow, he'd watch her fingers loop around the pencil, brow wrinkled with concentrated focus. i guess he loved her. as much as anybody could. loved the bottlecap eyes and wide mouth full of crooked teeth, cause when she smiled his heart went crooked too and she was the type of girl who he could visit museums with and they'd both stare at the same painting and think something quite different.

21

I'm a poet ****** That digs through the thrash There's cans and slops and graffiti A pig rolling around happy in mud I am Who cares about vanity Or inhibitions When your eyes are big The smiles wide The teeth brown The other side of midnight On a empty bed It is what it is A leaf Once green Now fallen Tumbles along Sentences to death Garbage here Garbage there Signatures on walls Rhymes and reasons Wee We take this ride I sequel I squeal Another can A bottlecap Should I a say a toothbrush On a good day My hooves take to the lawn Pigs heaven one might say Running in circles with words An oink here An oink there A pig in a blanket I really care What's inside a hotdog Logan Robertson 12/29/2018

0

Dec 29, 2018

Dec 29, 2018 at 4:29 AM UTC

logan-robertson

Once a Poet ******

I'm a poet ****** That digs through the thrash There's cans and slops and graffiti A pig rolling around happy in mud I am Who cares about vanity Or inhibitions When your eyes are big The smiles wide The teeth brown The other side of midnight On a empty bed It is what it is A leaf Once green Now fallen Tumbles along Sentences to death Garbage here Garbage there Signatures on walls Rhymes and reasons Wee We take this ride I sequel I squeal Another can A bottlecap Should I a say a toothbrush On a good day My hooves take to the lawn Pigs heaven one might say Running in circles with words An oink here An oink there A pig in a blanket I really care What's inside a hotdog Logan Robertson 12/29/2018

41

I am one of those people who collects bruises like old bottlecaps. I count them from time to time, but I can never remember where I got them. Waiting for bread to toast, I slapped a knife against my thigh, marveling in the way it rang like a tuning fork. When the toast popped up, I looked at my leg and saw there was a huge red welt just starting to bruise. They only hurt once I've discovered them. You poked the knife-bruise and asked, "Who beat you up?" but didn't wait long enough for me to summon the laughter to say that I'd done it to myself. You moved on to the next one, dragging your finger like you were following some yellow brick road, playing Candyland and winning. A Pleiades's above my ankle, a crescent shape below my knee. There was one small circle in the middle of my toe that you wondered about, and neither of us could imagine how I'd done it, so you just laughed at me and tickled my feet like some old husband. Soon you get bored with the bruises and you move on to the tic-tac- toe grids on my knees from the pool tiles. You write your name in my arm with your fingernail because of the way even light scratches immediately become red and raised. I made up a word for it and you believe me like it was some sort of real medical condition. Somehow my face hovers in between a real smile and an aching grimace, so when you look up at me, you put my face in your hands and repeat my name. I must be your favorite curiosity.

0

Apr 11, 2010

Apr 11, 2010 at 3:13 PM UTC

emily-webb

bottlecap collection

I am one of those people who collects bruises like old bottlecaps. I count them from time to time, but I can never remember where I got them. Waiting for bread to toast, I slapped a knife against my thigh, marveling in the way it rang like a tuning fork. When the toast popped up, I looked at my leg and saw there was a huge red welt just starting to bruise. They only hurt once I've discovered them. You poked the knife-bruise and asked, "Who beat you up?" but didn't wait long enough for me to summon the laughter to say that I'd done it to myself. You moved on to the next one, dragging your finger like you were following some yellow brick road, playing Candyland and winning. A Pleiades's above my ankle, a crescent shape below my knee. There was one small circle in the middle of my toe that you wondered about, and neither of us could imagine how I'd done it, so you just laughed at me and tickled my feet like some old husband. Soon you get bored with the bruises and you move on to the tic-tac- toe grids on my knees from the pool tiles. You write your name in my arm with your fingernail because of the way even light scratches immediately become red and raised. I made up a word for it and you believe me like it was some sort of real medical condition. Somehow my face hovers in between a real smile and an aching grimace, so when you look up at me, you put my face in your hands and repeat my name. I must be your favorite curiosity.

26

Click, falls to the floor. Dusty movie theater with shoe dirt on the backs of the seats. Noisy couples in the back ******* face and other parts, distract from The dead body on the screen and the 3-D pool of blood dribbling towards them. "Love, won't you bite my eyes? Your lipstick reminds me of the deadly ruby liquid in your veins." Because it is.

0

Jan 10, 2014

Jan 10, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC

kagami

Bottlecap

Click, falls to the floor. Dusty movie theater with shoe dirt on the backs of the seats. Noisy couples in the back ******* face and other parts, distract from The dead body on the screen and the 3-D pool of blood dribbling towards them. "Love, won't you bite my eyes? Your lipstick reminds me of the deadly ruby liquid in your veins." Because it is.

5

The adventure in the rain was for my brother and I. We would jump in the puddles and make plastic bottlecap sail boats for ants. Barefoot in the cool water. Warmed back up by the summer mud.

0

May 11, 2022

May 11, 2022 at 12:06 PM UTC

solaces

Plastic bottlecap sail boats

The adventure in the rain was for my brother and I. We would jump in the puddles and make plastic bottlecap sail boats for ants. Barefoot in the cool water. Warmed back up by the summer mud.

4

Your charismatic friend Loud friend Hides friend Pass to the next day friend Your incessant poem friend Bottlecap friend I’ll tell you friend Like you in one way friend Your high friend Hair friend Let’s try acid friend Your nothing to lose friend Your new phase friend Song friend Bird friend Your vent friend Cement friend Your all the colors friend The one on your dad’s mind friend The hope’s to be friend Your plain bad friend Your gay friend Bi friend Straight friend What’s your name friend It’s losing your mind friend Your day friend Sad friend Too much friend “What did I do to you?” friend The summer at the all end And hit send to Your sad friend Your done friend

0

Sep 3, 2018

Sep 3, 2018 at 11:34 PM UTC

Hookstone

Day Friend

Your charismatic friend Loud friend Hides friend Pass to the next day friend Your incessant poem friend Bottlecap friend I’ll tell you friend Like you in one way friend Your high friend Hair friend Let’s try acid friend Your nothing to lose friend Your new phase friend Song friend Bird friend Your vent friend Cement friend Your all the colors friend The one on your dad’s mind friend The hope’s to be friend Your plain bad friend Your gay friend Bi friend Straight friend What’s your name friend It’s losing your mind friend Your day friend Sad friend Too much friend “What did I do to you?” friend The summer at the all end And hit send to Your sad friend Your done friend

34

to permeate in the leaves of trees we hibernate like gold in the hands of thieves across seas I know you'd be proud of me set the scene velvet ropes for a quarter life dramaturgy weeps as it sings in your car in the rain everything's different left exactly the same purples and greens in the rain in your eyes I miss holding your hand at night loved you harder than a bottlecap opens sugar fizz boils over come over COME OVER

0

Nov 30, 2016

Nov 30, 2016 at 12:05 PM UTC

imaginariumemporium

Come Over

to permeate in the leaves of trees we hibernate like gold in the hands of thieves across seas I know you'd be proud of me set the scene velvet ropes for a quarter life dramaturgy weeps as it sings in your car in the rain everything's different left exactly the same purples and greens in the rain in your eyes I miss holding your hand at night loved you harder than a bottlecap opens sugar fizz boils over come over COME OVER

24