"candyman" poems
*she just shakes her head
she meets me on the street-corner, me from work, she from dance,
in the grayling dusk of a thank god it’s a freedom Friday night,
I greet her with words semi-adventurous -
“come with me, few errands to run, keep me in good company”
to the candy store we go for to purchase my weekend eve
lottery tickets and blow-pop lollipops, just in case some
kids appear, a surprise omen as they come
trick-or-treating just before Thanksgiving
the Bangladeshi candyman calls out a long prayer
in his native Bangla
she asks “what’s that he’s saying?”
“Oh, just wishing us a pleasant Sabbath and
may his gods smile upon our good lottery fortune”
she just shakes her head, from side to side
emerging from the store, walking home in the
now doubly ***** darkly dusk,
a set of white teeth from a passing shadow-man says to me
“you’re home late and have a great weekend,”
she asks, “who is that?”
“why,” I reply, “that is our very own personal postal carrier’
she says:
“he delivers mail to ten thousand people all in buildings tall,
yet knows your name, your face,
where you buy your lottery tickets,
your coming and going hours,
how came that to be”
but waits not for an answer
she just shakes her head, from side to side
I show her my secret entrance to our apartment house,
the fast route to collect our mail, dry cleaning in one fell swoop
a secret door, secret elevator taking us directly to our apartment
a secret elevator which is under the direction of
Bimal from Nepal,
who I greet in Nepalese, (my tutor)
I, asking after Brian and Bryce, his 100% American boys
now she says nothing, but before our door, as I go key digging,
she just shakes her head, from side to side
later she says:
“let’s order in, apprise me of your expertise,
some exotic fare from Manhattans First Avenue,
known for its aphrodisiacal powers
afterwards,
you must tell me each dishes name,
in its tongue’s nativity,
but much, much later,”
and as she speaks, grinning,
she sticks out her tongue,
while she just shakes her head,
but this time,
up
and
down
Nov 18, 2017
Nov 18, 2017 at 10:07 AM UTC
THE TRUE STORY OF THE EASTER BUNNY
you see, way back in the 1300s, there was this man who bred rabbits, and he was dedicated to his job, so much in fact,
he would go about starting to dress up as a colourful bunny around April every year, around the full moon, and on the
evening of easter Saturday, this man, would take off in his rundown jet plane to deliver hand painted eggs, painted by himself
to all the boys and girls of this land, and if each kid was very good, he will give the one of the kids a very rare chocolate bunny
which was very hard to find in these times, every kid pushed each other over to be the chosen one for this delicious bunny, and
the man dresses all the rabbits of the land, in colourful clothes and a easter bell around their necks, to warn the foxes that
can lurk about, you see on this man’s route were 345 houses to deliver each egg to, and some of the kids were still up, and he was
nice to them, giving them 3 eggs instead of 2, you see he always over-packs, because each kid wanted to stay up for the
arrival of the easter bunny-man, as he arrived at their houses, and maybe, that is the reason why it was a nightmare to get
the kids to go to bed now, well they do go to bed, but the easter bunny-man made the kids so happy, the kids went to bed
when he left, after that he dropped in at various inns around the town to deliver the painted eggs to each patron drinking in the inns
and mind you, he had a lot of great stories to tell each patron in the inn, about his wonderful adventures. then he drove off toward
the two farms of the town, and in the 1300s, the farms housed mostly poor people, ya know people doing it tough, so to speak, and
he dropped his easter eggs to the farmers and their kids and performed a few songs for the farmers like “candyman” and a rhyme which was
easter easter what’ll we do
give an egg to me and i will give one rot you
you see i am happy to really make you
the happiest farmer this easter will produce
you see these are painted eggs, i like them yeah
the colours are beautiful, really, i swear
come on kiddies try and grab more
easter easter how are you
and he played many many more easter related songs and rhymes, and the farmers liked to call him the rabbit ******* and he had a great night
as he did this every easter saturday, and at 5 am on easter Sunday morning, he finished his route and and spent easter sunday with his family,
and whether you believe this story or not, this is how easter started in my eyes
HAPPY EASTER FELLAS
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 4:47 AM UTC
The Candyman ate only his sweets,
Chocolate, caramel, and liquor
That last one was really a treat
But his wife would just bicker!
And so he went to Double-A
To stop his *** addiction
"I guess you're in deep trouble, ay?"
Said one, who caused friction.
So the Candyman and his pal
Went on to recover
When his wife went through his drawer
Just beer she discovered!
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC
He wakes up in the morning
Does his teeth bite to eat and he's rolling
Never changes a thing
The week ends the week begins
She thinks, we look at each other
Wondering what the other is thinking
But we never say a thing
These crimes between us grow deeper
Take these chances
Place them in a box until a quieter time
Lights down, you up and die
Goes to visit his mommy
She feeds him well his concerns
He forgets them
And remembers being small
Playing under the table and dreaming
Take these chances
Place them in a box until a quieter time
Lights down, you up and die
Driving in on this highway
All these cars and upon the sidewalk
People in every direction
No words exchanged
No time to exchange
And all the little ants are marching
Red and black antennas waving
They all do it the same
They all do it the same way
Candyman tempting the thoughts of a
Sweet tooth tortured by the weight loss
Program cutting the corners
Loose end, loose end, cut, cut
On the fence, could not to offend
Cut, cut, cut, cut
Take these chances
Place them in a box until a quieter time
Lights down, you up and die
Lights down, you up and die.
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 10:52 AM UTC
every time i say your name out loud
i know i shouldn't
it's like voldemort
or something
or maybe you're my
candyman
because i see your face in mirrors
when i say it
and when i don't
i'm sorry i'm not good enough yet
maybe someday
i will be
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 5:54 PM UTC
***serving as candyman
this spooky evening
an evening of Treat..
but the Trick
where is it hiding..?
it must be there
in those masks
or those sacks
because the Trick
is the spice
the shadows
leaves crunching
the flashlights
this magic night...!***
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 11:35 PM UTC
Emptied out his car.
Driving fast.
Driving far.
Distant shores.
Lots more scores.
Playing games.
Women's names.
Always the same score.
Just candy wrapped ******
Your ship sailed.
Baby, just to let you know.
Your name's nailed cross my heart.
And boy you gotta go.
You're gone.
We're done.
You're undone.
To you my sweet.
Women are just candies.
In frilly dressed up boxes.
Playing games.
Women's names.
Always the same score
Just candy wrapped ******
Biting bullets.
Cheerleaders.
Birdfeeders.
Dolls in dresses.
Peachy tresses.
Was your fault.
You opened the vaults.
Deserved just what you got.
Playing games.
Women's names.
Always the same score.
Just candy wrapped ******
Face up to it sugar.
You ain't the only one
Women ain't for using.
This gal's selective
Deleted from her heart.
Removed him from her mind.
(c) Livvi
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 3:08 PM UTC
We live in a time of minimalist art, self-expression absent of heart
What ever happened to consciousness expansion-
Peace, love, and direct action?
-
Focus your attention to your smart phone
Plead for virtual affection so you don’t feel alone
What ever happened to just getting ******
Smiling, laughing, contemplating a universe unknown?
-
Your closed-minded conception condemns you to your head
Your solution to conflict consist of a mechanism that spouts lead
What ever will you do when there is no more blood left to shed?
“I don’t know,” he replies, “but the bad guy’s dead.”
-
Burn all the books, discard all the knowledge
Submit to manual labor, don’t go to college
Accept ignorance and we’ll treat you well:
A house, a car, and guaranteed freedom from hell
-
Your God is fake, and my God is real-
And the Devil, he’s looking for souls to steal
Digest all of my words with fear and absolute acceptance
You’re the sheep, he’s the Shepard, and I’m a virtuous point of reference!
-
Big brother is watching, don’t you dare act out
I see your fire inside and I demand that it be put out
Individualism is dead, all hail the corporate agenda
You need to fear the terrorists because they’re out to get ya’
-
I see you’re hurting inside, take an antidepressant
Provided that you have a prescription at the Candyman’s discretion
Buy my product, I guarantee it will fill the void
You’re a cog in a self-mutilating machine, your existence- devoid
-
Now, I’m not a prophet, I don’t claim to be right
But you must know that you will lose your humanity if you don’t put up a fight
Fear not the creatures that go bump in the night
They’re subsidiary threats to the men behind the curtain, demanding subjugation with a smile
Controlling the switch to the light
-
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 5:36 PM UTC
You’re a disembodied voice
only appearing in mirrors
like the Candyman.
Sometimes I look into the mirror
and say your name three times
then finish jerking off.
Jun 24, 2020
Jun 24, 2020 at 1:55 AM UTC
Your lips are made of sugar, your sweet voice melts my heart
You stitch my wounds with candy floss, when I start to fall apart
patch my cuts with gumdrops, and dry every tear
bite off all the bitter, and kiss away the fear
It's nice to have a candyman but what I really want to know
is when the sweetness rots away will a sour side start to grow?
will this start to bore you? will my face become a dull sight?
will you leave my texts on read after pointless fights?
will you sell your sweets to another, and leave me blind?
because every sweet soul, has a bitter mind
Oct 21, 2019
Oct 21, 2019 at 1:28 PM UTC
I've forgotten how to do damage with a pen
All I remember is how to slash these swords against my skin
Crimson drips from the mutilated canvas and,
suddenly,
it becomes interesting
The candyman promised his stuff was the good kind
Guess he forgot to mention with every high comes a goodbye
I'm a ticking time bomb
And I hear the clock ticking
Tick tick tick
But suddenly every tick becomes a good time when I remember
That the end of every goodbye becomes the chance for a new high
Jan 7, 2020
Jan 7, 2020 at 8:07 PM UTC
he knew of the evil he heard
he thought nothing of it
he preached it be fiction
be slander
be falsehoods of malice intent
be against his angel draped in fur
be it death so soft,
he knew of the evil he saw
he wore shades with his violet suede jacket
he was blind to the violence
be it the ball & chain of those before him
be it his fate to lay in the stray dog's bed
be it his turn to tip the glass of wine
be it blood spilled,
he knew of the evil he spoke
he stands in memory in lust-lined letters
he wrapped his chords around it, beating
he ripped it out slowly in greed & wrath
be it a reminder of failure
be it the astral curse of the harlot
be it a trophy to spark humiliation
be it the return of the drowning sensation,
he stood before evil & gave it a home
he said sinister tasted sweet
he spun sugar into cinder blocks
he said cherry cola was out of season
be it the cavities of lost love
be it novocaine
be it something rotten from the start,
but it tasted so sweet
in prison, no one waters
the cherry tree
but he tasted so sweet
be it my sweet tooth that buries me.
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 9:47 PM UTC
He did it mom, I thought you'd want to know,
Why I've become withdrawn and my face I don't want to show...
You didn't believe when I told you at first,
So now here you are looking at the hearse...
My only candy, from me he took,
And after eating it, he gave me that look...
To never speak a word, or make even a sound,
Each time he is near, my heart begins to pound...
The fear that crippled my aching soul,
Each time I remember the candy he stole...
Why would you take candy from a babe?
Couldn't you find some place where they are made?
The little girl inside wanted to be free,
But each time she tries, it's him that she sees...
So when I was older, I tried to take it back,
So with the kitchen knife I launched my attack...
I didn't realize that my candy was forever gone,
But the pain in losing it, in me forever lives on...
I am sorry it took his death to make you see,
That my candy was important to me...
Although it's gone, I am happier now, because he is gone too,
And on no other candy he can now chew...
I hope one day, me, you will forgive,
But he had to die ,so I can live...
Sep 13, 2017
Sep 13, 2017 at 7:23 PM UTC