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"carpooled" poems
There's no reasonable explanation To how this all went down When the world woke up one morning All made up as clowns Not a single person in the world Did this phenomenon not claim With big red buttons on their chests Spelling out new funny names There was Patches and Petunia Floppy and Cupcake Winky and Bumper the Clown Were just a few that they displayed Everyone went about their business Only now they all carpooled You could see clowns piling out of cars everywhere From businesses to stores to schools Crime it did die down Because all the guns that people have Instead of shooting bullets Shoot out brightly colored Big Bang Flags Of course the circus lost its glamour With an audience made up of clowns It's hard to tell who's there enjoying And who's entertaining all the crowds People stopped taking each other seriously Over anything they had to say Pointing at each other and laughing As they go about their day Who knew a thing like this would happen When the world went to bed last night That the very next morning They'd wake up clowns for life Oh, I almost forgot the Politicians Were the only ones to stay the same It's already a simple known fact When your a clown you don't need to change
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Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 8:28 AM UTC
World Of Clowns
i need this listerine for my bad breath he said, but i knew better than to give him a quarter. he begged me with blue eyes and every puff we exhaled into the back bay that grey morning. i’m here to help i answered him and i’ve been there- at McLean in ART, where the girls didn’t like me cause my music was a trigger. but i pulled through, sometimes on my own, with help from a court appointed drug group (even though i carpooled every wednesday in a baked out mini van). i’m here because day after day i dragged my spinning body to the toilet, sun dawning, to spew bright yellow fluid into the waiting water. and i’ve hit the ocean floor: i used to sniff the bowl to make the ***** come up faster. i’d say if i get up again in less than ten minutes, it’s gonna be a rough day (but yesterday started this way and i ended it with a beer in my hand anyway). i’m here because when officer spirito dragged my racing body through the hallways handcuffed, because of the purses missing from the locker room, i still spent the night on the closet floor rocking back and forth, knees to pounding chest, a hollow voice on the phone saying i’ll be fine (but i know that ***** cut with ether and i’m gonna need a hospital). i told my sponsor i wanna get clean cause dope is taking my friends one by one like bowling pins, and i’m lonely cause all my ex boyfriends are still locked up upstate. she just told me to pray to god (but everybody knows that prayer only works in emergencies). i’m here because that relapse my first year of college got me pretty close to death. i didn’t know i could puke that far and the emts didn’t know a heart could beat that fast. but **** the past and **** the future. i can’t say much about the rest of my life, but i can make sure i’m sober the rest of this night. you can get through centuries one hour at a time, so since i know what you want it for why would i give you that quarter? no response except a drop of spit hung from his silver beard like a pendulum, and the smell of the chicken i left to cook too long inside that soup kitchen. if i didn’t laugh, i would have cried the whole time that he said to me i need this listerine, baby, i need listerine i need this listerine for my bad breath.
0
Sep 28, 2011
Sep 28, 2011 at 12:11 AM UTC
my sober poem
i need this listerine for my bad breath he said, but i knew better than to give him a quarter. he begged me with blue eyes and every puff we exhaled into the back bay that grey morning. i’m here to help i answered him and i’ve been there- at McLean in ART, where the girls didn’t like me cause my music was a trigger. but i pulled through, sometimes on my own, with help from a court appointed drug group (even though i carpooled every wednesday in a baked out mini van). i’m here because day after day i dragged my spinning body to the toilet, sun dawning, to spew bright yellow fluid into the waiting water. and i’ve hit the ocean floor: i used to sniff the bowl to make the ***** come up faster. i’d say if i get up again in less than ten minutes, it’s gonna be a rough day (but yesterday started this way and i ended it with a beer in my hand anyway). i’m here because when officer spirito dragged my racing body through the hallways handcuffed, because of the purses missing from the locker room, i still spent the night on the closet floor rocking back and forth, knees to pounding chest, a hollow voice on the phone saying i’ll be fine (but i know that ***** cut with ether and i’m gonna need a hospital). i told my sponsor i wanna get clean cause dope is taking my friends one by one like bowling pins, and i’m lonely cause all my ex boyfriends are still locked up upstate. she just told me to pray to god (but everybody knows that prayer only works in emergencies). i’m here because that relapse my first year of college got me pretty close to death. i didn’t know i could puke that far and the emts didn’t know a heart could beat that fast. but **** the past and **** the future. i can’t say much about the rest of my life, but i can make sure i’m sober the rest of this night. you can get through centuries one hour at a time, so since i know what you want it for why would i give you that quarter? no response except a drop of spit hung from his silver beard like a pendulum, and the smell of the chicken i left to cook too long inside that soup kitchen. if i didn’t laugh, i would have cried the whole time that he said to me i need this listerine, baby, i need listerine i need this listerine for my bad breath.
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There's no reasonable explanation As to how this all went down When the world woke up one morning All made up as clowns Not a single person across the land Did this phenomenon not claim With big red buttons on their chests  Spelling out new funny names There was Patches and Petunia Floppy and Cupcake Winky and Bumper the Clown Were just a few that they displayed Everyone went about their business  Only now they all carpooled You could see clowns piling out of cars everywhere From businesses to stores to schools Crime it did die down Because all the guns that people have Instead of shooting bullets Shoot out brightly colored Big Bang Flags Of course the circus lost its glamour With an audience made up of clowns It's hard to tell who's there enjoying  And who's entertaining all the crowds People stopped taking each other seriously  Over anything they had to say Pointing at each other and laughing As they go about their day Who knew a thing like this would happen When the world went to bed last night That the very next morning They'd wake up clowns for life Oh, I almost forgot the Politicians Were the only ones to stay the same It's already a simple known fact When you're already a clown you don't need to change
0
Jul 16, 2018
Jul 16, 2018 at 5:27 PM UTC
A World of Clowns (rerun for fun)
Hallelujah from the heart of Leonard Cohen just took Leonard and his old scratchy voice into my heart. What a gift my music app just slung into my afternoon to wake me from my late afternoon fatigue. I do not take these tech gifts for granted remembering when I would have to get the LP album from off the crammed shelf and play it on a turntable. Here in a moment of peace I look up and see the trees and the neighbor’s garden beyond my windows. And I thank God for this lovely peaceful moment thank my old piano teacher and the conductor of the Houston Youth Symphony where I sang before my voice changed and my parents who carpooled me from our suburb to the old auditorium downtown where my young mind and soul were nourished by adults who cared for our young minds and voices. Who knew that the gifts of these people would spring up in my mind eight decades later and mental images of Leopold Stokowski who directed us at a grand concert in the Houston Music Hall. He loved children but delivered high pitched hell to the symphony players at rehearsals.
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Sep 12, 2024
Sep 12, 2024 at 6:58 PM UTC
Heart Moments on Wings of Memory